CHAPTER I

THE SOCIAL ORGANISATION

In the present chapter we are to deal with the customs and institutions by which the natives of the Great Andaman regulate the conduct of persons one to another. At the outset it is necessary to get as clear an idea as possible of the structure of the Andamanese society. That structure, as will be shown, is extremely simple.

What is really of interest to the ethnologist is the social organisation of these tribes as it existed before the European occupation of the islands. The changes that have taken place in recent years have been extensive, the most important being the great diminution in numbers and the merging together of what were formerly distinct and often hostile communities. It is fairly easy, however, to discover from the natives themselves what was the constitution of the society in former times, though there remain a few points about which no satisfactory information can be obtained.

When the islands were first occupied by the British, before depopulation had affected their institutions, the natives of the Great Andaman were to be found living in small communities scattered over the islands, mostly on the coast, but some of them in the forest of the interior of the island. Each such community, which will be spoken of as a “local group,” was independent and autonomous, leading its own life and regulating its own affairs. Each group had occasional relations with other neighbouring groups; visitors might pass from one to another; or the two groups might meet together for a few days and join in feasting and dancing. On the other hand there were often quarrels between neighbouring groups, which might result in a state of feud between them for many months. Between communities separated from one another by a distance of only 50 miles or even less there were no direct relations whatever. The members of one community kept to their own part of the country, only leaving it to visit their friends within a narrow radius.

These local groups were united into what are here called tribes. A tribe consisted of a number of local groups all speaking what the natives themselves regard as one language, each tribe having its own language and its name. The tribe was of very little importance in regulating the social life, and was merely a loose aggregate of independent local groups.

The local groups are further distinguished by the natives themselves as being of two kinds according as they lived on the coast or inland. This division was independent of that into tribes. Some tribes consisted of coast-dwellers only, while others included both coast-dwellers and forest-dwellers.

Within the local group the only division was that into families. A family consists of a man and his wife and their unmarried children own or adopted.

These were the only social divisions existing among the Andamanese, who were without any of those divisions known as “clans” which are characteristic of many primitive societies.

The natives of the Great Andaman (leaving aside the J̌a̤rawa, who by language and culture belong to the Little Andaman division of the race) are divided into ten tribes, each occupying a certain area of country. Each tribe consists of a number of persons who speak what is regarded by the natives themselves as one language. That the tribe is fundamentally a linguistic group is shown by the tribal names. These are all formed from a stem with the prefix aka-, which prefix is used in the languages of the Great Andaman to convey a reference to the mouth and thereby to the function of speech. Thus in the Aka-J̌eru language the stem poŋ means “a hole of any kind,” and aka-poŋ means “the mouth,” there being no other word for that part of the body. In the same language the stem -ar- meaning “to talk” can only be used with the prefix aka-, as ak’-ar-ka, “he says.” The prefix which is characteristic of the tribal names, indicates, therefore, that these are really the names of languages.

The meanings or derivations of some of the tribal names have not been ascertained with certainty. The name Aka-Čari is derived from the word čari meaning “salt water,” and therefore means “the salt-water language.” Similarly the name Aka-J̌eru is derived from ǰeru, a species of Sterculia from which canoes are made. In the Northern languages the word ot-bo means “the back” of anything, and oŋ-ko̱ra means “the hand.” It is possible that the names Aka-Bo and Aka-Ko̱ra are derived from these stems (the ot- and the oŋ- being prefixes), but there is no evidence that they are associated with them in the minds of the natives of the present day. Among the Southern tribes the name Akar-Bale is derived from a word meaning “the other side” of a creek or strait, thus referring to their position in the Archipelago. The name A-Pučik-war (of which the Aka-Bea equivalent is Aka-Boǰig-yab) means “those who speak our own language,” from a stem pučik (Aka-Bea, boǰig) which means “belonging to ourselves” as opposed to strangers of the same race. Mr Portman [16] gives the following meanings of the other tribal names of the South and Middle Andaman, but the derivations are somewhat doubtful.

Aka-Bea Fresh water. O̱ko̱-J̌uwo̱i They cut patterns on their bows. Aka-Ko̱l Bitter or salt taste.

I may take this opportunity of pointing out two errors in the names of the tribes given in the “Census Report” of 1901. The name Aka-Čari is given as Aka-Chariar; the stem -ar- means “to talk” and is not an essential part of the tribal name; Aka-Čari-ar-bom means “he talks the Čari language.” The name Aka-Bo is given as Aka-Tabo; t’a-Bo means “I (am) Aka-Bo,” just as t’a-J̌eru means “I (am) Aka-J̌eru,” the prefix aka- being contracted to a- after the personal pronoun t’ = I or my.

Although the natives themselves thus recognize and give names to ten distinct languages, all of them are closely related. There is, on the whole, not a great deal of difference between two neighbouring languages. A man of the Aka-J̌eru tribe could understand without any great difficulty a man speaking Aka-Bo. On the other hand many of the languages included two or even more distinct dialects. In the Akar-Bale tribe there were two dialects, one in the southern half of the Archipelago, which was allied to Aka-Bea, and the other in the northern half, showing affinities with A-Pučikwar. Even in such a small tribe as the Aka-Čari it would seem that there were differences of dialect. Thus, even from the point of view of language, the tribe was not entirely homogeneous.

Leaving aside the Aka-Bea, the average extent of territory occupied by a tribe was about 165 square miles. Of the nine tribes the largest, as regards area, was the Aka-Kede, with over 300 square miles, while the smallest was probably the Aka-Čari, with less than 100 square miles. Save in the case of the Akar-Bale tribe, which occupied the islands of Ritchie’s Archipelago, it is difficult to find any marked geographical features that might be supposed to have determined the extent and the boundaries of the different tribes.

The Aka-Bea tribe was in an abnormal position as there was no recognized boundary between them and the J̌a̤rawa. Together, these two divisions of the Andamanese occupied an area of about 600 square miles. The Aka-Bea seem to have kept more to the coast while the J̌a̤rawa occupied the interior of the South Andaman and Rutland Island.

If the estimate previously given [17] of the former population of the islands be correct, the nine tribes (leaving aside the Aka-Bea) would have formerly contained about 3750 persons of all ages. At the present time the four tribes of the North Andaman number altogether about 400, of whom about 100 or less are children. The other six tribes taken together (including the almost extinct Aka-Bea) number about 200, of whom not more than 30 are children. Mr Man estimated the numbers of the Aka-Bea tribe (called by him Boǰig-ŋiǰi-da) in 1882 at about 400, and supposes them to have numbered about 1000 in 1858. In 1901 that tribe consisted of only 37 persons.

Besides the division into tribes, and independent of it, the Andamanese recognize another division into coast-dwellers and forest-dwellers. In the Aka-Bea language the coast-dwellers are called Ar-yoto, while the forest-dwellers are called Erem-taga. The difference between them is due solely to the difference of their food supply. The Ar-yoto obtain much of their food from the sea. They are expert in fishing and turtle hunting. They make canoes and use them not only for hunting but also for travelling from one camp to another. Some portion of their food they also obtain from the forest, edible roots and fruits and the flesh of the wild pig being the chief. On the other hand the Erem-taga rely solely on the forest and the inland creeks for their food supply. Their only use for canoes is in the creeks. They are entirely ignorant of such matters as turtle or dugong hunting, but they are more at home than the coast-dwellers in the forest, and are generally more skilful at pig-hunting. The advantage certainly rests with the coast-dwellers, for they have both the sea and the forest to draw upon for their sustenance.

Some tribes consist only of coast-dwellers, such as the Aka-Čari, the Akar-Bale and perhaps the Aka-Ko̱l. On the other hand the Aka-Bo, although their territory includes a part of the west coast, are, by their occupations and mode of life, forest-dwellers, and the same seems to have been the case of the O̱ko̱-J̌uwo̱i. The A-Pučikwar, the Aka-Kede, the Aka-J̌eru and perhaps also the Aka-Ko̱ra tribes contained both coast-dwellers and forest-dwellers.

Each tribe formerly consisted of a number of independent local groups. The local group, and not the tribe, was the land-owning group, each one owning or exercising hunting rights over a certain recognized area. At the present time, owing to the breakdown of the local organisation, through the settlement of the islands and the resulting decrease of population, it is difficult to ascertain what area of country was occupied by each of these local groups. In many cases it would seem that the boundaries between two neighbouring groups are not very clearly defined, there being portions of forest over which the members of both hunted when the groups were at peace [18]. There is no doubt that in the more favourable localities, particularly on the coast, the country occupied by a single group was smaller than in places of less abundant food supply. It is probable that the forest-dwelling local groups occupied considerably larger areas in each case than the coast groups. Some of the coast-dwelling groups seem to have occupied areas of less than ten square miles.

It is not easy to discover at this time exactly what number of persons would have been included in one local group. Mouat, who visited the islands in 1857–8, says of the natives, “They are rarely or never seen living alone, several of their little huts being raised in the same locality, where they dwell together in numbers varying between thirty and three hundred [19].” In another passage he states, “They are generally divided into small groups, the numbers of which vary considerably, some not containing more than ten individuals, while in others as many as two or three hundred may be found. The great majority of these groups of the natives consist on an average of from thirty to fifty men, women, and children, although sometimes as many as three hundred are found together [20].” It is probable that, if so small a party as ten were seen, they were a hunting party spending a day or a few days away from the main camp. On the other hand so large a number as three hundred could only be found together on the occasion of one of the periodical meetings of several local groups for purposes of festivity. Mouat’s statement that the groups consisted on the average of from thirty to fifty persons, agrees very well with the statements of the natives themselves, and may be taken as being fairly accurate. Mr Man, writing in 1882, speaks of the Andamanese as divided into communities “each consisting of from twenty to fifty individuals,” and elsewhere says that “permanent encampments vary in size and consist of several huts, which in all are rarely inhabited by more than from fifty to eighty persons [21].”

From the information that I was able to obtain from the natives themselves I came to the conclusion that an average local group consisted of from 40 to 50 persons of all ages, the average number of local groups to a tribe being about 10. This would give the average extent of country occupied by each local group as about 16 square miles, but some groups certainly had a larger territory than this and some had smaller.

Mr M. V. Portman speaks of the tribes of the southern part of the Great Andaman as being divided into what he calls “septs,” but he does not explain what he means by that term. He states that the Aka-Bea were divided into seven septs, the A-Pučikwar into four, the Akar-Bale into two, while the Aka-Ko̱l and O̱ko̱-J̌uwo̱i had no real subdivisions [22]. Whatever Mr Portman may have meant by the term sept, it is clear that he did not use it to denote what is here called a local group, but some larger subdivision of the tribe. What these septs seem to have been are groups consisting each of four or five local groups having friendly relations with one another and meeting together occasionally at the festival gatherings to be described later in the present chapter.

There were, strictly speaking, no distinctive names for the local groups. A local group might be denoted by a reference to the district that it occupied or to one of its chief camping places. Thus, in the Akar-Bale tribe, those occupying the island of Teb-ǰuru were spoken of as Teb-ǰuru-wa, the word wa meaning “people,” and the inhabitants of the east coast of Havelock Island were similarly denoted as Puluga-l’ar-mugu-wa from the name of the district that they occupied. In the tribes of the North Andaman the word equivalent to wa of the South is koloko. Some of the local groups of the Aka-Bo tribe were distinguished as Teraut buliu koloko, Kelera buliu koloko, Teradikili buliu koloko etc., from the names of the creeks (buliu) that they occupied. In the Aka-Čari tribe the local group occupying the island of To̱nmuket and the adjoining mainland were called Taroto̱lo koloko. When a man was asked to what part of the country he belonged he would generally answer by mentioning one of the chief camping places of his local group. Thus a man of the Taroto̱lo koloko might say that he belonged to Laropuli, this being one of the chief camps of that country. A man of the Teraut buliu koloko might similarly say that he belonged to the village of Čaičue.

A man or woman is generally regarded as belonging to the local group in the country of which he or she was born. There is nothing, however, to prevent a person from taking up his residence with any other local group if he so wishes, and if the members of that group are willing to welcome him. It would seem that there were a fair number of such cases in which a man or a woman left his or her own local group to join another. In particular, when two young people belonging to different groups got married they might fix their residence either with his or with her parents.

The local group, as stated above, was characterised as the land-owning group. A man might hunt over the country of his own group at all times, but he might not hunt over the country of another group without the permission of the members of that group. Even at the present day, when the local organisation has largely broken down, some of these hunting rights are still observed. I noticed a case in which some of the men asked and obtained permission to hunt pig in a certain part from a man who was explained to be the owner of that part of the country, being one of the few survivors of the local group to which it belonged. It would, in former times, have been an offence that might easily have led to a serious quarrel for the men of one group to hunt or fish in the country or the waters of another group without having been granted permission to do so.

Within the territory of each local group there are a number of recognized camping places. During the greater part of every year the members of the local group would be found living together at one or other of these. Some of these camping-grounds have been in use for many centuries, as is shown by the heaps of refuse many feet deep, chiefly consisting of the shells of molluscs and the bones of animals. Such kitchen-middens, as they have been called, are to be found in numbers all around the coasts of the islands.

In the case of the coast-dwelling communities the camping sites are always close to the sea-shore or to a creek, so that they can be reached by canoe. In the case of those dwelling inland this is of course not so. In any case one of the chief factors determining the choice of the site is the existence of a supply of fresh water. This is of extreme importance in the case of a site to be occupied during the dry season when fresh water becomes scarce.

Within their own territory the local group is what we may speak of as semi-nomadic. The coast-dwellers rarely reside continuously at the same spot for more than a few months, but shift from one camp to another, moved by different causes. If a death occurs the camp is deserted for several months and a new one is occupied. A change of camp often takes place at a change of season, some spots presenting particular advantages, such as shelter from the prevailing wind, or better hunting or fishing, at certain times of the year. Another cause of the abandonment of a camp by the coast-dwellers is that all refuse is thrown away close to the camp, and after a few months the decaying animal matter thus accumulated renders the spot uninhabitable. The natives seem to find it easier to move their camp than to clear away their refuse. The truth is, perhaps, that they are so accustomed to change their camp from one spot to another, in order to make the best use of the natural resources available, that there is no necessity for them to take those sanitary measures that would be essential if they wished to remain for many months continuously at the same place.

The forest-dwellers are less nomadic in their habits than the coast-dwellers. One of the reasons for this is that as they cannot convey their belongings from one place to another by canoe, but must carry them overland, the moving of a camp is a more tiresome business with them than it is with the coast-dwellers. During a great part of the year the forest-dwellers were accustomed to remain at one camp, which was thus the chief camp of the group. In particular they would spend there the whole of the rainy season. During the cool and hot seasons they would leave the chief camp for a few months, leading during that time a more nomadic life, living in temporary hunting camps and paying visits to their friends in other groups. At the opening of the rainy season they would return once more to the main camp.

The camps of the natives of the Great Andaman may be distinguished as being of three kinds. Of the first kind are what may be spoken of as permanent encampments. Certainly every group of the forest-dwellers, and probably every group of the coast-dwellers had its permanent encampment, which was, so to speak, the headquarters of the group. At this spot there would be erected either a communal hut, or a carefully built village. Communal huts have in recent times fallen into disuse, as the natives now wander about the islands much more freely than was their wont. I did not see a single one in the Great Andaman during my visit, though I was told of one that was falling to ruins in the interior of the Middle Andaman. One such communal hut was photographed in 1895 by M. L. Lapicque, at a spot called Lekera-l’un-ta [23]. It was perhaps the last that the natives of the Great Andaman erected. What the communal hut was like it is possible to discover both from the statements of the natives and also from the fact that they are still to the present day used by the natives of the Little Andaman and by the J̌a̤rawa. The hut was roughly circular in form and might be as big as 60 feet in diameter and 20 or 30 feet high at the centre. The shape was somewhat that of a beehive. Two concentric circles, one of tall posts near the centre and the other of shorter posts near the circumference, were connected by horizontal and sloping roof-timbers, and on these were laid and fastened a number of mats of palm-leaves. These mats reached, as a rule, as far as the ground, a small doorway being left on one side.

Such communal huts, while still used in the Little Andaman and by the J̌a̤rawa, and formerly used by the forest-dwellers of the Great Andaman, were apparently not often erected by the coast-dwellers of the larger island at the time the islands were occupied in 1858. Mr Man seems to have regarded them as being peculiarly characteristic of the J̌a̤rawa and the natives of the Little Andaman [24]. There is evidence, however, that even the coast-dwellers formerly erected such huts, for in the Akar-Bale tribe there are several places with names such as Paruŋ Bud and Golugma Bud, which show that communal huts existed there at some time. The word bud is used to denote a communal hut, as compared with a village, which is called baraiǰ.

A large communal hut took some little time to erect. The posts had to be cut and erected, this being the work of the men, and the palm-leaves had to be collected and then made into mats by the women. Once the hut was built it would last for several years, and if it were in fairly constant use, particularly if it were not abandoned in the rains, it might be used, with a little occasional patching, for ten years or even more.

Among the coast-dwellers it was more usual to erect at the headquarters a semi-permanent village. A portion of such a village is shown in the photographs reproduced in Plates VI and VII.

The village occupied a small clearing in the forest close to the sea-shore at a place called Mo̱i-lepto in the country of the Akar-Bale tribe. A spring or soak close to the village provided the fresh water. The site is a favourite one as it is well sheltered, and is within convenient distance of good fishing and turtle hunting grounds. It was formerly one of the chief camping places of the local group known as the Boroin wa (Hill people).

The village was composed of eight huts, ranged round a central open space, and all of them facing inwards towards the centre. This open space is kept clear and clean for dancing, and is simply the village dancing ground. Each of the single huts was occupied by a family group, consisting of a man and his wife with their children and dependants. One hut was occupied by an old widower and a bachelor.

The way the huts are built can be seen in the photographs. In the simplest form the hut consists of a sloping roof made of palm-leaves, erected on four posts, two taller ones at the front and two short ones at the back. A hut of this kind is shown in Plate VII. If more shelter is required a second roof is added in such a way that the top of one overhangs the top of the other. In some cases a third roof may be added on one side. In Plates VI and VII two mats of palm-leaf are shown in the course of construction, lying on the ground.

Huts such as these, in which the leaves are first made into a mat which is then attached to the rafters, will last for some time. Even if the village be deserted for several weeks, at any rate in the dry weather, very little work will be needed to make it habitable again when the occupants return to it.

A second kind of camp was made when the natives did not intend to stay more than two to three months. Such camps were erected by the forest folk during the dry season, or at any time when they were compelled to leave their chief camp through the death there of one of their number. Such a temporary camp is always put up in the form of a village, and never as a communal hut. The huts are similar to those already described, but are made more carelessly. The thatching leaves, instead of being made into mats, are simply tied in bundles on to the rafters. A hut of this kind will last quite well for three months or so and it can be built very rapidly at any place where there is a sufficient supply of thatching leaves. At the present day the natives rarely build a permanent camp for themselves, but are contented with temporary camps of the kind here described.

A third kind of camp remains to be briefly mentioned, which we may call the hunting camp. A hunting party (which may include women as well as men) spending a few days away from one of the main camps will erect for themselves a few huts or shelters consisting of nothing more than a simple lean-to of leaves.

Caves or rock shelters suitable for human occupation are almost unknown in the Andamans. In the Archipelago there are one or two small rock shelters that are occasionally used by a hunting party away from home for a night. I was told by the natives that on one of the islands off the west coast of the North Andaman there is a rock shelter of a fair size that was formerly used as one of their chief camps.

The following figure will give an idea of the Andamanese village and its arrangement. In hunting camps which are intended only to be occupied for a few days or a few weeks, this arrangement is not observed, but the huts or shelters are placed so as to give shelter from the prevailing wind with no particular regard to the respective position of the different units.

The constitution of the local group is illustrated by the arrangement of the village. The whole village consists of a number of separate huts, each hut occupied by a family. A family consists of a man and his wife and such of their children own or adopted as are not of an age to be independent. Besides the families each group necessarily contains a small number of unmarried men and widowers and some unmarried girls and widows. The unmarried men and widowers without children occupy a separate hut (or huts) which we may speak of as the bachelors’ hut. Mr Man states that the spinsters (i.e., the unmarried women who are of marriageable age) and widows occupy a hut of their own similarly to the bachelors [25]. In the camps that I visited I did not find any such spinsters’ hut. What unmarried females there were, I found attached to one or other of the families of the village, each one living in the hut of some married relative, generally the parent or foster-parent.

All the huts face inwards towards an open space which is the dancing ground of the village, and, except in exposed situations, are generally entirely open in front. At some convenient spot on one side of the dancing ground is to be found the communal cooking place of the village. This is generally close to the bachelors’ hut, as it is the bachelors who attend to such cooking as is carried on there. Besides the public cooking place each family has its own fireplace in its own hut, on which a fire is kept continually alight. In the village two or more families may build their huts adjoining one another in such a way that they become for all practical purposes one hut, of which each family retains its own special portion. Two brothers will thus often make a sort of common household.

The communal hut, in the way in which it is arranged, and even in the way in which it is built, is really a village with all the huts drawn together so that each one is joined to the one next to it and the roofs meet in the middle. In the centre of the hut there is an open space corresponding to the dancing ground of the village. It is even used as a dancing ground, though for this purpose it is somewhat small. It is the public part of the hut. Around this are arranged the different families, each occupying its own special portion of the hut, which is marked off by means of short lengths of wood laid on the floor. The public cooking place is sometimes inside the hut, and there is the space marked off for the unmarried men. The advantage of the communal hut is that it affords a better protection from the weather; its disadvantage is that it leaves almost no room for dancing.

Thus it may be seen that the arrangement of the camp shows very plainly the constitution of a local group, consisting as it does of a few families. Each group seems to have contained, on an average, about ten families, with a few unmarried males and females.

The Andaman Islanders depend for their subsistence entirely on the natural products of the sea and the forest. From the sea they obtain dugong, turtle (both green and hawksbill), an enormous variety of different sorts of fish, crustaceans (crabs, crayfish and prawns) and molluscs. Fish and crabs are also to be found in the salt-water creeks which in many places penetrate inland for some miles. From the forest they obtain the flesh of the wild pig, wild honey, and a large number of vegetable foods—roots, fruits, and seeds.

The life of the forest folk is more simple and uniform than that of the coast people and we may therefore consider it first. During the rainy season, which lasts from the middle of May to the end of September, the local group lives at its headquarters camp, which, as we have seen, formerly often took the form of a communal hut. During this season animal food is plentiful, as the jungle animals are in good condition; on the other hand there is not much vegetable food to be obtained. The following brief account will give an idea of how the day is spent in such a camp at that time of year. Some time after sunrise the camp begins to be astir. The various members of the community make a meal of any food that may have been saved from the day before. The men start off for the day’s hunting. At the present time dogs are used for pig-hunting. These dogs were obtained in the first instance from the Settlement of Port Blair, and their use in pig-hunting was learnt from the Burmese convicts. Nowadays every married man has at least one dog [26]. Before the dogs were obtained, hunting was a pursuit requiring a great deal more skill than it does at present. A hunting party consists of from two to five men. Each man carries his bow and two or three pig arrows, and one of the party carries a smouldering fire-brand. They make their way through the jungle until they find the fresh tracks of a pig, or follow up some of the usual pig runs until they come upon the animal feeding. In former days much skill was required to creep noiselessly through the jungle until they were sufficiently near either to discharge an arrow, or, if the jungle were more open, to rush in upon the animal shouting and shoot it before it could escape. At the present day it is the dogs that scent out the pig and bring it to bay, when the natives shoot it with their arrows.

When a pig has been killed it may be tied up and carried to the camp on the shoulders of one of the hunters, or a fire may be lighted then and there and the pig eviscerated and roasted. A cut is made in the abdomen and the viscera removed. The cavity is filled with leaves, the joints of the legs are half severed and the carcase is placed on the fire and turned over and shifted until every part is evenly roasted. It is then removed from the fire, the burnt skin is scraped clean and the meat is cut up. Meanwhile the intestines or some of the internal organs are cooked and eaten by the hunters. The meat is tied up in leaves and is carried to the camp. If the pig be carried home whole the process of roasting it and cutting it up is performed in exactly the same way at the public cooking place of the camp, the meat being distributed only after it has been thus partially cooked.

If the hunting party should come across a civet cat (Paradoxurus) or a monitor lizard they would endeavour to kill it [27], but the main object of every hunting party is to obtain pork. Snakes and even rats are killed and eaten. Birds, though plentiful in the islands, are not often obtained, for the density of the jungle and the height of the trees in which the birds conceal themselves, make it very difficult for the natives to shoot them with their bows and arrows. A man does not care to risk the loss of his arrow in a chance shot at a bird. The Andamanese do not trap either birds or animals, though some of the birds, particularly the rail, might be very easily caught in traps.

As the hunting party traverses the forest they may come across roots or fruits or seeds, or wild honey, and these are collected and carried home. In the rainy season only small combs of black honey are to be found [28], and these are generally consumed by the hunters on the spot.

The provision of the vegetable food of the community is the work of the women, who must also supply the camp with firewood and water. While the men are away hunting the women, attended by the children, cut and carry the firewood, and either remain in the camp making baskets or nets or other objects, or else go into the forest to look for fruits and seeds. Thus by midday the camp may be quite deserted, save perhaps for one or two old men and women, and a few of the children.

In the afternoon the women return with what food they have obtained and then the men come in with their provision. The camp, unless the hunters have been unsuccessful, is then busy with the preparation of the evening meal, which is the chief meal of the day. If a pig has been brought home whole it is cooked at the public cooking place and is then cut up. The meat is distributed amongst the members of the community and the woman of each family then proceeds to cook the family meal. The pork, after it has been roasted and cut up, is further cooked by being boiled. The family meal is prepared at the fire that each family has in its hut. The meal is a family one, partaken by a man and his wife and children. The bachelors cook and eat their own meal, and the unmarried women also eat by themselves.

After the meal is over, darkness having by this time fallen, the men may spend an hour or two in dancing to the accompaniment of a song sung by one of them with the help of a chorus of women. In that case they would probably eat another meal after the dance was over. Another favourite amusement for the evening is what may be called “yarning.” A man sits down with a few listeners and tells them, with few words, and with many dramatic gestures, how he killed a pig. The same man may go on with tale after tale, till, by the time he finishes he has killed twenty or thirty pigs. Finally the whole camp retires to rest and nothing is to be seen but the dim light of the little fires burning in each hut or in each of the family quarters.

On a day when there is plenty of food left from the day before, or on a day of stormy weather even when food is not too plentiful, the men may remain in camp instead of going hunting. They busy themselves with making weapons and implements, such as bows, arrows, adzes, etc.

On occasions when game is not very plentiful a party of hunters may stay away from the camp for a few days, not returning till they have been successful in obtaining a fair supply of food. The women and children and old men, with perhaps a few of the able bodied men also, remain at home and provide for themselves as well as they can, the women devoting their time to collecting what vegetable foods are in season.

At the end of the rainy season there comes a brief period of unsettled weather, called by the natives of the North Andaman Kimil, and by those of the South, Gumul. During this season some of the vegetable foods begin to be available, though not in any quantities. At this time of the year the natives are able to obtain and feast upon what they regard as great delicacies, the larvae of the cicada and of the great capricornis beetle. The cool season, when fruits and roots are plentiful, begins at the end of November. The forest dwellers leave their main encampment during this season. Some of them go off to pay visits to their friends of other local groups. Such visits may last two or three months. Those who remain occupy temporary camps in convenient places. The men join the women in looking for roots and fruits, and do not spend so much of their time in hunting. Some of the men visit the main camp at intervals of a few days to see that it is all right. As the cool season gives way to the hot season (March to May) honey begins to be plentiful. At that time hunting for pig is almost abandoned. The pigs are in poor condition, and even when one is killed it is often left in the jungle by the natives as not being good enough to eat. On the other hand everyone is busy collecting honey. This is work in which both men and women join, though it is the men who climb up the trees and cut down the honeycomb. The natives have no means of keeping the honey for more than a very short time, as it rapidly ferments. While it is plentiful they almost live on it, supplementing it with roots and fruits and with fish, if they are near a creek. Towards the end of the hot season the fruit of the Artocarpus chaplasha, which is a favourite food of the natives, becomes ripe. The men and women, at this time, spend much of their time collecting the fruit. When it is collected the fruit is broken open and each of the seeds is sucked to obtain the juicy pulp or aril with which it is surrounded, and which has a very pleasant taste. The seeds are then partly boiled and are buried in the ground to remain there for a few weeks, when they will be dug up again and cooked and eaten. Any natives who may have been away from home on a visit, return before the Artocarpus comes into fruit in order to take their share in collecting it and providing a supply of the seeds for consumption in the rainy season. The natives then return to the headquarters camp and make any necessary repairs to the hut in preparation for the rainy season, which begins about the middle of May.

The coast-dwellers are not quite so much influenced by the seasons as the forest-dwellers. They can fish and collect molluscs all the year round. In the rainy season they divide their time between hunting pig in the forest and fishing or turtle hunting. They do not need, however, to remain at the same camp during the whole of the rainy season, but after a month or two at one place can move to what they hope to find better hunting grounds. During the cool and hot seasons they pay visits to one another. In the fine weather the men often go off on turtle-hunting expeditions for several days, leaving the women and children and older men in the village, where they provide for themselves with vegetable food and with fish and molluscs from the reefs.

It is during the fine weather that there take place the meetings of two or more local groups that are an important feature of the social life of the Andaman Islanders. These meetings will be described later in the present chapter.

Besides their food, which they must find from day to day, the natives have need of nothing save their weapons and implements. Of these each person makes his own, each man making his own bow, arrows, adze, etc., while the wife makes her baskets, nets and so on.

The economic life of the local group, though in effect it approaches to a sort of communism, is yet based on the notion of private property. Land is the only thing that is owned in common. The hunting grounds of a local group belong to the whole group, and all the members have an equal right to hunt over any part of it. There exists, however, a certain private ownership of trees. A man of one of the local groups of the coast may notice in the jungle a tree suitable for a canoe. He will tell the others that he has noticed such a tree, describing it and its whereabouts. Thenceforward that tree is regarded as his property, and even if some years should elapse, and he has made no use of it, yet another man would not cut it down without first asking the owner to give him the tree. In a similar way certain men claim to possess certain Artocarpus trees, though how the ownership in these cases had arisen I was unable to determine. No one would pick the fruit off such a tree without the permission of the owner, and having received permission and gathered the fruit he would give some part of it to the owner of the tree.

A pig belongs to the man whose arrow first strikes it, though if the arrow merely glanced off and did not remain in the wound it would not give any claim to ownership. A turtle or a dugong or big fish belongs to the man who throws the harpoon with which it is taken. A honeycomb belongs to the man who climbs the tree and cuts it down. The fish that a man shoots belong to him, and to a woman belong the roots she digs up, the seeds that she collects, the fish or prawns that she takes in her net or the molluscs that she brings from the reefs. Any weapon that a man makes belongs to him alone to do what he pleases with, and anything that a woman makes is her own property. A man is not free to dispose of the personal property of his wife without her permission.

In the village each family erects and keeps in repair its own hut, and the wife provides the hut with the firewood and water needed. In the case of a communal hut it would seem that this is really an example of a possession common to the whole group. This is so, however, only in appearance. The hut is built by all the different families, but each family is regarded as owning a certain portion of the hut when it is finished, and it is the family that keeps this part of the hut in repair.

A canoe is cut by a number of men together. From the outset, however, it is the property of one man, who selects the tree and superintends the operation of cutting it into shape. He is always one of the older men, and he enlists the services of the younger men to help him. When finished the canoe is his property, and he can do with it what he pleases, giving it away, if he wishes, and no one has any share of ownership in a canoe on the ground that he helped to make it.

While all portable property is thus owned by individuals, the Andamanese have customs which result in an approach to communism. One of these is the custom of constantly exchanging presents with one another. When two friends meet who have not seen each other for some time, one of the first things they do is to exchange presents with one another. Even in the ordinary everyday life of the village there is a constant giving and receiving of presents. A younger man or woman may give some article to an older one without expecting or receiving any return, but between equals a person who gives a present always expects that he will receive something of equal value in exchange. At the meetings that take place between neighbouring local groups the exchange of presents is of great importance. Each of the visitors brings with him a number of articles that he distributes amongst the members of the group that he visits. When the visitors depart they are loaded with presents received from their hosts. It requires a good deal of tact on the part of everyone concerned to avoid the unpleasantness that may arise if a man thinks that he has not received things as valuable as he has given, or if he fancies that he has not received quite the same amount of attention as has been accorded to others.

It is considered a breach of good manners ever to refuse the request of another. Thus if a man be asked by another to give him anything that he may possess, he will immediately do so. If the two men are equals a return of about the same value will have to be made. As between an older married man and a bachelor or a young married man, however, the younger would not make any request of such a nature, and if the older man asked the younger for anything the latter would give it without always expecting a return.

Almost every object that the Andamanese possess is thus constantly changing hands. Even canoes may be given away, but it is more usual for these to be lent by the owner to his friends.

It has been stated above that all food is private property and belongs to the man or woman who has obtained it. Every one who has food is expected, however, to give to those who have none. An older married man will reserve for himself sufficient for his family, and will then give the rest to his friends. A younger man is expected to give away the best of what he gets to the older men. This is particularly the case with the bachelors. Should a young unmarried man kill a pig he must be content to see it distributed by one of the older men, all the best parts going to the seniors, while he and his companions must be satisfied with the inferior parts. The result of these customs is that practically all the food obtained is evenly distributed through the whole camp, the only inequality being that the younger men do not fare so well as their elders. Generosity is esteemed by the Andaman Islanders one of the highest of virtues and is unremittingly practised by the majority of them.

Within the local group there is no such thing as a division of labour save as between the two sexes. In the coastal groups every man is expected to be able to hunt pig, to harpoon turtle and to catch fish, and also to cut a canoe, to make bows and arrows and all the other objects that are made by men. It happens that some men are more skilful in certain pursuits than in others. A skilful turtle-hunter, for example, may be an indifferent pig-hunter, and such a man will naturally prefer to devote himself to the pursuit in which he appears to most advantage.

The division of labour between the sexes is fairly clearly marked. A man hunts and fishes, using the bow and arrow and the harpoon; he makes his own bows and arrows, his adze and knife, cuts canoes and makes rope for harpoon lines. A woman collects fruits and digs up roots with her digging stick; she catches prawns and crabs and small fish with her small fishing net; she provides the firewood and the water of the family and does the cooking (i.e. the family cooking, but not the common cooking, which is entirely done by men); she makes all such objects as baskets, nets of thread, and personal ornaments either for herself or her husband.

There is no organised government in an Andamanese village. The affairs of the community are regulated entirely by the older men and women. The younger members of the community are brought up to pay respect to their elders and to submit to them in many ways. It has already been shown how, in the distribution of food, the elders get the best share. When it is a question of shifting camp to some better hunting ground the opinion of the older men would weigh against that of the younger if they disagreed. It must not be thought, however, that the older men are tyrannical or selfish. I only once heard a young man complain of the older men getting so much the best of everything. The respect for seniority is kept alive partly by tradition and partly by the fact that the older men have had a greater experience than the younger. It could probably not be maintained if it regularly gave rise to any tyrannical treatment of the younger by the elder.

The respect for seniors is shown in the existence of special terms of address which men and women use when speaking to their elders. In the languages of the North Andaman there are two such terms, Mai or Maia, applied to men, with a meaning equivalent to “Sir,” and Mimi, applied to women. These words may be used either alone or prefixed to the personal name of the person addressed. A younger man speaking to an older one whose name was Bora would address him either as Mai (Sir), or as Maia Bora (Sir Bora).

In the tribes of the South Andaman there are exactly similar terms. In the Aka-Bea tribe Maia or Maiola is used in addressing men and Čana or Čanola in speaking to women. In Akar-Bale the equivalent terms are Da and In. Besides these terms there is in these tribes another, Mam, Mama or Mamola, which may be used in speaking to either men or women, and which implies a higher degree of respect than Maia or Čana. In these tribes also there is a special way of showing respect by adding the suffix -la to the name of the person addressed, as Bia, Biala, Woičo, Woičo-la, etc.

In the legends of the Andamanese these titles are nearly always prefixed to the names of the legendary ancestors, as Maia J̌utpu and Mimi Biliku in Aka-J̌eru, or Da Duku and In Bain in Akar-Bale. The moon is similarly spoken of as Sir Moon (Maia Ogar in Aka-Bea) and the sun as Lady Sun (Čana Bodo).

Besides the respect for seniority there is another important factor in the regulation of the social life, namely the respect for certain personal qualities. These qualities are skill in hunting and in warfare, generosity and kindness, and freedom from bad temper. A man possessing them inevitably acquires a position of influence in the community. His opinion on any subject carries more weight than that of another even older man. The younger men attach themselves to him, are anxious to please him by giving him any presents that they can, or by helping him in such work as cutting a canoe, and to join him in hunting parties or turtle expeditions. In each local group there was usually to be found one man who thus by his influence could control and direct others. Amongst the chief men of several friendly local groups it would generally happen that one of them, by reason of his personal qualities, would attain to a position of higher rank than the others. Younger men would be desirous of joining the local group to which he belonged. He would find himself popular and respected at the annual meetings of the different groups, and his influence would thus spread beyond the narrow limits of his own small community.

There was no special word to denote such men and distinguish them from others. In the languages of the North Andaman they were spoken of as er-kuro = “big.”

Such men might perhaps be spoken of as “chiefs,” but the term is somewhat misleading, as it makes us think of the organised chieftainship of other savage races.

The above statement is not quite in agreement with what has been written by Mr Man on the same subject, and what he says is therefore reproduced here. “Their domestic policy may be described as a communism modified by the authority, more or less nominal, of the chief. The head chief of a tribe is called maia igla, and the elders, or sub-chiefs, i.e. those in authority over each community, consisting of from 20 to 50 individuals, maiola. The head chief, who usually resides at a permanent encampment, has authority over all the sub-chiefs, but his power, like theirs, is very limited. It is exercised mainly in organising meetings between the various communities belonging to his tribe, and in exerting influence in all questions affecting the welfare of his followers. It is the chief alone, as may be supposed, who directs the movements of a party while on hunting and fishing expeditions, or when migrating. It is usually through his intervention that disputes are settled, but he possesses no power to punish or enforce obedience to his wishes, it being left to all alike to take the law into their own hands when aggrieved. The aryoto and eremtaga in each tribe have their own head chief, who are independent the one of the other. As might be assumed from the results of observations made of other savage races, whose sole or chief occupation consists in hunting or fishing, the power of the chiefs is very limited, and not necessarily hereditary, though, in the event of a grown-up son being left who was qualified for the post, he would, in most instances, be selected to succeed his father in preference to any other individual of equal efficiency. At the death of a chief there is no difficulty in appointing a successor, there being always at least one who is considered his deputy or right-hand man. As they are usually, on these occasions, unanimous in their choice, no formal election takes place; however, should any be found to dissent, the question is decided by the wishes of the majority, it being always open to malcontents to transfer their allegiance to another chief, since there is no such thing as forced submission to the authority of one who is not a general favourite. Social status being dependent not merely on the accident of relationship, but on skill in hunting, fishing, etc., and on a reputation for generosity and hospitality, the chiefs and elders are almost invariably superior in every respect to the rest. They and their wives are at liberty to enjoy immunity from the drudgery incidental to their mode of life, all such acts being voluntarily performed for them by the young unmarried persons living under their headship [29].”

Where Mr Man speaks of the “authority” of the chiefs it would be better to speak of “influence.” Of authority the leading men have little or none, but of influence they have a good deal. Should any one venture to oppose a popular chief he would find the majority of the natives, including many of his friends, siding against him. The words “chief” and “authority” seem to imply some sort of organised rule and procedure, and of this there is nothing in the Andamans. Mr Man also implies that in each tribe there is always one recognized headman, but in reality each tribe may possess two or three leading men in different parts of the country, each with his own following. In any case a man’s influence is largely confined to his own local group, for it is only at the annual meetings that the men of other groups come in contact with him.

The early officers of the Andamanese Homes (before the time of Mr Man) established a system of chieftainship in the islands by selecting a few of the more trustworthy and intelligent men, whom they dignified with the title of raja, and who acted as the intermediaries between the Officer in Charge of the Andamanese and the natives. This system has been continued to the present day, and the natives have adopted the title raja for these men, having themselves no word for a chief. Where a man is selected who is already respected and esteemed by the natives his influence is considerably increased through the position thus assigned to him. The natives themselves do not recognize that he has any authority over them, but if he be a man of generosity and tact, the majority will always support him, and his advice in any matters of moment will be readily followed.

Women may occupy a position of influence similar to that of the men. The wife of a leading man generally exercises the same sort of influence over the women as her husband does over the men. A woman, however, would not exercise any influence over the men in matters connected with hunting. They do have a good deal of influence in connection with quarrels either of individuals or of local groups.

There are certain men, and possibly sometimes women, who have an influence over their fellows owing to their being credited with the possession of supernatural powers. These men, called in Aka-J̌eru oko-ǰumu (literally “one who speaks from dreams”), will be described in a later chapter. As they are believed to have command over the powers that produce and cure sickness everyone tries to be on good terms with them, avoiding giving them offence in any way, and seeking their favour by presents of food or other things. It sometimes happens that a chief (the leading man of a local group) is at the same time a medicine-man or oko-ǰumu, but the two positions are entirely distinct and separate, and a man may be a medicine-man who possesses none of the qualities that are necessary for a head man.

There does not appear to have been in the Andamans any such thing as the punishment of crime. We may distinguish two kinds of anti-social actions which are regarded by the natives as being wrong. The first kind are those actions which injure in some way a private individual. The second are those, which, while they do not injure any particular person, are yet regarded with disapproval by the society in general.

Amongst the anti-social actions of the first kind are murder, or wounding, theft and adultery, and wilful damage of the property of another.

No case of one Andamanese killing another has occurred in recent years. Quarrels sometimes occur between two men of the same camp. A good deal of hard swearing goes on, and sometimes one of the men will work himself up to a high pitch of anger, in which he may seize his bow and discharge an arrow near to the one who has offended him, or may vent his ill-temper by destroying any property that he can lay his hands on, including not only that of his enemy but also that of other persons and even his own. At such a display of anger the women and children flee into the jungle in terror, and if the angry man be at all a formidable person the men occasionally do the same. It apparently requires more courage than the natives usually possess to endeavour to allay such a storm of anger. Yet I found that the slightest show of authority would immediately bring such a scene to an end. A man of influence in his village was probably generally equal to the task of keeping order and preventing any serious damage from taking place. It was probably rare for a man so far to give way to his anger as to kill his opponent.

Such murders did, however, occasionally take place [30]. The murderer would, as a rule, leave the camp and hide himself in the jungle, where he might be joined by such of his friends as were ready to take his part. It was left to the relatives and friends of the dead man to exact vengeance if they wished and if they could. If the murderer was a man who was much feared it is probable that he would escape. In any case the anger of the Andamanese is short-lived, and if for a few months he could keep out of the way of those who might seek revenge, it is probable that at the end of that time he would find their anger cooled.

A man who is liable to outbursts of violent anger is feared by his fellows, and unless he has other counterbalancing qualities, he is never likely to become popular. He is treated with outward respect, for every one is afraid of offending him, but he never acquires the esteem of others. There is a special nickname, Tarenǰek, in the North Andaman, to denote such a man [31].

Quarrels were more likely to occur at the meetings of different local groups that took place in the fine weather, and such quarrels might occasionally end in the murder of some one. In such a case the quarrel would be taken up by the group of the murdered man, and a feud would be set up between them and the local group to which the murderer belonged. Such was one of the common causes of origin of the petty warfare that formerly existed in the Andamans, which will be referred to later in the present chapter.

Cases of theft seem to have been rare. It was left to the aggrieved person to take vengeance upon the thief, but if he killed him or seriously wounded him he would have to expect the possible vengeance of the relatives and friends. Adultery was regarded as a form of theft. I gathered that a man had the right to punish his wife for unfaithfulness, but if the punishment were too severe it would be an occasion for a quarrel with her relatives. It was difficult for the aggrieved husband to punish the man who had offended against him. If he killed him he would lay himself open to the revenge of the relatives. The most he could do was to vent his anger in violent words.

Women also occasionally quarrel with one another and swear forcibly at one another, or even get so far as to destroy one another’s belongings, or to fight with their fists or sticks. The men hesitate to interfere, and the quarrel can only be stopped by some woman of influence.

The frequent occurrence of serious quarrels is prevented both by the influence of the older men and by the fear that everyone has of the possible vengeance of others should he in any way offend them.

There are a number of actions which, while they do not offend any particular person, are regarded as being anti-social. One of these is laziness. Every man is expected to take his proper share in providing both himself and others with food. Should a man shirk this obligation, nothing would be said to him, unless he were a young unmarried man, and he would still be given food by others, but he would find himself occupying a position of inferiority in the camp, and would entirely lose the esteem of his fellows. Other qualities or actions that result in a similar loss of esteem are marital unfaithfulness, lack of respect to others and particularly to elders, meanness or niggardliness, and bad temper. One man was mentioned to me as being a bad man because he refused to take a wife after he had reached the age when it is considered proper for a man to marry. In recent times at least one young man has refused to undergo the privations connected with the initiation ceremonies. This was of course a case of gross rebellion against the customs of the tribe, but there was no way of punishing him or of compelling him to conform, save by showing him that he was an object of contempt and ridicule to others. Probably such a refusal to conform to tribal customs could not have taken place before the British occupation of the islands.

Another class of wrong actions consists in the breaking of ritual prohibitions. There are, for example, as will be shown in a later chapter, a number of actions which it is believed may cause bad weather, such as burning bees’-wax or killing a cicada. There is, however, no punishment that can be meted out to any one who does any of these things. The punishment, if we may call it so, is a purely supernatural one, and it strikes not only the offender but every one else as well. In the legends of the Andamanese there are one or two stories related of how one of the ancestors, being angry, deliberately performed one of the forbidden actions and thus brought a storm that destroyed many human beings [32]. There are other ritual prohibitions the non-observance of which is supposed to bring its own punishment on the offender, who, it is believed, will be ill.

The medicine-men (oko-ǰumu) are credited with the power to work evil magic, and by its means to make other people ill, and even to kill them. A man suspected of evil magic might be liable to the vengeance of those who thought that they had been injured by him, but though the practice was regarded as reprehensible it does not seem that the society ever acted as a whole to punish a man suspected of it.

Children are reproved for improper behaviour, but they are never punished. During their years of infancy they are much spoilt, not only by their parents but by every one. During the period of adolescence every boy and girl has to undergo a somewhat severe discipline, to be described in a later chapter. This probation, if it may be so called, is enforced by a unanimous public opinion. The discipline lasts until the man or woman is married and a parent, or if childless as so many now are, until he or she has settled down to a position of responsibility.

Thus, though the Andaman Islanders had a well developed social conscience, that is, a system of moral notions as to what is right and wrong, there was no such thing as the punishment of a crime by the society. If one person injured another it was left to the injured one to seek vengeance if he wished and if he dared. There were probably always some who would side with the criminal, their attachment to him overcoming their disapproval of his actions. The only painful result of anti-social actions was the loss of the esteem of others. This in itself was a punishment that the Andamanese, with their great personal vanity, would feel keenly, and it was in most instances sufficient to prevent such actions. For the rest, good order depended largely on the influence of the more prominent men and women.

We have so far considered only the general regulation of conduct in the local group, without giving any attention to the more special regulations dependent on relationships by blood and by marriage. In all human societies there is a system of rights and duties regulating the conduct towards one another of persons who are related either by consanguinity or through marriage. In primitive societies these particular rights and duties occupy a position of preponderating importance, owing, no doubt, to the small number of persons with whom any single person comes into effective social contact. When a large proportion of the men and women with whom any person comes in contact are related to him, it is clear that relationship must count for a good deal in regulating the everyday life of the people.

Different societies have different systems of relationship. This means, not only that they attach different duties to particular relations, but also that they have different ways of reckoning the relationships themselves. The vast majority of primitive peoples have some one or other form of what is known to ethnologists as the “classificatory system of relationship [33].” This system is intimately connected with the existence of the social divisions known as “clans.” In the Andamans there are no clans, and the system of relationship is fundamentally different from all the classificatory systems.

To understand the Andamanese system it is necessary to examine the terms by which they denote the different kinds of relationship which are recognized [34]. In many societies having the classificatory system of relationship the terms which are used to denote relationship are also used as terms of address, just as we use the terms “Father” and “Mother.” In the Andamans this is not so. There are special words that are used as terms of address, but these do not imply any relationship between the speaker and the person spoken to. In the North Andaman those terms are Maia (= Sir) and Mimi (= Lady). These are used by younger men and women in speaking to older persons. For the rest, persons are addressed freely by their personal names. There are no terms of address that imply any relationship of consanguinity between the person speaking and the person whom he addresses. This is an important feature of the Andamanese system, distinguishing it from the systems of many other primitive societies.

The following is a list of terms used to denote relationship in the North Andaman. There seems to be very little difference in this matter between the four tribes of the North (Aka-Čari, Aka-Ko̱ra, Aka-Bo and Aka-J̌eru).

aka-mai his father aka-mimi his mother ot-tire his child ot-otoatue his older brother ot-otoatue-čip his older sister ot-arai-čulute his younger brother ot-arai-čulute-čip his younger sister ot-e-bui or e-bui his wife (her husband) e-pota-čiu his father-in-law e-pota-čip his mother-in-law ot-otone his son-in-law.

Aka-mai and aka-mimi. The words for “father” and “mother” are derived from the terms of address Maia and Mimi by the addition in each case of the prefix aka-. By itself the term Maia is used by any man or woman in speaking to a man older than himself or herself without implying any relation between them beyond that of respective age. The addition of the prefix aka- changes the word, giving it the meaning “the father of somebody.” Thus Maia Bora means “Mr Bora” or “Sir Bora,” if we may so translate it, but Bora aka-mai means “Bora’s father,” and aka-mai Bora means “his or her father Bora.” The Aka-J̌eru equivalent for “my father” is t’a-mai, the t’ being the personal pronoun “my,” after which the prefix aka- is contracted to a-. Similarly “thy father” is ŋ’a-mai and “their father” or “their fathers” is n’a-mai. The word aka-mimi is in every respect exactly parallel to aka-mai. These two terms are only used when it is necessary to refer to the actual father or mother of anybody. For example, if a man be asked Ačiu ŋ’a-mai bi? (Who your father is?), he will reply by giving the name of his own father.

The stem maia clearly relates to the social position of the father of a family. A man who is a father, or while not having any children, is married and occupies an equivalent social position to a father, is addressed by the term which shows his social position, Maia. When I call a man Maia, I do not imply that he is my father nor that he is related to me at all, but only that he is a father. On the other hand, the prefix aka- added to the stem makes a possessive form, so that aka-mai means “his father” and t’a-mai means “my father.” The word mimi is exactly parallel. By itself, the stem simply shows that the person addressed is a mother, while aka-mimi means “his mother.”

Ot-tire. The word “child,” when there is no reference to the child of some particular person, is translated e-tire, -tire being the stem and e- the prefix [35]. With a change of prefix from e- to ot-, a possessive form is made, so that ot-tire always means “his or her child,” with reference to some particular person understood. Thus Bora ot-tire would mean “the child of Bora,” while Bora e-tire or e-tire Bora would mean “the child Bora.” The phrase t’ot-tire (my child) is used by either a man or a woman to denote his or her child.

Ot-otoatue and ot-arai-čulute. I was unable to find in the languages of the North Andaman any words which could properly be translated “brother” or “sister.” The two words here given are used by the Andamanese to denote persons older or younger than the speaker, whether they be brothers and sisters or not. The derivation of ot-otoatue could not be ascertained, but the word means “he who was born before me,” and it is used in this sense to denote any person of the speaker’s generation who is older than himself. If it is necessary to emphasise the female sex of the person spoken of, the suffix -čip is added. An alternative word of exactly the same meaning is ot-areupu (fem. ot-arep-čip). The word ot-arai-čulute is formed from the stem čulu or čulutu meaning “following” or “after,” which always takes the prefix arai-. (This prefix conveys a reference to position in time or space.) The stem is found in such phrases as tio ŋ’arai-čulutu-bom, “I will follow you” (literally tio = I, ŋ’ = thou, čulutu = after, and -bom, verbal suffix), and tarai-čulik “afterwards” (t-arai-čulu-ik). The prefix ot- added in front of the usual prefix arai- determines the particular use of the word as referring to human beings. Thus the word ot-arai-čulute means, literally, “he or she who was born after me.” It is used in this sense by a man or woman to denote any person of the same generation who is younger than himself. The suffix -čip may be added to denote a female. Alternative words of the same meaning are ot-ara-liču and ot-ara-bela.

These words are not, properly speaking, terms of relationship, but serve only to denote the respective ages of two persons. I did not discover any terms whatever by which a man can distinguish his own brother or sister from any other man or woman of the same age.

Ot-e-bui. The stem -bui means “to marry,” as in n’ e-bui-om = they are married. “My husband” or “my wife” is simply t’e-bui or t’ot-e-bui.

E-pota-čiu and e-pota-čip. The derivation of these words was not discovered. They are the terms by which a man distinguishes his wife’s father and mother, and a woman her husband’s father and mother.

Ot-otone. The word and its meaning are somewhat doubtful. It was sometimes used by a man to denote his daughter’s husband, and perhaps also his son’s wife. I once heard it applied to a younger sister’s husband. It may be compared with the same word as used in the South Andaman to be mentioned presently.

So far as could be discovered, there are no words in the languages of the North Andaman for grandfather, grandmother, uncle, aunt, cousin, etc. The terms given above can be combined to describe relatives of this kind, as

T’a-mimi aka-mai my mother’s father Ot-e-bui ot-arai-čulute his wife’s younger brother Ŋ’ot-a-mai ot-arai-čulute thy father’s younger brother T’ot-otoatue ot-tire my older brother’s child.

These compound terms are not often used, however.

The terms of relationship of the Akar-Bale tribe may be taken as representative of the tribes of the South Andaman. The following list contains all the more important of them.

da father ab-atr father in mother ar-bua child ar-kodire child (father speaking) ab-atet child (mother speaking) mama grandparent ǰat grandchild en-toaka-ŋa older brother or sister ar-dotot younger brother or sister otoni son-in-law oten daughter-in-law ab-i-ŋa consort (husband or wife) aka-yat parent of child’s consort aka-bua consort’s younger brother or sister ep-taruo-ŋa step relative ot-čat-ŋa relative by adoption aka-kuam younger relative ab-čuga older relative (male) ab-čupal older relative (female).

Da and in. Da is the common term of address used when speaking to an older man to whom the speaker wishes to show respect. A man will speak of his own father as dege da, dege being the personal pronoun “my” as used before a word that has no prefix. The term In is the common term of address used in speaking to women. A man or woman will refer to his or her own mother as deg’ in. The use of these two terms as applied to parents is very similar to the use of aka-mai and aka-mimi in the North Andaman, with the difference that in Akar-Bale the stem da or in does not take a prefix to modify its meaning. While the use of the terms Da and In as terms of address does not in the least imply that there is any relationship between the person speaking and the person addressed, yet the phrase dege da would in general be understood as referring to the speaker’s own father.

Ab-atr. This is a word descriptive of the relationship of a father to his child. I never heard a man refer to his own father by this term, but it is heard in such phrases as deg’ in l’ab-atr = my mother’s father. It conveys a definite notion of the physiological relation between a father and his children, and might be translated “he who caused me to be conceived.” There is probably a feminine equivalent meaning “mother,” but it was not noted.

Ar-bua, ar-kodire and ab-atet. The Akar-Bale word for “infant” is ab-liga or ab-dareka. The latter word is the phonetic equivalent of the e-tire of the Northern languages. A parent often speaks of his or her infant son as d’ab-bula, and of his infant daughter as d’ab-pal, ab-bula and ab-pal being the terms for “male” and “female [36].” The exact use of the term ar-bua is difficult to determine. The stem -bua may be used by itself without a prefix. Dege bua (my child) would refer, I believe, only to the child of the speaker. On the other hand, a man would use the term d’ar-bua as referring not only to his own child but also to the child of a brother or a sister, or even to a person who was not related to him at all. So far as it could be determined, it seems that a man or woman might apply this term (ar-bua) to any person of the same generation as his or her children, whether a relative or not. It thus means “a person of the same generation as my own children,” and describes, not relationship, but respective age. The word ar-kodire refers to the own child of a man, and ab-atet similarly refers to the own child of a woman. The two words together are thus equivalent to the ot-tire of the North Andaman, the Akar-Bale distinguishing between the offspring of a man (ar-kodire) and the offspring of a woman (ab-atet).

Mama. The word is translated above as meaning “grandparent,” but it has a wider meaning than this. It is used as a term of address to convey more respect than is conveyed by the terms Da and In, and is thus used in addressing any man or woman who is considerably older than the speaker. With the personal pronoun, dege mama, it may be applied by a man or woman to any of his grandparents, and also to his father-in-law and mother-in-law, and to other senior relatives.

J̌at. The word was explained to me by the natives as meaning “grandchild.” It seems to be a sort of reciprocal of mama, and is apparently applicable by any old man or woman to any child of the same generation as his or her own grandchildren.

En-toaka-ŋa and ar-dotot. These two words are used in exactly the same way as the words ot-otoatue and ot-arai-čulute of the North Andaman. They are not properly terms of relationship, but may be equally used in referring to non-relatives. En-toaka-ŋa means “he who was born before me,” and ar-dotot means “he who was born after me.” I was not able to discover any word by which a person could distinguish his own brother or sister from others of the same age. It is not certain, however, that such a word does not exist.

Otoni and oten. These are masculine and feminine forms of the same word, and are used to denote a daughter’s husband and a son’s wife. Otoni is also applied to a younger sister’s husband, and oten to a younger brother’s wife. The derivation of the words was not discovered.

Aka-yat. This is the native name for the relationship subsisting between a person’s parents and his parents-in-law. My own mother or father is aka-yat to my wife’s father or mother.

Aka-bua. The word is derived from the stem bua, meaning “child.” It is applied by a man to the younger brothers and sisters of his wife, and by a woman to the younger brothers and sisters of her husband.

Ab-i-ŋa. The word is translated “consort,” and means either husband or wife. It is derived from the verbal stem -i- meaning “to marry” (on-i-re), ab- being the prefix, and -ŋa the verbal suffix.

Ep-taruo-ŋa. The word is used to denote a step-child, or a younger step-brother or sister.

Ot-čat-ŋa. The word means “adopted.” “My adopted child” is simply expressed as d’ot-čat-ŋa, while “my foster father” is dege da ot-čat-ŋa. The stem is -čat-, -ŋa being the verbal suffix and ot- the prefix.

Aka-kuam. In spite of several enquiries, I was unable to ascertain the significance of this word. I heard it applied on different occasions to a younger brother or sister, to a younger first cousin, and to the brothers and sisters of a wife. The only suitable translation would seem to be “my younger relative,” but it is not certain that it even implies any relationship at all. It is perhaps really a term denoting respective social status and is used by a married man to denote other married men who are somewhat younger than himself, and with whom he is on friendly terms.

Ab-čuga and ab-čupal. These are the masculine and feminine forms of one word. Mr Portman [37] gives them as meaning “married man” and “married woman.” I heard them used, however, with the personal pronoun. Thus a man applied the term ab-čuga to his older brother, his older sister’s husband, and to his father’s brother. In this usage these two terms seem to be in a sense reciprocal to aka-kuam. A younger married man will refer to older married men and women as his ab-čuga and ab-čupal, while they will call him aka-kuam.

In his work on the Andamanese, Mr E. H. Man gives a long list of terms of relationship for the Aka-Bea tribe [38]. It will be of some interest to compare the terms there given with those of the Akar-Bale tribe described above.

D’ab-maiola (D’ab-mai-ola). This is translated by Mr Man as “father.” In Aka-Bea the term Maia is the term of address corresponding to the Da of Akar-Bale and to the Mai of the North Andaman. The suffix -ola, added to this and other terms of address serves to convey additional respect, as Maia, Mai-ola, Čana, Čan-ola, Mama, Mam-ola. Thus ab-mai-ola corresponds to the aka-mai of the Northern languages.

Dia Maia. This is given by Mr Man as applicable to the following relatives:—my father’s brother, my mother’s brother, my father’s sister’s husband, my mother’s sister’s husband, my father’s father’s brother’s (or sister’s) son, my husband’s grandfather, my wife’s grandfather, my wife’s sister’s husband (if elder), my husband’s sister’s husband (if elder).

Dia maiola. My grandfather, my grandfather’s brother, my grandmother’s brother, my elder sister’s husband.

It must be remembered that these terms are not properly terms of relationship at all. Any man who is older than the speaker is Maia or Mai-ola to him, the latter implying a slightly higher degree of respect than the former. It is probable that the three different terms given above are not used by the natives with the very precise distinctions that are drawn by Mr Man. It may be noted that Mr Portman writes in this connection:—”Maia is an Honorific, equivalent to the English ‘Sir,’ and is used when addressing a male elder. A son calls his father ‘Sir,’ and uses no other word in speaking to, or of, him. A pronoun Dia maiola [39].” emphasises the relationship, as: My Father

D’ ab-čanola. Given by Mr Man as meaning “my mother.” It is the feminine equivalent of d’ ab-mai-ola, Čana being the feminine of Maia, and corresponding to the In of Akar-Bale and the Mimi of Aka-J̌eru.

Dia čanola. This is given as the Aka-Bea translation of the following:—my father’s sister, my mother’s sister, my father’s brother’s wife, my mother’s brother’s wife, my grandmother, my great aunt, my father’s father’s sister’s daughter, my mother’s mother’s sister’s daughter, my husband’s grandmother, my wife’s grandmother, my husband’s sister (if senior and a mother), my elder brother’s wife (if a mother). In its formation the term is the feminine equivalent of dia mai-ola, while in its use it is the equivalent both of this term and of dia maia. This serves to show that there is no real precise distinction between dia maia and dia mai-ola, such as Mr Man’s list would seem to imply. Dia čan-ola is not, properly speaking, a term of relationship. Any married woman senior to the speaker is entitled to be addressed as Čana or Čan-ola.

D’ ab-čabil. Mr Man gives this as translating “my father, my step-father.” The feminine equivalent would seem to be d’ ab-čanola, which is given for “my mother” and “my step-mother.” Mr Portman gives ab-čabil and ab-čana as the Aka-Bea terms for “married man” and “married woman [40].” The two words are the equivalents of the Akar-Bale ab-čuga and ab-čupal.

D’ ar-odi-ŋa. This word is given by Mr Man as one of the equivalents for “my father.” It is parallel to the Akar-Bale term ab-atr, and is strictly a term of physiological relationship, meaning “he who caused me to be conceived.”

D’ab-eti-ŋa. This is translated by Mr Man as “my mother.” It is the corresponding term to d’ar-odi-ŋa, and refers to the physiological relationship.

D’ab-weǰi-ŋa or d’ab-weǰeri-ŋa. This also means “my mother,” and is only an alternative word for the above. The stems eti and weǰi or weǰeri seem to be two stems meaning the same thing.

D’ar-odi-re or d’ar-odi-yate. Given by Mr Man as meaning “my son” (if over three years of age, father speaking). It is the equivalent of the Akar-Bale ar-kodire.

D’ab-eti-re, d’ab-eti-yate, d’ab-weǰi-re, d’ab-weǰi-yate, d’ab-weǰeri-re, d’ab-weǰeri-yate. These are all given by Mr Man as translating “my son” (if over three years of age, mother speaking). They are equivalent to the Akar-Bale ab-atet.

The above words seem to be derived from three stems, -odi-, -eti-, and -weǰi- (or -weǰeri-), the stems -eti- and -weǰi- having exactly the same meaning, and belonging, perhaps, to different dialects. The words are formed by the addition of the prefixes ar- and ab-, and the verbal suffixes -ŋa, -re, -yate. Thus we have ar-odi-ŋa, “father,” and ar-odi-re or ar-odi-yate, “son.” Similarly we have ab-eti-ŋa, “mother,” and ab-eti-re or ab-eti-yate, “son” (mother speaking), while similar equivalents are made from the stem -weǰi-. The words given as meaning “son” may also be used to mean “daughter,” but when it is necessary to emphasise the female sex, the suffix -pail (meaning “female”) is added, as d’ar-odi-re-pail, d’ab-eti-re-pail.

Dia ota and dia kata. These are given by Mr Man as meaning respectively “my son” and “my daughter” (if under three years of age, either parent speaking). Ota and kata are the terms for the male and female genitals.

Dia ba. This is given by Mr Man as meaning “my daughter” (if over three years of age, either parent speaking). It is the phonetic equivalent of dege bua in Akar-Bale.

Dia ba-lola. Given as the equivalent of:—my grandson (either grandparent speaking), my brother’s grandson (male or female speaking), my sister’s grandson (male or female speaking). The same phrase with the addition of -pail, meaning “female,” is given as equivalent to:—my granddaughter, my brother’s granddaughter, and my sister’s granddaughter (male or female speaking).

D’ar-ba. According to Mr Man this term is applicable by a male or female to the son of a brother, a sister, a half-brother, a half-sister, or of a male or female first cousin. With the addition of -pail, meaning “female,” it is applicable to the daughter of any of the above.

Ad en-toba-re, ad en-toba-ŋa, ad en-toka-re, ad en-toka-ŋa. These terms are given by Mr Man as alternative equivalents for “my elder brother (male or female speaking).” The stem is -toba- or -toka-, with the prefix en- and the verbal suffix -re or -ŋa. The ad is a special form of the first personal pronoun, generally d’. With the addition of -pail, meaning “female,” the term is applicable to an elder sister. The word corresponds, both phonetically and in meaning, to the Akar-Bale en-toaka-ŋa.

D’ar-doati-ŋa. Given as meaning “my younger brother (male or female speaking).” With the addition of -pail, it is applied to a younger sister. Mr Man gives the word as being also applicable to a first cousin, if younger than the speaker.

D’ar-weǰi-ŋa or d’ar-weǰeri-ŋa. These are given by Mr Man as alternative terms for “younger brother,” and, with the addition of -pail, for “younger sister.” It is to be noted that the stem -weǰi- or -weǰeri- is the same that occurs in one of the terms for “mother,” but that the prefix is different, being in this case ar- instead of ab-.

Dia mama. This is given as meaning “my wife’s brother, or my husband’s brother (if of equal standing).”

Dia mam-ola. Given as the equivalent of the following:—my husband’s father, my husband’s mother, my wife’s father, my wife’s mother, my husband’s elder brother, my wife’s brother (if older), my husband’s sister’s husband (if older), my wife’s sister (if older and a mother), my husband’s brother’s wife (if older), my wife’s brother’s wife (if older).

Mama and Mam-ola are terms of address in Aka-Bea. Mam-ola implies a somewhat greater degree of respect than Mama, and this in its turn is more respectful than Mai-ola or Maia.

D’aka-kam. Mr Man gives this as a term applicable to the following relatives:—my younger brother, my younger half-brother. With the addition of -pail, it is applicable to a younger sister or half-sister.

Dia otoniya and dia otin. The first of these terms is given as meaning:—my son-in-law (male or female speaking), and my younger sister’s husband (male or female speaking). The second term is feminine, and is given as applicable to the following:—daughter-in-law, husband’s sister (if younger), husband’s brother’s wife (if younger), wife’s brother’s wife (if younger). The terms are thus equivalent, phonetically and in meaning, to the Akar-Bale terms otoni and oten.

Aka-yakat. This is given as the relationship subsisting between a married couple’s fathers-in-law, and between their mothers-in-law. It is the equivalent of the Akar-Bale word aka-yat.

D’aka-ba-bula and d’aka-ba-pail. The meaning of the first of these is given as “my husband’s brother (if younger),” and of the second as “my younger brother’s wife.” The suffixes -bula and -pail mean “male” and “female” respectively. The term aka-ba is the phonetic equivalent of the Akar-Bale word aka-bua. The latter seems to be applied to the younger brothers and sisters of a man’s wife or of a woman’s husband, and to these alone. The use of these terms and of the terms otoni and oten, as recorded from the Akar-Bale tribe, may be compared with the usage stated by Mr Man, as there is some disagreement. In the following table the Aka-Bea terms are given as they are found in Mr Man’s list, while those of the Akar-Bale tribe are given from my own information.

Aka-Bea Akar-Bale

Husband’s younger brother aka-ba-bula aka-bua Husband’s younger sister otin aka-bua Wife’s younger brother aka-bua Wife’s younger sister aka-bua Younger brother’s wife aka-ba-pail oten Younger sister’s husband otoniya otoni.

It will be observed that the Akar-Bale list is consistent and logical throughout. It seems probable that there is an error in Mr Man’s list, and that “husband’s younger sister” should be aka-ba-pail instead of otin, while “younger brother’s wife” should be otin instead of aka-ba-pail. This would make the Aka-Bea list consistent with itself and with the Akar-Bale list.

Mr Man gives, in addition to the terms discussed above, a number of compound terms, which we may examine briefly.

D’ar-čabil-entoba-re. This is given as applicable to any first cousin or half-brother who is older than the speaker. The feminine form is given as d’ar-čanol-a-entoba-yate.

D’ar-čabil-entoba-re lai-ik-yate. This is applicable to the wife of any first cousin or half-brother, if older than the speaker. As lai-ik-yate means “his wife,” this is a descriptive term. There is a similar term dia čanol a-entoba-yate lai-ik-yate for the husband of an older female cousin or half-sister.

D’ar-ba lai-ik-yate. This means “the wife of my ar-ba,” and is therefore applicable to the wife of the son of a brother or sister or cousin, and to the husband of a daughter of a brother or sister or cousin.

There are a few other similar compounds that need not be given.

In Mr Man’s list a step-son is given as eb-aden-ire. The word for adoption is ot-čat-ŋa, d’ot-čat-ŋa meaning “my adopted child” and d’ab-mai-ot-čat-ŋa “my adopted father.”

The system of terms of relationship of the Andamanese is of great interest as being fundamentally different from the systems of other uncivilized peoples. It is by no means easy to discover the exact usage of the different terms that are mentioned above. It is, however, possible to gain a general idea, probably accurate in essentials, of the way in which the Andamanese languages express the notions of kinship.

We may consider first the terms of address and the terms of relationship formed from them. The terms of address are:—

Aka-Jeru Aka-Bea Akar-Bale

Maia or Mai Da Maia Sir Mimi In Cana Lady ...... Mama Mama or mamola.

The first of these is used in addressing males and the second in addressing females, while the third may be used either for males or for females and implies a higher degree of respect than the others.

In all the languages of the Great Andaman a man refers to his own father and mother by adding a personal pronoun to the words meaning “Sir” and “Lady.” In Aka-J̌eru a man speaks of his father as t’a-mai, and of his mother as t’a-mimi, the a- being a contracted form of the prefix aka-. This prefix is always used in this way in the Northern languages. It is not possible to say tičo maia, which would be the literal equivalent of dege da in Akar-Bale. In the Akar-Bale language the translation of “my father” and “my mother” is dege da and deg’ in, the dege being the personal pronoun “my” as used before a word that has no prefix. The same formation is present also in the A-Pučikwar and Aka-Ko̱l languages. For example in Aka-Ko̱l “my father” is tiye tao, and “my mother” tiye in. In the Aka-Bea language, according to the information given by Mr Man, the word maia (or maiola) may be used combined with a prefix, as in d’ab-maiola = “my father,” or it may be used simply with the personal pronoun as dia maia or dia maiola. According to Mr Man these last two terms are applied not to a man’s own father, but to the other persons whom he addresses as maia. This is contradicted by Mr Portman who gives dia maiola as the Aka-Bea for “my father.”

In the Aka-Bea and Akar-Bale languages (as also in A-Pučikwar and Aka-Ko̱l) a man always addresses his grandparent or his father-in-law or mother-in-law by the term Mama or Mamola. He is therefore able to refer to these persons by adding the personal pronoun to the term of address, as dege mama in Akar-Bale. This cannot, however, be regarded as properly a term denoting relationship, for a man may apply the term Mama to a man or woman to whom he is not related at all [41].

The next kind of words that we may consider are those that describe the respective social position of two persons. Such are the words ot-otoatue and ot-arai-čulute in Aka-J̌eru, meaning “he who was born before me” and “he who was born after me” respectively. These terms do not, strictly speaking, convey any idea of consanguinity, although they are commonly used to refer to a brother or a sister. Exactly equivalent terms are found in all the languages, for example the en-toaka-ŋa and ar-dot-ot of Akar-Bale. I was not able to discover in Aka-J̌eru nor yet in Akar-Bale any term to denote a brother or a sister. In Aka-Bea, however, Mr Man records the term ar-weǰi-ŋa or ar-weǰeri-ŋa. The stem -weǰi- or -weǰeri-, as we shall shortly see, is a verbal stem referring to the act of birth, -ŋa is a verbal suffix, and the prefix ar- conveys a reference to position in space or time. The whole word seems to mean “he or she who was born in the same womb as myself,” and is therefore strictly a word meaning “brother or sister.” It is possible that similar words exist in Akar-J̌eru and Akar-Bale, but I never came across them.

Other terms descriptive of social status are the Akar-Bale terms ab-čuga and ab-čupal which refer to married men and women particularly those older than the speaker. These also are not properly terms of relationship, though a man may refer to some of his relatives as d’ab-čuga, adding the personal pronoun to what is properly a word descriptive of the social position of the person in question. In Aka-Bea the equivalent terms are ab-čabil and ab-čana. It would seem that the term aka-kuam (aka-kam in Aka-Bea) is of the same kind, being applicable by an older married man to a younger. At any rate I was unable to discover that it conveyed to the natives any notion of relationship.

There are a certain number of terms that are descriptive of definite relationships. In the North ot-e-bui, and in Akar-Bale ab-i-ŋa are both of them derived from verbal stems meaning “to marry” and are used to denote a husband or a wife. In the North I did not discover any term descriptive of a father or a mother save those derived from the terms of address. In Akar-Bale and Aka-Bea there are such terms; ab-atr in Akar-Bale means “father” while the word for “mother” was not noted; in Aka-Bea a father is ar-odi-ŋa, and a mother is ab-eti-ŋa. These words are descriptive of the physiological relation between a parent and a child. A man’s adopted mother could not be his ab-eti-ŋa, for this term applies only to the woman from whose womb he issued. Similarly an adopted father or a step-father could not be ab-atr or ar-odi-ŋa. There are similar words for child, which also refer to the physiological relation of a child to its parent. In the North the stem -tire means “offspring.” The offspring of a plant, that is the young shoots, are denoted by the term era-tire, the prefix era- serving to convey a reference to trees and plants. The offspring of an animal or of a human being is e-tire. The word e-tire means “the child of somebody” without reference to any particular person as the parent. In the form ot-tire the word means “his or her child” with reference to some person understood. A man or woman cannot in strict accuracy apply the term ot-tire to his adopted child, though I believe that it might be used in this loose sense at times. An adopted child is “he whom I have adopted,” t’oi-čolo-kom. In Akar-Bale and Aka-Bea there are different terms for “child” according as the reference is to the child of a man or to that of a woman. Thus in Akar-Bale the child (in the physiological sense) of a father is ar-kodire, and the child of a mother is ab-atet. In Aka-Bea the physiological relation of a father and child is denoted by the verbal stem -odi-. This stem takes the prefix ar-. The word for father is formed by adding the verbal suffix -ŋa (ar-odi-ŋa). The word for child (father speaking) is formed by means of the verbal suffix -re or -yate (ar-odi-re or ar-odi-yate). We may translate d’ar-odi-ŋa as meaning “he who caused me to be conceived” while d’ar-odi-re or d’ar-odi-yate means “him whom I caused to be conceived.” In the same language the physiological relation of a mother and a child is denoted by the stem -eti-. This stem takes the prefix ab-. A mother is ab-eti-ŋa, and the child of a mother is ab-eti-re or ab-eti-yate, the verbal suffixes being used in a way similar to that in the case of the terms for father and child. In Aka-Bea there is also a stem -weǰi- or -weǰeri- which has exactly the same meaning as -eti- and can be substituted for it in the terms meaning mother and child, as ab-weǰi-ŋa = mother, ab-weǰi-re = child.

Other descriptive words used to denote specific relationships are e-pota-čiu and e-pota-čip and ot-otone in the Northern languages. The derivations of these words have not been ascertained. Similar terms in Akar-Bale are otoni and oten and aka-yat. In this language I did not discover any word descriptive of the relationship of father-in-law or mother-in-law. Finally there are such terms as ot-čat-ŋa (adopted) and ep-taruo-ŋa (step-relative).

The most noteworthy feature of these terms is that it is impossible by means of them to deal with relationships that are at all distant. Thus there is no term by which a man can describe his grandfather. In Akar-Bale the phrase dege mama might mean a grandfather, but it might equally refer to a father-in-law. It is true that the simple terms may be combined as Aka-J̌eru “aka-mimi aka-mai” = “his mother’s father,” or Akar-Bale “deg’ in l’ab-atr” = “my mother’s father,” but these compounded terms are apparently not often used by the natives. A second noteworthy feature is the existence of terms to denote physiological relationships (as opposed to merely juridical relationships) such as the Aka-Bea ar-odi-ŋa, etc. Finally there is the apparent entire absence, so far as could be determined, of any classification of relatives such as is characteristic of the classificatory systems of relationship. Where there does seem to be some sort of approach to such classification, as in the use of the Akar-Bale term dege mama, we find that it is really based not on relationships of consanguinity and marriage, but on respective social status [42].

As, in the languages of the Andamans, there are few words serving to denote relationship, and on the contrary a developed system of terms denoting social status, so in the social organisation of the Andamans there are very few special duties between relatives, and the conduct of persons to one another is chiefly determined by their respective social positions. This will become evident as we proceed, and it will thus be shown that there is a close connection between the way the natives denote relationships and the way in which their social life is affected by questions of relationship.

We have already seen that in the Andamanese social organisation the family is of great importance. A family is constituted by a permanent union between one man and one woman. In one of its aspects this union is a sexual one. By marriage a man acquires the sole right to sexual congress with the woman who becomes his wife. At the same time it is the duty of a married man to avoid sexual relations with other women whether married or unmarried. Promiscuous intercourse between the sexes is the rule before marriage, and no harm is thought of it. The love affairs of the boys and girls are carried on in secret, but the older members of the camp are generally fully aware of all that goes on. What generally happens is that after a time a youth forms an attachment with some girl and a marriage between them results from their love affair.

It is impossible, at the present time, to discover exactly how the Andamanese formerly regarded infidelity on the part of a wife or husband. In the Great Andaman there is great laxity in this matter at the present day. Quarrels sometimes arise when a husband discovers an intrigue between his wife and another man, but very often the husband seems to condone the adultery of his wife. Mr E. H. Man, writing on this subject, says that “conjugal fidelity till death is not the exception, but the rule,” and adds, “It is undoubtedly true that breaches of morality have occasionally taken place among a few of the married persons who have resided for any length of time at Port Blair, but this is only what might be expected from constant association with the Indian convict attendants at the various homes; justice, however, demands that in judging of their moral characteristics we should consider only those who have been uninfluenced by the vices or virtues of alien races [43].” At the present time conjugal infidelity is very common and is lightly regarded. It is almost certain that the establishment of the Penal Settlement amongst them has affected their morals in this particular, but there does not seem to be any very satisfactory evidence that their former morality was quite so strict as Mr Man would have us believe. One piece of evidence in this matter is that the spread of syphilis, when it was first introduced amongst them seems to have been very rapid, and yet this was before many of the tribes had been very seriously affected by the Settlement.

Besides the special sexual relation between a husband and wife there is a special economic relation, if we may speak of it as such. The two share one hut between them, or one portion of a communal hut. It is the duty of the wife to provide the fire-wood and the water for cooking and drinking, and to cook the meals at the family fire. It is the duty of the husband to provide flesh food for himself and for his wife, while it is her duty to provide and prepare vegetable food.

A marriage is not regarded as fully consummated until the birth of a child. Mr Man states that the survivor of a childless couple is not looked upon as the chief mourner. A father who has been away from home greets his wife first on his return and then greets his other relatives; but if no child has been born to him a husband first greets his blood-relatives (father, mother, brothers, etc.) and only after that does he visit his wife.

The only regulation of marriage is on the basis of relationship. Marriage is forbidden between near consanguinei. The exact rules, in this matter, if indeed there be any exact rules, are difficult to discover. It is quite clear that a man would not be permitted to marry his sister or half-sister, nor his father’s or mother’s sister, nor his brother’s or sister’s daughter. The question is more difficult when it comes to the matter of cousins. In 1908 I only found one pair of first cousins who were married to one another, this being in the Aka-Bo tribe. The husband and wife were the son and daughter of two brothers. Mr E. H. Man writes that “marriage is only permissible between those who are known to be not even distantly connected, except by wedlock, with each other; so inexorable indeed is this rule, that it extends and applies equally to such as are related merely by the custom of adoption.” He adds that marriage between first cousins is forbidden. I was not able to satisfy myself on this point, but it seemed to me that while such a marriage as that of first cousins was not actually regarded as wrong, and therefore forbidden, it was regarded as preferable that a man should marry a woman not so nearly related to him. No distinction is made between different kinds of cousin [44].

My observations did not confirm Mr Man’s statement that persons related by adoption are forbidden to marry. It is necessary, however, to distinguish two different kinds of adoption. When the parents of a child of less than six or seven years of age die, the child is adopted into some other family. We may call this “orphan adoption.” As will be explained later, there is another custom by which children of over seven or eight are adopted by a married couple belonging to a local group other than that of the parents, and live with them till they come of age. The parents of the child are still alive and they visit him or her at frequent intervals. No bar to marriage is set up by this kind of adoption. An adopted son may marry the daughter of his foster-parents. Indeed when children are betrothed it is the rule for the girl to be adopted by the boy’s parents, at any rate for a time. On the other hand it is quite possible that a child adopted when of tender years (as an orphan) would not be permitted to marry a child of his or her foster-parents. I was unable to satisfy myself on this point.

There seems to be a prejudice against a woman marrying a man younger than herself. Some of the women with whom I talked expressed strong contempt at the idea of marrying a man younger than themselves. Unfortunately, I neglected to obtain statistics as to the frequency with which such marriages occur, if they occur at all.

Beyond the prohibition of the marriage of near kin, I could not find any restriction on marriage. A man may marry a woman from his own local group or from another, from his own or from another tribe. That marriages between persons belonging to the same local group did occur in former times I was able to ascertain with certainty but I was not able to determine the proportion of such marriages to the whole number. It is probable that the majority of marriages, or at any rate a large proportion, were between persons belonging to different local groups.

Marriages are arranged by the older men and women. Children are sometimes betrothed by their parents while they are still infants. I found one such case in the North Andaman, and the betrothed couple, though they were yet small children, were spoken of as being “married.” Such betrothals are not very common at the present time.

When the parents of a youth who is of suitable age to be married perceive that he has formed an attachment with a girl, they take it upon them to arrange a marriage. The matter is first of all talked over between the young man and his parents. The man’s parents do not themselves speak to the girl’s parents of the matter, but request some one or more of their friends to do so. From the moment that the possibility of a marriage exists the man’s parents avoid speaking to the girl’s parents. Any communication between them is carried on through a third person. They send presents to each other, of food and other objects. The recipient of such a present hastens to make a return of equal value. If the marriage is arranged the parents on each side become related to one another by the relationship denoted in Akar-Bale by the word aka-yat. The duties implied by this relationship will be described later.

When a marriage has finally been arranged an evening is appointed for the ceremony. In the North Andaman this is as follows. The bride is seated on a mat at one end of the dancing ground, her relatives and friends sitting near her. Torches or heaps of resin are lighted near by, so that the ceremony may be seen by the on-lookers. The bridegroom is seated with his friends at the other end of the dancing ground. One of the older and more respected men addresses the bride, telling her that she must make a good wife, must provide for her husband such things as it is the duty of a wife to obtain or make, must see that he does not run after other women, and must herself remain faithful to him. He then addresses the bridegroom to the same effect, and taking him by the hand or arm, leads him to where the bride is seated and makes him sit down beside her. The relatives and friends weep loudly, and the young couple look very self-conscious and uncomfortable. The shyness of the young man is such that he often attempts to run away, but he is caught by his friends, who are prepared for such an attempt. After some minutes the officiating elder takes the arms of the bride and bridegroom and places them around each other’s necks. After a further interval he again approaches and makes the bridegroom sit on the bride’s lap [45]. They sit so for some minutes and the ceremony is over. The other members of the community generally have a dance on such an occasion, but in this the newly wedded pair do not join. A hut has already been prepared for them, and all their friends make them presents of useful objects with which to start housekeeping. They retire shyly to their new hut, while their friends continue dancing. The day after the ceremony the bride and bridegroom are decorated by their friends with white clay. For a few days the newly married couple are very shy of each other, hardly venturing to speak to or look at one another: but they soon settle down to their new position in the life of the community. During the early days of their marriage they are abundantly supplied with food by their friends. They are not addressed or spoken of by name, but if their names be A and B, the husband is called “the husband of B” while the wife is called “the wife of A.”

In the South Andaman the ceremony is much the same as in the North, the only difference being that the bridegroom is led to where the bride is sitting and is made to sit on her lap straightway, remaining there for a few minutes.

When a husband dies his widow may marry again if she wishes. As a rule I believe that it is not considered fitting that she should take another husband before the end of her mourning for her former one. Mr Man says “it is not considered decorous that any fresh alliance should be contracted until about a year had elapsed from the date of bereavement [46].” I knew of one case, however, of a woman with a young child who married again only a fortnight or so after her husband’s death.

Mr Man speaks of a custom “which all but compels a bachelor or widower to propose to the childless widow of his elder brother or cousin (if she be not past her prime), while she has no choice beyond remaining single or accepting him; should she have no younger brother-in-law (or cousin by marriage), however, she is free to wed whom she will. It should be added that marriage with a deceased wife’s younger sister is equally a matter of necessity on the part of a childless widower [47].”

I was not able to come across a case in which a man had actually married his elder brother’s widow in recent years. The natives whom I questioned confirmed Mr Man’s statement, which, moreover, was based on at least one instance known to him as having occurred. It may be noted that in his description of this instance Mr Man says that the woman married her husband’s “brother or cousin,” leaving us in doubt as to which of these two relatives it really was. There is an ambiguity in the use of the term “younger brother,” for the Andamanese have no word meaning simply “younger brother,” but only such terms as ot-arai-čulute and the equivalents in other languages, which apply to any younger person, whether actually a brother or cousin or not.

The recent changes in the social life of the Andamanese render it difficult to determine what was the former practice in matters of this sort, but I believe that the custom was this, that when a man of a local group died the older men selected one of the unmarried men and required him to marry the widow. They selected a man who was younger than the deceased, that is who was his ot-arai-čulute, and gave the preference to an unmarried younger brother if there were one, or to a relative of the deceased, such as a father’s brother’s son.

It may be noted that this custom may conflict with the other custom, previously mentioned, that a woman objects to marrying a man younger than herself. In the case mentioned by Mr Man a young man was compelled to marry a woman who was considerably his senior [48].

I believe that, in connection with, or underlying this custom there was an objection against a widow marrying a man who was older than her former husband (and who would therefore be his ot-otoatue). I regret that I cannot speak with certainty on these matters.

We may turn now to the duties to one another of parents and children. During their infancy the children are in the care of the mother. Children are, however, such favourites with the Andamanese that a child is played with and petted and nursed not only by his own father and mother but by everyone in the village. A woman with an unweaned child will often give suck to the children of other women. Babies are not weaned till they are three or four years old.

Before the children can walk, they are carried about by the mother, and sometimes by the father or other persons, in a bark sling (called čiba in Aka-J̌eru), which is shown in Plate XIV. After they can walk the children generally accompany their mothers in their expeditions near the camp for firewood or vegetables. When they are not with their mothers they amuse themselves with games in the village or on the beach. All the children of the coast villages learn to swim when they are very young, in fact almost as soon as they learn to walk, and many of their games are conducted in the water.

When a boy reaches the age of five or six his father makes him a toy bow and arrows, and sometimes a toy canoe. From this time the boy begins to learn the occupations of men and begins to pick up knowledge about the animals and trees and fishes of his country. The girl, accompanying her mother on her expeditions to gather roots and seeds, or to catch fish or pick up molluscs on the reefs, learns what it is necessary for women to know.

Until the age of about eight to ten a child lives with his parents, having a place in the family hut, and a share of the family meal. The children are treated with extreme kindness, and are never punished, and hardly ever scolded. Should the parents die the children are adopted by friends or relatives, and such adopted children are treated by the foster-parents in exactly the same way as their own children.

At the age of ten, or a little before, a change is often brought about in the life of a child, owing to the custom of adoption. Mr Man writes of this custom as follows:

“It is said to be of rare occurrence to find any child above six or seven years of age residing with its parents, and this because it is considered a compliment and also a mark of friendship for a married man, after paying a visit, to ask his hosts to allow him to adopt one of their children. The request is usually complied with, and thenceforth the child’s home is with his (or her) foster-father: though the parents in their turn adopt the children of other friends, they nevertheless pay continual visits to their own child, and occasionally ask permission (!) to take him (or her) away with them for a few days. A man is entirely at liberty to please himself in the number of children he adopts, but he must treat them with kindness and consideration, and in every respect as his own sons and daughters, and they, on their part, render him filial affection and obedience. It not unfrequently happens that in course of time permission to adopt a foster-child is sought by a friend of the soi-disant father, and is at once granted (unless any exceptional circumstance should render it personally inconvenient), without even the formality of a reference to the actual parents, who are merely informed of the change, in order that they may be enabled to pay their periodical visits [49].”

The above passage is quoted because Mr Man had better opportunities of observation in this matter than myself. At the present day there are not many children in the Andamans, and this is an obstacle in the way of this custom of adoption. From my own observation, however, I should put the age at which it is customary for children to be adopted at higher than six or seven. I found children of about seven or eight still living with their own parents. The usual age of adoption seemed to me to be from nine or ten years upwards.

A man and his wife adopt in this way children belonging to a local group other than their own. The adopted child lives with his or her foster-parents, having a place in their hut and a share of their meals. From about the age of ten children of both sexes begin to be of service to their parents or foster-parents in many ways. The foster-parents treat their adopted children in exactly the same way that they would treat their own children, and the children on the other hand show the same regard and affection to their foster-parents that they do to their own parents, and assist them in every way that they can. Their own parents come to visit them at regular intervals.

The period of childhood is brought to an end at about the age of puberty by certain ceremonies to be described in the next chapter. After the beginning of these ceremonies a boy ceases to live in the hut of his parents or his foster-parents, and must live with the young unmarried men and widowers in what has been called the bachelors’ hut. From this time until he marries, his services are constantly required by his parents or by his foster-parents, and he is expected to obey them and help them in any way he can. It is only after his marriage that he becomes relatively independent and free to please himself in his own actions, and even then he is required to provide his parents or his foster-parents with food, and to serve them in any way they may need.

A girl, during the period between the beginning of the initiation ceremonies and her marriage, continues, at any rate, in some cases, and in these days, to live with her parents or with foster-parents. Mr Man states that the unmarried women and girls occupy a spinsters’ hut similar to the bachelors’ hut. It is possible that this was the former custom. I found instances of an unmarried girl occupying a place in the hut of a married couple who made use of her services and controlled her conduct, regarding her in the light of a foster-daughter. On one occasion I found two unmarried girls occupying a separate hut adjoining that of a married couple, who looked after the girls who occupied it.

The position of an unmarried girl is very similar to that of an unmarried youth. She is required to help her elders, in particular either her parents or her foster-parents, i.e. the married couple under whose care she is for the time being.

After marriage a son continues to help his parents, providing them with food and seeing that they are comfortable. If either a man or a woman lives in a local group other than that of his or her parents, he or she pays frequent visits to them.

From the time that a youth or girl ceases to belong to the family household, his or her duties to the parents are really only the same in kind as the duties that every young man and woman owes to all the older men and women. Though there is no difference in kind, yet a man or woman is expected to show more affection and respect for his or her own parents than to other persons of the same social standing.

The only other relationship, besides that of husband and wife and that of parents and children, which exists inside the family, is that between children of the same parents. The conduct of brothers to one another depends on their respective ages. The younger is expected to give way to the elder, while the latter protects and looks after the former. The relation of sisters to one another is similar.

The duties of a man and woman to his or her relatives, other than those to parents, brothers and sisters, and even to some extent the duties to these near relatives, are not distinguishable in kind from the duties he or she owes to other persons who are not relatives. Thus a young married man owes certain duties to all the older married men of about the age of his father. These duties are the same in kind as those towards his own father and his foster-father, the only difference being that he must defer more to his own father than to other men, and must be more constant in his attentions to him. I could not discover any way in which a man distinguished, in his dealings with them, his father’s brother from his mother’s brother. They are both of them older men whom he must respect and to whom he must make presents of food. Similarly a father’s sister is not distinguished, so far as I could discover, from a mother’s sister. A man treats both of them in much the same way that he treats his own mother, or any other woman of the same age. There is only a slight difference in connection with parents-in-law. A man would not be so familiar with his parents-in-law as he would with his parents or their brothers or sisters, and treats them with more deference and respect. This is borne out by the Akar-Bale custom of applying to a father-in-law or mother-in-law the same term of address (Mama) that is used in speaking to grandparents and others to whom it is required to show particular deference.

In the same way there is very little difference between the way a man conducts himself towards his elder brother and his conduct towards any other man of the same age. Brothers are often close comrades, putting their huts next to one another in the same village, joining together whenever possible in hunting or fishing expeditions, and so on; but a man may have a comrade who is not his brother, whom he will treat in exactly the same way.

The general attitude of a married man to other married men somewhat younger than himself is very much that towards a younger brother. As between men and women one special duty appears in this connection. A married man may not and will not have any close dealings with the wife of a man younger than himself. It is not considered fitting that he should speak to her. If he wished to have any communication with her, he would do so through some third person. It would be regarded as a wrong thing to do if he were ever to touch her. The only explanation that the natives give of this custom is by saying that a man feels “shy” or “ashamed” towards his younger brother’s or friend’s wife. The custom is exactly the same with respect to the wife of any younger man, whether a brother, a cousin, or a stranger.

This custom depends on the distinction between older and younger. A man may be on terms of familiarity with the wife of a man older than himself, whom he would treat much as he would an elder sister.

There is one special relationship which has peculiar duties attaching to it, and this is the relationship between the father and mother of a man on the one hand and the father and mother of the man’s wife on the other. In the Akar-Bale language such persons are said to be aka-yat to one another. A man or a woman will not have any immediate dealings with a person who is his aka-yat. He will not speak to him, and if they should meet or be sitting near to one another they would avoid looking at each other. On the other hand a man is constantly sending presents to his aka-yat. The natives say that two persons in this relation feel “shy” or “ashamed.” (There is only one word in Andamanese for these two English words, ot-ǰete in Aka-J̌eru.) The shyness begins at the moment when a marriage between their respective children is first discussed as a possibility, and lasts apparently till death.

As throwing a little light on this peculiar relation it may be mentioned that a similar relation exists between two men who have been through either the turtle-eating ceremony or the pig-eating ceremony (to be described in the next chapter) on the same occasion. Two such men will avoid any contact with one another, not speaking to nor looking at each other when they chance to meet, but on the other hand they will be constantly giving each other presents of all kinds, sending them through some third person.

The main features of the relationship system of the Andaman Islanders may be briefly summed up. The duties that one person owes to another are determined much less by their relation to one another by consanguinity and marriage, than by their respective ages and social status. Even within the family, which nevertheless is of importance, the duty of a child to a parent is very little different from his duty to any other person of the same age. There is very little of any special customs relating to conduct towards different kinds of relatives. Corresponding to this we find very few terms to denote relationships and a considerable development of the terms which denote age and social status. Thus a man’s duties to his elder brother are much the same as those towards the other men of the same age, and we find that there is no word for “elder brother” but only a term by which a man distinguishes all the men of his own generation older than himself from those who are younger. Similarly there are no duties that a man owes to his father’s brother or to his mother’s brother which he does not also owe, in perhaps a less degree, to other men of the same age, and there is no term by which he can distinguish his father’s brother from those others.

If this account of the system of relationship be accurate it will be seen that the Andamanese society contrasts very strongly, in this matter, with other primitive societies [50].

It remains for us only to examine the social relations between the different local groups. Two neighbouring groups, whether of the same tribe or of different tribes, might be either friendly towards one another or unfriendly. Friendly relations were kept alive by several of the customs of the Andamanese, by the intermarriage of members of different groups, by the adoption of children from one group to another, and by the fact that a man of one group might take up his residence more or less permanently with another (particularly when he married a woman of that group, or was adopted when a boy by one of the men belonging to it). All these customs served to bind some persons in the one group to persons in the other, and thus prevent the two groups from becoming entirely unfriendly to one another.

When two neighbouring local groups were friendly to one another communication between them was kept up by visitors from one group to another, and by occasional meetings of the whole of the two groups.

Either a single person or a family might at any time pay a visit to another camp, staying a few days or weeks or even longer. A man would, however, only go visiting when he was sure of a welcome. Such visits were most frequent in the fine months of the year (December to May). As a husband and wife in many instances belonged to different local groups they would, if living with the man’s parents, pay a visit every year to the parents or other relatives of the wife. The parents of a child that had been adopted by a member of another local group would make a point of visiting the child when they could. Visitors to a camp would always take with them presents to be given to their hosts. A visitor was hospitably entertained, being given the best of the food, and joined his hosts in their hunting and fishing expeditions. The duty of hospitality is one upon which the Andamanese lay stress.

The meetings of two or more local groups were organised from time to time by the more prominent men. The time and place of the meeting would be fixed and invitations sent out to the neighbours. The visitors, men, women and children, would arrive at the appointed time, and would be accommodated as well as possible by the hosts. During the first few hours, as the natives themselves told me, everyone would feel a little shy and perhaps frightened, and it would take some time for this feeling to wear off. The visitors would bring with them various objects, such as bows, arrows, adzes, baskets, nets, red paint, white clay, and so on. These were given by the visitors to their hosts, and other presents were received in return. Although the natives themselves regarded the objects thus given as being presents, yet when a man gave a present to another he expected that he would receive something of equal value in return, and would be very angry if the return present did not come up to his expectations. A man would sometimes mention, when giving his present, that he would like some particular object in exchange, but this was the exception and not the rule, and the process cannot be spoken of as barter. In certain cases it undoubtedly served a useful economic purpose. Thus if a local group had no red ochre or white clay in their own country they could obtain these commodities by exchange with others who had. In the case of a meeting between forest and coast dwellers, the former could obtain such things as shells, red paint made with turtle fat, and other objects with which they could not provide themselves in any other way. It was in this way also that the iron obtained from a wreck on one part of the coast would be spread over a large area. For the most part, however, as each local group, and indeed each family, was able to provide itself with everything that it needed in the way of weapons and utensils, the exchange of presents did not serve the same purpose as trade and barter in more developed communities.

The purpose that it did serve was a moral one. The object of the exchange was to produce a friendly feeling between the two persons concerned, and unless it did this it failed of its purpose. It gave great scope for the exercise of tact and courtesy. No one was free to refuse a present that was offered to him. Each man and woman tried to out-do the others in generosity. There was a sort of amiable rivalry as to who could give away the greatest number of valuable presents.

The visitors remained with their hosts for a few days. The time was spent in hunting, feasting and dancing, and in the exchange of presents above described. The hosts made every effort to provide the camp with plenty of good things. The guests took their share in the hunting and fishing expeditions. Every evening was spent in singing and dancing. Some of the men were sure to have composed new songs for such an occasion.

Such meetings as these were sometimes the means of bringing to an end past quarrels between the local groups, but occasionally they were the cause of new quarrels. The hosts, or some of them, might think that they had been shabbily treated in the matter of presents, or the guests might complain that they were not well enough entertained. It often needed a man of strong influence to maintain harmony in the camp. Angry words might lead to the rapid breaking up of a meeting, and even result in a feud between the two groups.

Quarrels between individuals, as we have seen, were often taken up by friends on each side. This was particularly the case when the two opponents belonged to different local groups. Before the days of the settlement of the islands there often arose in this way petty quarrels between neighbouring local groups. In some instances there appear to have been feuds of long standing; in others there was a quarrel, a fight or two, and the enemies made peace with one another, until a fresh cause of disagreement should arise.

It does not seem that there was ever such a thing as a stand-up fight between two parties. The whole art of fighting was to come upon your enemies by surprise, kill one or two of them and then retreat. A local group that had some grievance against another would decide to make an attack. They might seek and obtain the aid of friends from other local groups. The men who were to take part in the expedition would paint themselves and put on various ornaments and join in a dance [51]. They would then set out, either by land or by sea, in the direction of the encampment they meant to attack. Their weapons consisted of bows and arrows, and they carried no shields or other defensive weapons. They would not venture to attack the enemy’s camp unless they were certain of taking it by surprise. For this reason such attacks were generally made either in the evening when the camp would be busy with the preparation of the evening meal, or at early dawn, when every one would be asleep. The attacking party would rush the camp and shoot as many men as they could. If they met with any serious resistance or lost one of their own number they would immediately retire. Those attacked, if they were really taken by surprise, were generally compelled to save themselves by flight. Though the aim of the attacking party was to kill the men, it often happened that women or children were killed. The whole fight would last only a few minutes, ending either with the retirement of the attackers before resistance, or the flight of those attacked into the jungle. A wounded enemy would be killed if found.

Such attacks and counter-attacks might be continued for some years, thus establishing a feud between two neighbouring local groups. More usually, however, after one or two such fights peace would be made. In the tribes of the North Andaman there was a special peace-making ceremony, that will be described in the next chapter. All peace negotiations were conducted through the women. One or two of the women of the one group would be sent to interview the women of the other group to see if they were willing to forget the past and make friends. It seems that it was largely the rancour of the women over their slain relatives that kept the feud alive, the men of the two parties being willing to make friends much more readily than the women.

An example of a long-continued feud, which, to all appearance, has been in existence for several centuries, is that between the Aka-Bea and the J̌a̤rawa of the South Andaman. The J̌a̤rawa have the advantage over the Aka-Bea that their camps are situated in the dense forest and are difficult to find, while the camps of the Aka-Bea are mostly along the sea-coast. At the present day the J̌a̤rawa take some precautions against being surprised in their camp by a hostile party. The camp is often placed on the top of a hill and the trees in the neighbourhood are cut down so that they have a good view. The paths leading to the camp are also cleared and made wider than is usual in a native path. At times it would seem that they keep sentries on the look-out.

The Aka-Bea and the J̌a̤rawa were inveterate enemies. Whenever two parties of them met by any chance, or came in the neighbourhood of one another, the larger party would attack the other. When the Settlement of Port Blair was established, friendly relations were set up with the Aka-Bea, and since that time the hostility of the J̌a̤rawa has been directed not only against the friendly Andamanese (Aka-Bea, etc.) but also against the inhabitants of the Settlement [52].

Such a thing as fighting on a large scale seems to have been unknown amongst the Andamanese. In the early days of the Penal Settlement of Port Blair, the natives of the South Andaman combined in large numbers to make an attack on the Settlement, but this seems to have been an unusual course of action in order to meet what was to them an altogether unusual contingency, their territory having been invaded by a large force of foreigners. Their only fights amongst themselves seem to have been the brief and far from bloody skirmishes described above, where only a handful of warriors were engaged on each side and rarely more than one or two were killed. Of such a thing as a war in which the whole of one tribe joined to fight with another tribe I could not find any evidence in what the natives were able to tell me of their former customs.

As showing within what narrow limits the different local groups held communication with one another, it may be mentioned that till the year 1875 the Aka-Bea natives of Port Blair did not know of the existence of the Aka-Ko̱l tribe, less than fifty miles distant, nor of any of the tribes further north. As a general rule it may be said that no man knew anything of any of the natives living more than twenty miles from his own part of the country.