Castes and Tribes of Southern India/Shōlaga
Shōlaga.— In his account of the Shōlagas or Sōlagas, early in the last century, Buchanan †[1] writes that they "speak a bad or old dialect of the Karnāta language, have scarcely any clothing, and sleep round a fire, lying on a few plantain leaves, and covering themselves with others. They live chiefly on the summits of mountains, where the tigers do not frequent, but where their naked bodies are exposed to a disagreeable cold. Their huts are most wretched, and consist of bamboos with both ends stuck into the ground, so as to form an arch, which is covered with plantain leaves." The up-to-date Shōlaga, who inhabits the jungles of Coimbatore between Dimbhum and Kollegal near the Mysore frontier, is clad in a cotton loin-cloth, supplemented by a coat of English pattern with regimental buttons, and smears himself freely on special occasions, such as a visit to the Government anthropologist, with sacred ashes in mimiciy of the Lingāyats.
I gather from a correspondent that the following tradition concerning their origin is current. In days of yore there lived two brothers in the Geddesala hills, by name Kārayan and Billaya or Mādhēswara. The Uralis and Shōlagas are descended from Kārayan, and the Sivachāris (LIngāyats) from Mādhēswara. The two brothers fell into the hands of a terrible Rākshasha (demon), by name Savanan, who made Kārayan a shepherd, but imprisoned Mādhēswara for not paying him sufficient respect, and extracted all kinds of menial work from him. Last of all he ordered him to make a pair of shoes, whereupon Mādhēswara asked for his liberty for a few days, to enable him to have the shoes well made. His request being granted, Mādhēswara betook himself to the god Krishnamurti, and asked him for his help in his troubles. The god was only too happy to assist, and suggested that the shoes should be made of wax. Helped by Krishnamurti, Mādhēswara made a very beautiful-looking pair of shoes. Krishnamurti then ordered him to pile up and light a huge bonfire on a bare rocky hill east of Geddesala, so as to make it nearly red-hot. The ashes were then cleared away, so as to leave no trace of their plot. Mādhēswara then took the shoes, and presented them to Savanan, who was much pleased with them, and willingly acceded to Mādhēswara's request that he would put them on, and walk along the rock. But, as soon as he stepped upon it, the shoes melted, and Savanan fell heavily on the rock, clutching hold of Mādhēswara as he fell, and trying to strangle him. Krishnamurti had assembled all the gods to witness the carrying out of the plot, and, telling each of them to pile a stone on Savana's head, himself rescued Mādhēswara from his clutches, and all jumped upon the Rakshasha till no trace of him was left. While this was going on, Kārayan was tending Savanan's herds in the forest, and, when he came to hear about it, was angry with his brother for not consulting him before destroying Savanan. Flying from Karayan, who was armed with a knife, Mādhēswara implored Krishnamurti's help, by which he was able to leap from Kotriboli to the hill called Urugamalai, a distance of some ten miles. The force of the leap caused the hill to bend — hence its name meaning the bending hill. Finding that the hill was bending, and being still hotly pursued by his brother, knife in hand, Mādhēswara again appealed to Krishnamurti, and was enabled to make another leap of about five miles to a hill called Eggaraimalai, which immediately began to subside. Hence its name, meaning the subsiding hill. Thence he fled to Munikanal, and concealed himself under a rock, closely followed by Kārayan, who slashed the rock with his knife, and left marks which are visible to this day. From Munikanal he fled to the hill now known as Mādhēswaranamalai, and hid in a rat hole. Kārayan, not being able to unearth him, sent for a lot of shepherds, and made them pen their sheep and cattle over the hole. The effluvium became too strong for the fugitive, so he surrendered himself to his brother, who pardoned him on the understanding that, on deification, Kārayan should have prior claim to all votive offerings. To this Mādhēswara agreed, and to this day Sivachāris, when doing pūja, first make their offerings to Kārayan and afterwards to Mādhēswara. In connection with this legend, any one proceeding to the top of Kotriboli hill at the present day is expected to place a stone upon the rock, with the result that there are many piles of stones there. Even Europeans are asked to do this.
The Shōlagas are said to call themselves men of five kulams, or exogamous septs, among which are Chalikiri, Tēneru, Belleri, Surya (the sun), and Aleru. By members of the twelve kulam class, everything is done by twelves. For example, on the twelfth day after a birth, twelve elders are invited to the house to bless the child. At a marriage, twelve of the bridegroom's relations go and fetch the bride, and the wedding pandal (booth) has twelve posts. The parents of the bridegroom pay twelve rupees to the bride's father, and a tāli (marriage badge) worth twelve annas is tied round the bride's neck. In case of death, the body is borne on a stretcher made of twelve bamboos, and mourning lasts for twelve days.
Tribal disputes, e.g., quarrelling and adultery, are decided by the Yejamāna, assisted by a Pattagara and a few leading men of the community. Under the orders of the two former is the Chalavāthi or village servant. The Yejamāna, Pattagara, and Chalavāthi must belong respectively to the Chalikiri, Teneri, and Surya septs.
When a girl reaches puberty, she occupies a separate hut for five days, and then returns home after a bath. The maternal uncle should present her with a new cloth, betel leaves and areca nuts, and plantain fruits. In the formal marriage ceremony, the tāli is tied by the bridegroom inside a booth; the maternal uncle, if he can afford it, presents a new cloth to the bride, and a feast is held. Sometimes even this simple rite is dispensed with, and the couple, without any formality, live together as man and wife, on the understanding that, at some time, a feast must be given to a few of the community. I am told that the Shōlagas of the Burghur hills have a very extra-ordinary way of treating expectant mothers. A few days before the event is expected to take place, the husband takes his wife right away into the jungle, and leaves her there alone with three days' supply of food. There she has to stay, and do the best she can for herself. If she does not come back at the end of the three days, the husband goes out and takes her more food. But she may not return to her village till the baby is born. When one of these unfortunate creatures comes back safely, there is a great celebration in her honour, with beating of tom-tom, etc.
The dead are buried with the body lying on its left side, and the head to the south. On their return home from a funeral, those who have been present thereat salute a lighted lamp. On the spot where the dead person breathed his last, a little rāgi (Eleusine Coracana) paste and water are placed, and here, on the fourth day, a goat is sacrificed, and offered up to the soul of the departed. After this the son proceeds to the burial ground, carrying a stone, and followed by men selected from each of the exogamous septs. Arrived near the grave, they sit down, while the son places the stone on the ground, and they then lift it in succession. The last man to do so is said to fall into a trance. On his recovery, leaves (plantain, teak, etc.) corresponding in number to the exogamous septs, are arranged round the stone, and, on each leaf, different kinds of food are placed. The men partake of the food, each from the leaf allotted to his sept. The meal concluded, the son holds the stone in his hands, while his companions pour rāgi and water over it, and then carries it away to the gopamane (burial-ground) of his sept, and sets it up there.
On the occasion of a death in a Mala Vellāla village, the Shōlagas come in crowds, with clarionets and drums, and bells on their legs, and dance in front of the house. And the corpse is borne, in musical procession, to the burning-ground.
The staple food of the Shōlagas is rāgi paste and yams (Dioscorea), which, like the Urālis, they supplement by sundry jungle animals and birds. Paroquets they will not eat, as they regard them as their children.
Their main occupation is to collect minor forest produce, myrabolams, vembadam bark (Ventilago madraspatana), avaram bark (Cassia auriculata), deers' horns, tamarinds, gum, honey, soap-nuts, sheekoy (Acacia Concinna), etc. The forests have been divided into blocks, and a certain place within each block has been selected for the forest depôt. To this place the collecting agents, mostly Shōlagas and Urālis, bring the produce, and there it is sorted and paid for by special supervisors appointed for the work.
In the Coimbatore district the Shōlagas are said to collect honey from rocky crevices. The combs are much larger than those found on trees, and are supposed to contain twice as much wax in proportion to the honey. On the Nilgiri hills honey-combs are collected by Jēn Kurumbas and Shōlagas. The supply of honey varies according to the nature of the season, and is especially plentiful and of good quality when Strobilanthes Wigktianus, S. Kunthiana, and other species are in flower.
It has been said that even wild beasts will scent a Shōlaga, and flee before the aroma.
The Shōlagas, who were examined by Dr. Rivers and myself, came to the conclusion that the object of our enquiry was to settle them in a certain place near London, and that the wools of different colours (used for testing colour vision) given to them for selection, were for tying them captive with. Others said that they could not understand why the different organs of their bodies were measured; perhaps to reduce or increase the size of their body to suit the different works, which they were expected to do near London. It has been pointed out to me, as an interesting fact, that a similarity of idea concerning the modification of different organs to suit men for the doing of special work has been arrived at by the jungle folk, and by Mr. Wells in his book. _(14587489297).jpg)
SHŌLAGA.
Of the experiences of a Shōlaga when out with a European on a shooting expedition, the following account has recently been given.*[2] "My husband was after a bear, and tracked Bruin to his cave. He had torches made, and these he ordered to be thrust into the cave in the hope of smoking the bear out, but, as nothing happened, he went into the cave, accompanied by a Sholigar carrying a torch. As soon as they got used to the light, they saw a small aperture leading into an inner cave, and the Sholigar was told to put the torch in there. Hardly was this done, when out rushed a large bear, knocking over the Sholigar, and extinguishing the torch. My husband could not get his gun up in time to fire, as the bear rushed through the cave into the jungle. Just as the Sholigar was picking himself up, out rushed another bear. This time my husband was ready, and fired. To the Sholigar's horror. Bruin sank down wounded at the entrance to the outer cave, thus blocking the exit, and keeping both tracker and my husband prisoners. The Sholigar began whimpering, saying he was the father of a large family, and did not wish to leave the children fatherless. Soon the bear, though very badly wounded, managed to get to its feet, and crawl away into the jungle, so liberating the prisoners."
Concerning the Shōlagas of the Mysore Province,†[3] I gather that they "inhabit the depths of the forests clothing the foot and slopes of the Biligirirangam hills. They cultivate with the hoe small patches of jungle clearings. Their chief god is Biligiri Rangasvāmi, but they also worship Kāraiyya, their tribal tutelary deity. Their principal food is the rāgi, which they grow, supplemented by wild forest produce. They are partial to the flesh of deer, antelope, pigs, sheep and goats. A few of them have, in recent years, come to own lands. Like the Jēnu Kurumbas, they are perfect trackers of wild animals. Three kinds of marriage prevail among them. The first is affected by the more well-to-do, who perform the ceremony with much éclat under a shed with twelve pillars (bamboo posts), accompanied by music and festivities, which continue for three days. The second is more common, and seems to be a modified form of concubinage. The poorer members resort to the third kind, which consists in the couple eloping to a distant jungle, and returning home only after the bride has become a mother. They speak a patois, allied to old Canarese or Halē Kannada."*[4]