I have now concluded my investigation of the complex of barbarous peoples who, in spite of the proximity of civilized races, have preserved almost intact the rudimentary instincts and ferocious customs of primitive man. No account of these regions, however, would be complete which omitted all references to the Cham,[2] a curious Mohammedan people, formerly very powerful, whose conversion to that faith took place during the zenith of their power and prosperity. The traces of this one-time pre-eminence and the Cham themselves are fast disappearing.

The group belongs to the Malayo-Polynesian race, of which the parent stock seems to have inhabited the region of Annam. The Cham were formerly the rulers of the powerful Empire of Champa, which occupied, as far as we can judge from the somewhat conflicting and unsatisfactory evidence, the eastern coast-line of Indo-China proper. Marco Polo tells us of the fertility of this region in the thirteenth century. It may even be that this country is the self-same Zabai of which Ptolemy speaks.

Nominally Islam is the official religion of this people who seem to have passed through previous stages of Animism and Brahminism. The ancient faiths were too well established to be uprooted by the Moslem conquerors and the outcome is a strange conglomeration in which the ancestral superstitions frequently profit at the expense of the precepts of the Koran.

The last survivors of this once flourishing empire (in all perhaps 130,000 souls), are now confined to the province of Binh-Thuan in Annam. At the time of its downfall before the rising power of the Annamites many of the conquered preferred exile in Cambodia and Siam rather than humiliation and servitude in the land of their birth.

The opportunity of observing and noting the customs, beliefs, and institutions of the Cham was furnished by the preliminary survey which preceded the construction of the railway from Phantiet to Phanrang. During the whole of this time our party was quartered among this interesting people and had many opportunities of developing friendly, and even intimate, relations.

We cannot pretend to have been the first to do so, for previous to our arrival two eminent philologists, MM. Aymonier and Cabaton, had made a searching examination of the manuscripts in the possession of the priests and published two singularly exhaustive studies on the subject.[3]

The Cham have preserved almost unmodified their physical and moral characteristics, largely by means of their law which prohibits intermarriage with any other people. For this reason they exhibit a marked contrast to the Annamites.

The average height of a man is about five feet six inches, that of a woman five feet. The skin is somewhat coarse and varies between a dark brown and a shade of reddish brown such as a European acquires after long exposure in a tropical climate. The auburn or black hair is fine and brittle, while the growth of beard and moustache is more generous than among the Annamites. Partial, or even total, albinism is not uncommon.

The lips and facial outline offer resemblances to those of the European. This is not remarkable, for of all Asiatics the Cham and the Malays exhibit the nearest approach to the Western type.

In spite of a certain tendency to be hollow-backed the women are of fine presence, elegant, and graceful in their movements. Their carriage in walking is particularly remarkable and can be compared with that of the Egyptians. The women of both these races habitually carry heavy objects either on their shoulders or heads and can only maintain them in equilibrium thanks to the most perfect ease in their movements.

If the vigour of this race has not deteriorated during the last centuries it is certain that their fertility has diminished. For some time the birthrate has remained stationary. Retrogression is exhibited in other ways also, for although their ancient civilization must have been highly advanced, little trace of it remains in their present low level of intellect. All ambition to renew the glories of the past has long since evaporated. The ruins of many monuments tell of the ancient splendours, but the living representatives are quite content to recount the triumphs without any desire to emulate them. Is it incapacity or merely universal apathy? The indolence of the Cham is notorious. Even the building of their houses they leave to their neighbours the Annamites.

The first time I entered a Cham village I was amazed at the absence of all vegetation. Shade is one of the prime necessities of life in this country, where the fierce rays of the sun pour down pitilessly all day and make it painful, and even dangerous, for a man to be exposed to them without cover. My colleagues, who had been established in the place for some time, soon explained that as long as we remained among the Cham we might as well relinquish vain hopes of finding a house which would not be exposed to the sun.

This inconvenient defect is the outcome of a popular superstition that the shade of a tree exerts a baneful influence over the house beneath it. A somewhat similar belief prevails in Cambodia, where, however, the minister of evil is alleged to be not the shade but the roots of trees which penetrate below a house.

However, the lack of shade was by no means the greatest discomfort we were called on to face. There were many others.

A native habitation comprises as many miniature houses as there are households (and almost even members) in the family. Every girl of marriageable age has a special room. The married members have another, while a third is reserved for the boys who have attained puberty. Naturally, the larger the family the smaller are the separate rooms, and so the apartment assigned to us was usually little more than a box with space for only a small folding-bed, the solitary piece of furniture. These low, thatched huts were scattered about a kind of compound bounded on each side by a flimsy palisade of bamboos secured together by thongs of cane.

The costume of the men consists of a skirt and a very long robe. The women wear a large piece of cloth wrapped round to form a rude skirt. Gay colours are somewhat restricted, white and white striped with red and green being the most popular. For bodice they have a clinging dark-green tunic open at the throat.

Their taste in jewellery is remarkably restrained. The rich wear silver or gold buttons in their ears. Of the poorer classes some confine their personal embellishment to copper nails and others wear a plait made of coloured threads which falls over their shoulders. We sometimes noticed bracelets on the wrists of some of the girls. This ornament serves to remind its wearer of the temporary vow of chastity which she has taken to guard her against some danger or cure an illness.

Others again wear a necklace of large amber beads from which hangs the Tamrak, a kind of amulet which wards off the powers of evil. This indispensable talisman consists of a small cylinder of lead on which a priest has traced mystic characters with a sharp-pointed instrument.

Both sexes keep their hair long and, like the Annamites, twist it into a knot at the back. The men wear as head-dress either a large turban or sometimes merely a kerchief. Pockets are unknown, but two purses hung from a long girdle provide an excellent substitute.

In early times the Cham princes set up their royal residence and the seat of government in Phanrang. In the seventeenth century their office was still hereditary, but the Court of Hué reserved the right of investiture. In the nineteenth century successive invasions undermined the authority of those potentates and all appointments to administrative offices were made by the Annamite conquerors, who made their selection among the local aristocracy.

The Cham of Cambodia are all Mohammedans, but of those of Annam about two-thirds have remained Brahmins. Their countrymen of the later faith call them "Kaphirs" (infidels), and reserve to themselves the title of "Bani" (sons of the faith). Nevertheless, there is perfect toleration between the followers of the two religions. The priests honour with their presence the ritual ceremonies of the group whose beliefs they do not share and neither party attempts to make converts of the adherents of the other.

The calendar of the Cham is partly lunar and partly solar. The beginning and end of each month coincides with a new moon. As in the Hindu calendar, this lunar month has a light half which culminates in the full moon and a dark half which is terminated by the new moon. The duodenary cycle is employed for the purpose of measuring time. This system was invented by the Turks, but the Chinese have been mainly instrumental in securing its adoption throughout the Far East. Each of the twelve years of which it is composed is called by the name of some animal—Rat, Buffalo, Tiger, Hare, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Cock, Dog, Boar.

The year begins in April-May and comprises twelve lunar months of thirty and twenty-nine days alternatively. They are numbered from one up to ten, but the eleventh and twelfth have special names. Every three years a month is added, and it may well be imagined to what difficulties and disputes this proceeding gives rise in the absence of agreement between the villages.

There are seven days in the week. Their names are borrowed from the Sanscrit and, like ours, represent a planet. Each day has twelve hours, twice the length of ours, of which the first begins at cockcrow. The night consists of five watches.

These are the component parts of the system in which it is quite simple to calculate any date. For example, a document may be dated thus: "Signed, Monday the fourth day of the light half of the fifth month of the year of the Dragon."

It is probable that in early times the Cham computed time by a system similar to that of the ancient Javanese, a people with whom they maintained close political and commercial relations, as witness several alliances between members of the two reigning houses. The Javanese calendar comprised a week of five days, a month of six weeks, a year of ten months, each with its special tutelary deity.

Life among the Cham is greatly complicated by rules of etiquette, of which the most stringent regulate the relations between those of different age and rank. Age is regarded with special reverence and an old man, whatever his social condition, is always addressed as Uncle or Grandfather by his juniors in years. An inferior addresses his superior as Elder Brother.

As in Cambodia methods of greeting are various. If a man meets a friend of superior station a due and proper sign of deference is to adjust his girdle or cross the cloth which fulfils the functions of trousers. If he is carrying an umbrella he will hold it forward towards the person he thus wishes to honour. Then a conversation will take place. During the whole time he will take the greatest care to avoid swinging his arms, the most flagrant act of disrespect. To guard against even an unwitting breach of this regulation a well-bred Cham will clasp his hands together, a precaution which prevents any movement of the arms. If a woman desires to address a request to a Mandarin or a European, her preliminary salutation is a complicated manœuvre which recalls the Andjali of the Hindus and cannot be executed without preparation. She takes off the turban which keeps her hair in position, wraps it round her like a shawl, drops on her knees and finally prostrates herself three times in succession at full length on the ground. In the interval between each prostration she rubs her face with her hands.

In India, where etiquette takes a different form, no one should appear in public without an ornament of some kind in the hair; if the head is completely unadorned it signifies either mourning or absolute retirement from the world. This rule seems to be of very ancient origin and to have been kept alive largely by sculpture. It is remarkable that all the statues of divinities in the temples have an ornament of some kind in the hair.

It is not merely the number and variety of the rules of etiquette which distinguish the Cham from other groups of similar culture. They are equally remarkable for the multiplicity of the rites which accompany each act, however insignificant, of their daily life. I can only recount here some of the more important ones which present features of their own.

An accidental fire destroyed the native house which a village chief had placed at our disposal, during the survey in that neighbourhood. We offered to rebuild it on our own lines, with the latest improvements. Far from expressing any gratification at the suggestion he showed the greatest surprise and displeasure and was more than contented with the very modest sum we gave him with which to do the work himself. Little did we imagine the trials in store for us. We were provided with temporary accommodation in a barn, without shade of any sort. The ill-fitting planks let in as much sun as rain and wind, and we were all impatience to see the completion of our future dwelling. Time, however, counts for next to nothing in the Far East, and for nothing at all among the Cham. Within a few days it was patent that a long delay was inevitable and we were soon resigned to the prospect of waiting indefinitely while the rebuilding, impeded by innumerable daily ceremonies, proceeded from stage to stage.

First of all, a place which is to be hallowed by the performance of so many rites must be enclosed within a light palisade as holy ground. For this purpose dead wood is chosen, for it must never be forgotten that the shade cast by foliage forbodes evil. In this enclosing wall an opening is made to give passage to the divinities of the five cardinal points. Without their help it would be vain for man to enter upon so grave an undertaking.

The area having thus been marked out, the next step is to determine its centre. For this purpose a cord is requisitioned. The spot thus fixed serves as a point by which to find the positions for the columns which are to support the building. A hole is dug to furnish a foundation for the north-east column. Into this the owner throws a magic amulet with the most elaborate precaution. The talisman consists of a sheet of lead on which certain mystic characters are engraved. Only after this solemn consecration is the column fixed in position. The day's work is then concluded. Next day a similar performance accompanies the establishment of a second column. One day one column is more than we can stand, and after every form of persuasion and argument the easy-going architect consents to consecrate the remaining columns on the same day.

Alas! When the framework of the roof is complete religious observance requires that an amulet shall be inserted at every point of contact with the beams of the walls! Then again there is a prolonged and bitter controversy over the choice of thatch. Our Annamite coolies have been foolish enough to collect a supply of bulrushes which are considered to exert a malignant influence! The offending material is immediately burnt and a new delay begins. At length the work is completed and the house stands ready for immediate occupation. Nothing seems to prevent our entry into possession and at daybreak we move across with our baggage and establish ourselves each in his diminutive cabin. Hardly has the unpacking begun than the owner rushes in with hands upraised in horror. In our haste we have unwittingly committed almost every conceivable act of sacrilege!

A cat should have been the first to enter the new abode, and after it the Master, and he alone may declare the building open. There is no help for it. We hastily put back our belongings and tumble the boxes out into the yard. We remain as unwilling spectators of a ceremony which we are assured is positively the last. Our host prostrates himself on the ground at the exact spot which he selects for his own bed. He then rises and intones a chant proper to the occasion, which consists of the recital of all the places to be avoided when selecting a site for a new dwelling.

"I will flee far," says the Holy Canticle, "from the haunts of the White Ant. I will turn aside from the dwelling-places of demons and evil spirits. Sloping places I will shun. I will sound clayey soil. In short I will never be found where evil is to be apprehended."

And the pious architect concludes the last of the rites and leaves us to the place.

Irritated though we were by the interminable proceedings which had postponed our occupation of the promised land, it is only fair to say that at all times we displayed the greatest interest in other ritual ceremonies which involved no personal disadvantages to ourselves. Each day provided us with new matter for investigation and speculation.

Undoubtedly one of the most curious proceedings is the consecration of a cart before its entry into active service. The manufacture of these vehicles is, perhaps, the most flourishing industry of the Cham. Their reputation is almost world-wide and thoroughly deserved. The industry dates from a very early period and was brought into prominence during the fourteenth century by the demand of the Hindu princes for beautiful cars for wedding gifts to their brides. The dedication takes place with the greatest pomp and is not complete without a sacrifice. First the wheelwright sprinkles his new material with holy water, then takes it to the river bank. There he subjects it to a severe scouring, after which it is considered as purified. Next coloured tapers are fixed on the uprights and finally he draws his knife and cuts out the framework.

"Cart," he cries, "woe betide you if ever the fancy take you not to roll your best."

The Cham prefer the banks of a river or the shores of a lake as a site for their settlements. They frequently build whole villages on huge floating rafts, but the staple industry of these lake-dwelling groups is the building of light boats and racing skiffs. These are made from trees and, as long narrow trunks are indispensable, the favourite medium is the dipterocarpus, which is plentiful in these regions. The tree is felled and then hollowed to its full length, the ends being shaped to a tapering point. To obtain the necessary elasticity the parts are exposed to a wood fire before the moulding process is commenced. Every stage of the proceedings is accompanied by prayers and sacrifices such as we have seen marking the dedication of the wagon.

It is general knowledge that in Cambodia and the region of Laos canoe races figure in all public festivals of importance. These regattas attract a large number of spectators of all nations and the Cham naturally take a conspicuous part.

The boats display quite a high standard of artistic skill. On the inside they are decorated with red lacquer. On the outside they are black and gold. Some idea of the size appears in the fact that they are sometimes built to accommodate fifty paddlers.

Every king, prince, bonze and noble has, or should have, his private boat and liveried crew, for the races proper are preceded by an aquatic procession, when each boat passes before the dais on which is seated the President of the Festivities. Nothing could be more elating than the sight of the beautiful rhythmical movements of the paddlers swinging forward with mechanical precision until their foreheads almost touch their knees. These voluntary sailors furnish an example of discipline which might well be followed in high places.

Agriculture among the Cham is limited to the cultivation of a few ricefields and the growth of tobacco, cotton and pea-nuts. Cattle-raising does not include that of cows and pigs, the flesh of which is forbidden by religion. Other industries are bee-keeping, the export of the wax for religious purposes, and the manufacture of torches of resin which find a ready market among the Annamites. I have already mentioned other specialities.

Agriculture, commerce and industry show not the least sign of expansion. The Cham is not ambitious, much less inventive and exhibits no trace of envy of his progressive Annamite conquerors, whose industrious activity is a vivid contrast to the proverbial lethargy of Orientals. Unhappily the indifference of the Cham to material prosperity is a recent development. In the great days of Empire they must have been a very active and intelligent race and even to-day we find relics of their inventive skill among their Medicine Men.

These specialists jealously guard the secret, which has been handed down by tradition, of certain medicines to which Europeans have had recourse on occasion. More than once during our expedition we were glad to invite the good offices of the native herbalists when, prostrated by dysentery, shivering with fever or weakened by anæmia, we had exhausted the resources of our own pharmaceutical arsenal. The native doctors are as skilful as the Chinese in utilizing various simples and are quite familiar with the medicinal properties of certain animal products.

We have known cases in which an unnameable brew, of which the principal constituents were the shells of beetles, the scales of snakes, and the parings of stags' antlers and bullocks' hooves, effected a quicker cure than all our European drugs, for all their scientific names. The pharmacopœia of the Cham is certainly an offshoot of that of the Chinese. It comprises a list of all manner of remedies for moral as well as physical disorders.

Camphor, a substance universally appreciated, appears also among the medicines of the Cham. They use a certain oil which, when impregnated with camphor, acts as an anæsthetic by evaporating and producing a freezing sensation. It forms a kind of liniment and is kept in a small, brightly coloured glass flask, which is stoppered with a cork of wax to prevent evaporation.

Wax is also used to make capsules, about the size of a pigeon's egg, to hold drugs and other medicinal substances which must be kept from contact with the air.

Cholera, which is endemic throughout this region, is treated by taking pills made up of a mixture of sandalwood, the bark of the mangostan, and eagle-wood. Eagle-wood, of which I shall have much to say later on, is well known as an excellent tonic. Popular superstition endows it with powers so remarkable that a single piece could effect an immediate cure.

Most of the brews or broths are prepared by decoction rather than by infusion and the operation should take place over a slow fire, which makes them more potent. Their effect is extremely violent, and in Europe we should unhesitatingly classify them with the group of remedies popularly known as "horse pills."

Among the most potent I might mention the gall of animals which is often used to produce the effect of an emetic.

At one time the Cham sorcerers used human bile as well as that of animals. This human bile was useless unless taken from a living subject, and consequently murders without number were committed for the purpose of obtaining it. Its reputation as a talisman was universal. It was said that any man who rubbed himself with it became invulnerable. Of course it was inevitable that a warrior should become invincible when he was certain that his victory, thanks to his supernatural protection, was a foregone conclusion. The King himself had no doubts as to the efficacy of this talisman and before going into battle ordered his elephants to be sprayed with it. His special emissaries, who enjoyed the name of Jalavoi ("Stealers of human bile"), drew their host of victims from every quarter, and even to-day the memories of their horrid activities evoke a shudder.

Happily those evil days have departed. Human bile is no longer used either for protective or medicinal purposes. It remains only as the subject of legend.

Besides this special and curious emetic the Cham produce the same effect by certain mechanical processes the originality of which merits detailed description.

When a sick man's stomach seems overladen with bile and the medicine man wishes to empty it completely, he stuffs a rag soaked in urine and other evil-smelling substances into the patient's mouth. He rams it down as far as it will go and then quickly withdraws it. Physical aversion and the irritation of the glottis produced by a foreign body immediately provoke a spasm of sickness. No doubt some milder emetic would have been equally successful.

I frequently doctored the Cham and I can bear witness that they make the best of patients. They took ipecacuanha, castor-oil, or sulphate of soda, as if they enjoyed them. When they came again they often brought me a present of a little candle in a curious candlestick made from the banana-plant. I learnt later that it was the custom to bring an offering of some kind in lieu of fee to the native doctors.

Suicide is very uncommon in these regions, where the means of life are within the reach of all, passions easily mastered, and an easy-going philosophy is practised from the cradle. The few who find life not worth living leave it with the help of opium which they mix with vinegar.

At present the native authorities throughout Indo-China have taken no steps to regulate the manufacture and sale of poisons. It is quite usual for the most virulent of these to be sold publicly in the open market, and it must be admitted that any regulations would probably be ineffective to stop the trade. Nature in Asia has always been lavish with toxic substances. Even if the sale of these were prohibited, anyone could find as many as he wished in the nearest forest. This abundance is undoubtedly responsible for the large and increasing number of murders by poison which distinguish the regions inhabited by the Cham. We ourselves, isolated in the bush, had to take the most elaborate precautions to prevent fatalities of this kind.

On our arrival in the country we were forewarned of the danger by the French resident magistrate of the province. He laid special stress on the risks run by young bachelors who attempted any intimacies with the native girls. The seducer, it appears, is marked out for destruction, even if he has only yielded to the blandishments of the woman. Further, many of the Cham poisons only work slowly and the mischief they cause in the system is frequently taken for disorders which follow anæmia and other illnesses, to which foreigners in this climate are peculiarly liable. One of my colleagues died from an attack of what we believed to be malaria. We all feel now that if an autopsy had been made we should probably have discovered that what we thought was cachexia was the effect of poison.

Besides being familiar with the nature and use of poisons the Cham are also expert in concocting stupefying drugs and narcotics of all kinds. They often poison the air of a room in which a patient is lying by blowing stupefying vapours through hollow canes inserted in the wattled walls. The effect of these fumes is to make the victim sleep more heavily and the criminals take advantage of this circumstance to rob him at their leisure.

I had a vivid personal experience of this diabolical procedure. One evening I arrived with my escort at a house which our coolies had built specially for us and where we were to stay several weeks. The furniture consisted of nothing more than a bamboo bedstead supporting a mattress of cotton wadding. My room was very narrow and the seven cases which contained my instruments and cooking utensils were all the furniture I needed in addition. I told my boy to push two of these cases under the bed in order to save space. We had been marching all day under a tropical sun and I flung myself on the mattress and fell asleep at once. I awoke, according to habit, at about four in the morning and was surprised to feel myself so cramped that I could hardly move. To add to my astonishment I could not find my matches which I always kept within reach. The case which I had placed to serve as a bedside table had likewise disappeared.

With great effort I rose from bed and stumbling at each step managed to get out of the house. My sole garment was my pyjamas, for my clothes had followed the matches. It was still dark and I soon collided with an obstacle which proved on investigation to be one of the cases. I was somewhat alarmed and called for my servants. No one answered. A feeling of overpowering drowsiness overcame me and I had just time to get back to my bed before I fell asleep again. When morning came my orderly came in to announce that six out of the seven boxes were scattered about the outskirts of our camp. Locks had been forced and all my papers, instruments, photographic plates and prints, and wallets ruthlessly thrown out after obvious examination. It was plain that the burglars had been hunting for bank-notes. Fortunately I had no money in the cash-box. I had left the few thousand piastres which constituted our reserve with a colleague, so the total haul did not amount to more than two silver bangles and a few gewgaws, which together were not worth more than ten piastres.

As for the seventh case, it contained the whole of our supplies, and its disappearance left us with nothing but the impressions of our journey to breakfast on.

That evening, while clearing the thickets quite six kilometres from our camp, our coolies came upon the missing case. It was almost intact. Only one box had been opened and it bore upon its label a sketch of the sucking-pig it contained. As swine's flesh is abhorred by the Cham I can only conclude that we owed the recovery of our portable larder to that happy chance.

Two years later a second attempt of the same kind and not less audacious was perpetrated upon me. I was at Hanoi, residing in a house situated in a narrow avenue and next to the barracks. It was at the beginning of the rainy season and a violent storm was raging. I was sleeping on the first floor, and one of my Tonkinese orderlies, a hardy young bachelor, stationed himself at the bottom of the stairs to guard me. I had allowed another to bring his family into the house and the family, including its real members, friends and acquaintances, turned out to comprise eleven persons. In return for this concession they arranged to mount guard in turn. It will be acknowledged that I was thus not alone in the desert!

It must have been about midnight and I was dozing lightly (being prevented from sleeping by feverishness), when I suddenly noticed that my reading-lamp outside the mosquito-net was lit. It occurred to me that I could not have been so foolish as to leave it lit and I distinctly remembered putting out the light when I got into bed. I sat up to rouse my senses and heard a slight noise in the next room. I was out of bed in a moment just in time to catch a parcel of clothing which was evidently thrown at me to trip me up. By the light from the reading-lamp I distinctly saw a man perfectly naked, his body shining as if he had just had a bath in oil. I remembered in a flash that the Annamite robber always take this precaution to make capture more difficult. Before I could snatch my revolver the burglar had displayed his ape-like agility by leaping through the window and vanishing in the darkness.

I called up my men, but they only told me they had heard nothing. I confess with shame I lost my temper. Suspecting those whom I had so imprudently harboured of complicity in the plot I hunted from the house all except my usual staff. I enjoyed such consolation as was afforded by the sight of the silhouettes of the defaulting watchmen cowering in the pelting rain. Any remorse I experienced quickly vanished when I made inquiries later!

CHAPTER II
SOCIAL AND FAMILY LIFE

It is well known that the ancient matriarchal system of government and ownership still flourishes among certain peoples who inhabit the peninsula of the Ganges and some groups of Malayo-Polynesian origin. In this system man belongs to an inferior order of creation. All political and social authority is exercised by woman and she alone can possess and inherit. This veritable triumph of feminism might have been expected to produce results far more disastrous than has been the case. Proof that life under such circumstances can be both possible and tolerable is furnished by the history of the Malays of the Negri Sambilan (British Malaysia), which is little more than a monotonous record of good fortune and prosperity.

The system is frequently accompanied by the institution of polyandry in which the husbands cohabit in turn with the common wife who has herself selected them.

Now the institutions of both the Cham and the Cambodians show traces of descent from an earlier organization of which the matriarchal system was the distinguishing feature. On no other hypothesis can we account for some striking facts. Family is traced through the mother. The children take her name, adopt her religion if they are the issue of a mixed marriage, and remain her property in case of divorce. Inheritance descends in the female line alone. A woman is the principal figure in many of the domestic ceremonies and she retains at all times the right to select her husband.

The time at which girls pass from infancy to puberty (when they are at once considered of marriageable age) is celebrated by a curious ceremony called the "Karoh," which is doubtless derived from that precept of the Koran which prohibits a repudiated or divorced woman from entering upon a new union until after a retirement extending over three menstrual periods. The festival lasts two days and the proceedings are under the personal supervision of the Ong Gru (High Priest) himself, who is assisted by a number of acolytes.

Two huts of boughs and leaves are constructed specially for the occasion. One is destined to serve as dormitory to the girls of the village whose puberty is to be officially recognized. The other is to accommodate the numerous audience which always gathers to witness the accomplishment of the rite.

At the first sign of daybreak the young neophytes advance in a group towards the High Priest. Each wears her gayest robes and her most precious jewels. Her hair falling freely on her shoulders is crowned with a mitre. One by one they bow reverentially before the officiating minister who places on their lips a grain of salt, offers a cup of pure water, and then cuts a piece of hair from their foreheads. This last action signifies that the girls' reputation is unsullied. If the contrary is demonstrated by ocular proof the piece of hair will be taken not from the forehead but from the back of the neck. This constitutes, both among the Cham and the Cambodians, a mark of infamy.

A one-year-old baby, carried in the arms of an old man, is the object of the same rites.

The girls thus initiated now retire to the place assigned to them, obviously to carry out the semblance of withdrawal from the world. During their absence the priests take a hearty meal, the remains of which are distributed to the faithful. About midday the girls return, this time with their hair twisted into a knot on their necks, a patent indication that the age of marriage has been reached. Relations and friends join in offering them gifts to celebrate the happy event. A generous feast follows to which are invited all who have taken any part in the proceedings, and shortly after the girls enter into their new sphere.

The High Priests say that the "Karoh" is in essence a symbol. The moon, a feminine divinity, attains her full perfection only at the fifteenth day. In the same way the "Karoh" must be celebrated as nearly as possible in a girl's fifteenth year when her development is complete.

Up to the time of her consecration in this manner a girl is "taboo," and all sexual relations with her are strictly prohibited.

The Cambodians have very similar rites and regulations. Before attaining the age of marriage a girl is regarded as one of the spouses of Indra, the King of the Gods, and in virtue of this exalted station no man dare cultivate any intimate relations with her. Immediately on the occurrence of her first menstruation she "enters into the shade," that is, takes refuge under her mosquito-net and withdraws from the world altogether for a period which varies between five and a hundred days. As long as the sun shines the recluse may not even leave her couch, but occasionally an eclipse procures her a temporary release from her gaol. No man may approach her, for she must not be exposed to the temptation of looking at a male. Her diet is strictly prescribed, fish and meat being prohibited, and in any case she is restricted to one meal a day, taken between sunrise and midday, after the manner of the bonzes.

This compulsory seclusion is a terrible hardship, for an open-air life is almost a necessity in these tropical climates where the heat is overpowering. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that the termination of the imprisonment is an occasion for great rejoicing. "Leaving the shade," as this fête is called, is frequently marked by the lacquering of the girl's teeth, an operation which is accompanied with all manner of rites and is preceded by a special dedicatory ceremony.

Regulations which seem to aim at secluding girls at the time they attain puberty are not peculiar to Indo-China. Thus the Vaï of Liberia cloister their girls at the age of ten in a place called "Sandy," which is hidden away in the depths of a great forest. The recluses are considered dead to their family who are not allowed to see them. Their only visitors are a few old women, their only occupations minor domestic duties and initiation into the mysteries of marriage. If a betrothal is arranged during this period the girl is liberated on the appearance of the first signs of puberty.

If we are to believe legend (and legend is often worthy of belief), both in Denmark and Siberia the same period in a girl's life is preceded by a similar retirement. Frazer cites several instances which dispel all doubt on the subject.

The rite of circumcision, or rather, the rite of simulated circumcision, among the Cham Bani only takes place when the boys are in their fifteenth year. This ceremony is, in fact, purely symbolical.

Armed with a wooden knife the officiating priest makes a pretence of performing the act after which he gives the novice his ceremonial name, which is always taken from the Arabic calendar and is sure to be either Ali, Ibrahim, or Mahomet. The acquisition of this religious surname does not prevent a boy from using his unredeemed name in ordinary life.

The ceremony known as the "Entry into Religion" should take place at about the age of five, but in practice it is always reserved until the age of puberty though never delayed until after marriage. It will be remembered that the custom of postponing circumcision characterized the Persians also.

The Cham have a saying that you might as well leave an elephant among the sugar canes as leave a man alone with a girl. The proposition may be sweeping but receives enough illustration to make it plausible.

However that may be, it must be remembered that no sexual relationships are prohibited except those which do not sooner or later contemplate marriage. If a girl is seduced and the consequences of her action begin to make themselves evident she is at once put under arrest. Her ankles are secured by thongs of buffalo hide; with these marks of ignominy she appears before the Council of Notables. There she is adjured to reveal the author of her undoing. If she gives the name of the seducer he is compelled to marry her and pay a fine by way of compensation to her parents. This fine is the "Price of Shame" and invariably substantial. If, however, the girl refuses to divulge the name of her seducer a sentence of fifty strokes with a cane is passed, an extremely heavy penalty. Before the punishment is actually inflicted a hole is dug in the ground and the sufferer made to lie at full length with her stomach in it. This is a precaution to prevent an abortion.

As soon as a girl has found the man of her choice her parents pay an official visit to those of her fortunate husband-designate. They take with them two cakes and some betel. If the young man tastes this it is a sign that he accepts betrothal and an engagement follows.

A curious custom in this country is that the consummation of the marriage does not coincide with its celebration. To do so would be to court the malevolence of the powers of evil! Cohabitation is the first step in the proceedings. In this way the new household saves all wedding expenses and it is by no means infrequent that the children are old enough to take part in the festivities by the day fixed for the official celebration of the nuptials.

The marriage takes place in the evening in a hut specially built for the occasion. Hand in hand the happy pair walk on mats from their own dwelling to the place appointed for the fête. Indeed it is a most important part of the rites that their feet shall not come into contact with the bare ground. Their garments are of white cotton and unhemmed, resembling in this respect the mourning clothes worn by the Annamites. The girl enters the house, leaving her partner on the threshold where stands the priest who is to bless their union.

A dialogue ensues between the minister and the man.

"Prince Ali," asks the former, "what are your gifts to the Princess Fatima, your future spouse?"

"O Lord Mahomet, I bring her a silver ring, two talismans for her neck, a necklace of amber, a fertile rice-field, and two bullocks trained to the plough."

With these words the husband gives the ring to the priest who blesses it and hands it to his two acolytes, who bear it away to place on the finger of the bride.

She, invisible behind the door of the house, receives the two messengers who question her on her desires. If she gives her consent to the marriage she is immediately led to her husband who escorts her in solemn procession to their new home. Before entering, however, the man throws three betel leaves on the ground and crushes them one after another with his foot.

A white cloth is thrown over the nuptial couch and the married pair take their places side by side upon it. The deacons join their hands and sprinkle holy water over them. Next several candles are lit, the pair receive official benediction, and at length find themselves alone.

The rites, however, are not yet concluded, for the woman gravely rolls up a quid of betel which she puts into the mouth of her husband. In return he takes off part of his clothing to make a covering for her. They then leave the house and fall at the feet of the priests and their parents. Their friends seize an early opportunity of proclaiming in a loud voice the gifts they offer, while a secretary draws up the list to prevent misunderstanding.

The proceedings terminate with a monster banquet. The man's family provide the meat and drinks while the woman's are responsible for the rice and cakes.

In Cambodia the Cham allow a disappointed suitor to prevail over the opposition of his loved one's family by executing the following mock manœuvres.

He waits until nightfall and seizing the moment when the girl's door is open to make his entry into the house, clasps her in his arms and throws about them both a shawl brought for the purpose.

After this elaborate pretence of rape the family have no choice but to withdraw their opposition and allow the match to proceed. They never fail, however, to exact vengeance from the mock ravisher in the shape of fearful abuse and a more or less substantial fine.

The women make very faithful wives, so much so that cases of adultery are rare. Normally this crime is punishable with death, but in practice the sentence is always commuted to a fine, sometimes accompanied by whipping.

Besides, every facility is afforded for the dissolution of the union on the ground of incompatibility of temperament. Divorce is easy. The woman's right to select her husband is paired with the right to get rid of him at will or change him for another. In this case she herself keeps the family dwelling and the lion's share of the property.

Although the religion of Mahomet permits the possession of four wives, in practice the Cham have insufficient means to provide for more than one. Accordingly, polygamy is exceptional, the expense being prohibitive.

Certain prohibitions are too remarkable to be passed over in silence.

Both the Brahminist and the Mussulman Cham abstain from sexual relations on Mondays, as being the day of the week on which Allah was born.

During pregnancy the women take the greatest care to avoid a certain kind of Javanese banana for fear of giving birth to a monster which will one day turn and torment them.

The rites accompanying birth are materially the same as those of the Moï. There is the same "Accouchement at the Fire," to use the expression in vogue in the country. It means that a fire is kindled by the woman's couch from the beginning of the accouchement to the time she is allowed to leave her bed, seven days after the birth. This fire is kept carefully guarded by the matrons with a "ring" of cotton thread. They also leave a huge lighted candle at the side to ward off evil spirits.

When the mother is about again the midwife puts out the fire and plants an iron stake in the middle of the ashes. These she collects with the greatest care and bears them off with religious fervour to deposit at a fork of the nearest road in the vicinity. They form a little heap on the top of which she places a stone. Then she lays a quid of betel on this improvised altar.

I was extremely curious for a long time as to the meaning of these pious erections which I saw at every cross-road, but no one dared nor cared to give me any information. Those whom I interrogated took refuge in evasion and turned the conversation. I might have remained for ever in ignorance had not the Annamites proved more communicative some time later. I then learned that in popular superstition cross-roads are the favourite haunts of spirits, souls in torment, ghosts, and other beings whose influence is baneful.

The Cham are extremely fond of their children and spare no pains to keep them amused. Indeed, their affection goes the length of leaving them in complete ignorance of soap and water, an omission for which the babies are duly grateful. It is especially gratifying to the benevolent spirits if the mother smears her child's face with a mixture of flour and saffron, a substance the yellow colour of which meets with the particular approval of the deities whose own visages are of that colour if we are to credit tradition. On the other hand, the mother who has been visited by a bad dream covers her baby with soot to hide it from evil spirits.

The natural consequence of these precautions is that the young Cham, like the young Moï, grow up in a condition of filth which is aggravated by the onslaught of mosquitoes and the appearance of innumerable sores. Further they are extremely liable to gastro-enteritis due to their parents' reprehensible practice of stuffing them with rice until their small stomachs are stretched taut like a drum.

Throughout the Far East the kiss is replaced by a kind of snort applied to the back of the neck just behind the ear. The children are particularly fond of this type of demonstration for they burst into shouts of laughter whenever their mothers relieve their maternal feelings in this manner. If the child grows up in spite of his parents' apprehensions, at about the age of six months he receives a name which is considered to sum up his prospects in life. Thus a fine chubby boy will be called Peace, Amber or Gold. A small, weakly girl will receive the name of Discord, Pillage or Bat. But suppose this last child survives the early years and her infantile disorders, at about the age of twelve her name of reproach is exchanged for one of more happy meaning for she has passed the age at which the spirits are allowed to exercise a baneful influence. In spite of this mode of rehabilitation, however, the parents usually forget to change the name and her old soubriquet clings to her through life. This at all events is some explanation for the curious fact that in searching the historical records of the Cham we are always coming across kings rejoicing in the unfortunate titles of "Typhus the Third," and "Cholera the Fourth."

It will be remembered that the Aryans considered the name as forming part of a man's nature. The Hindus, too, believe that it exercises a profound influence over the destinies of its bearer. For example, the Laws of Manu enjoin that a man shall not marry a woman who bears the name of a serpent, a barbarous race, a slave, or any ugly object.

Among the Cham of Cambodia every child undergoes the operation known as "Molot," the "Hair-cutting," a rite which has much in common with the "Tonsuring" of the Brahminist Hindus and the non-Mussulman natives of Cambodia. It even bears some resemblance to the ceremony of Christian baptism as it was observed in the days of the early Church under the name given to it by the Early Fathers of "Regeneration of the Soul." Both centre round the rite of purification with holy water and both show the neophyte in that same robe of spotless white which is the symbol of the pure life on which he enters.

A Hindu legend relates that Siva himself instituted this ceremony when he baptized his grandson, the child of Genesa. It took place on the holy mountain of Keylasa in the centre of a marvellous island inhabited by spirits, and secured from the intrusion of mortals by a great lake filled with a liquid on which nothing could float.

An odd day and year is chosen for the celebration of the rite. If the novice is of illustrious parentage a wooden erection is put up and painted to resemble the legendary Mount Keylasa. Two paths are made leading to the top and bordered with shrubs. The one faces to the East and is used by the minor officials, the other facing the West is destined for the presiding priest only.

Some of the deacons now play on archaic instruments such as castanets of bronze, and a novel feature of the orchestra is a kettle-drum with an ingenious contrivance by which each side is struck alternately with a stone ball.

The child, dressed in a long white robe studded with small pieces of metal, advances towards the priest who shaves the crown of his head and lays the hair removed on a snow-white linen cloth. Then priest and neophyte ascend the path to the top of the imitation Keylasa where a large circular basin awaits them. The youth, with a cotton crown on his head, is at once sprinkled with holy water and baptized while some children carefully wipe his feet and march round him holding torches. This circumambulation is repeated nineteen times in honour of the novice's nineteen souls. Throughout the East many souls are accredited to every human being. Of these one alone is deemed immortal. The vital soul resides in the navel, the supreme soul in the bosom.

The young Cham only receives the minimum of education. The priests teach the boys the first principles of reading and writing. In the first lessons the pupils learn by heart the letters of the alphabet, each letter representing, according to Hindu belief, one of the divinities which make their dwelling-place in the human body. After the alphabet come the names of the animals which symbolize the years of the duodenary cycle. The remuneration of the teachers consists of a present of eggs and a bottle of spirits and is due at the beginning of the first lesson. The Cham, however, are not apt pupils, being incorrigibly lazy and it is quite a triumph if a woman knows the elements of housekeeping. When we tried to make laundresses of some of the women in our escort we discovered the depths of their ignorance and stupidity. The articles we sent to be washed came back as dirty as when they went, for the sole idea of washing was to beat the object a certain number of times against a stone. The number of times was a fixed quantity beyond which the laundress refused to go, even if the dirt remained unshaken!

But if the domestic education of the women is neglected what shall be said of their moral education which is practically non-existent? Here, as elsewhere in the Far East, a woman is regarded as requiring nothing more than a knowledge of etiquette and her instruction is complete when she can recite by heart all the rules which govern social intercourse and constitute good manners. Some of these rules seem nothing less than comic to the European.

For example, to laugh in public as a sign of pleasure is strictly forbidden, but it is the height of good form to yawn when bored. When the flax is being gathered in it is proper to pretend to be drunk, for the plant is thereby encouraged to preserve its inebriating qualities.

When a domestic utensil, such as a cooking-pot, becomes broken with use the good housewife will do nothing so ill-advised as to throw it away. Good breeding as well as respect, which is due to inanimate objects just as much as to living persons, exact that the faithful servant shall be hung on the piles on which the house stands and in due time be graciously abandoned to a sudden flood. Hence the enormous number of utensils of all descriptions which are to be seen in the rivers of Cambodia and other countries inhabited by the Cham.

Lessons in etiquette, which are obligatory on both boys and girls, are varied most pleasantly with games of all kinds. Of these perhaps the most popular are the foot races which are organized for children of all ages. The competitors are handicapped according to their years and intense is the excitement when the signal is given to start. The prizes awarded to the winners are generally bananas or mangoes, whichever is in season. When the sugar cane is ripe the children are very fond of a game which is played in this wise.

A stick of sugar cane is put on the ground. The player takes a knife and his task is to cut the stalk into five pieces in three strokes. If he is a skilled performer he makes the second cut in such a way that two of the pieces lie close enough together to be slashed through with the final stroke. The rules forbid the player to use his hands to arrange the pieces so that the second stroke requires no little skill.

If the canes cannot be obtained from the paternal field recourse must be had to the shops, and then a contest ensues in which each child tries to avoid being left to pay the bill. To settle this thorny point lots are drawn, for the first comers have a great advantage. The fortunate player on whom the lot falls has the right of selecting the largest stalk from the dealer's stock, taking care that the bottom section is of normal form. He now balances the cane before him, and with one slash of his knife cuts it in two before it has had time to fall. He is entitled to keep the part he has cut off and if he is skilful it will be a large one. The second player now takes the rest of the stick and performs the same operation. The others follow in turn, the various sections are compared and the owner of the shortest piece has the honour of paying for all after which they devour the booty with the solemnity of a public ceremony.

The children pick up a smattering of musical knowledge and never lose an opportunity of performing on their fathers' gongs. Sometimes they play together and occasionally attain the height of a recognizable melody when the instruments are of much the same pitch and the touch of the artist is light. Children of a more serious disposition are initiated into the mysteries of chess, a game which is played all the world over. The Cham chessman is very similar to ours and the board has also sixty-four squares. The castle, however, is replaced by a general, the bishops by canoes, and the pawns by fishes. The object of each player is to put the opposing king in check and the means adopted are virtually the same as in our game.

CHAPTER III
RITES AND SUPERSTITIONS