Note 52 — M (continued 3)

Concerning the Mannāns, Mr. O. H. Bensley writes as follows.52 “I enjoy many pleasant reminiscences of my intercourse with these people. Their cheery and sociable disposition, and enjoyment of camp life, make it quite a pleasure to be thrown into contact with them. Short, sturdy, and hairless, the Mannāns have all the appearances of an ‘aboriginal‘ race. The Mannān country extends southward from the limit occupied by the Muduvans on the Cardamom Hills to a point south of the territory now submerged by the Periyār works.53 They have, moreover, to keep to the east of the Periyār river. Smallpox ravages their villages, and fever lives in the air they breathe. Within the present generation, three of their settlements were at the point of extinction, but were recruited from other more fortunate bands. Very few attain to old age, but there were until lately three old patriarchs among them, who were the headmen of three of the most important sections of the tribe. The Muduvans and Mannāns pursue the same destructive method of cultivation, but, as the latter are much fewer in numbers, their depredations are not so serious. None of the tribes east of the Periyār pay any tax to the Government, but are expected, in return for their holdings, to perform certain services in the way of building huts and clearing paths, for which they receive fixed payment. They have also to collect forest produce, and for this, too, they obtain fixed rates, so that their treatment by the Government is in reality of the most liberal kind. Mannāns do not always look at things in quite the light one would expect. For example, the heir to an English Earldom, after a pleasant shooting trip in Travancore, bestowed upon a Mannān who had been with him a handsome knife as a memento. Next day, the knife was seen in the possession of a cooly on a coffee estate, and it transpired that the Mannān had sold it to him for three rupees, instead of keeping it as an heirloom. A remarkable trait in the character of the Mannāns is the readiness with which they fraternise with Europeans. Most of the other tribes approach with reluctance, which requires considerable diplomacy to overcome. Not so the Mannān. He willingly initiates a tyro and a stranger into the mysteries of the chase. Though their language is Tamil, and the only communication they hold with the low country is on the Madura side, they have this custom in common with the Malayālis, that the chieftainship of their villages goes to the nephew, and not to the son. One does not expect to find heroic actions among these simple people. But how else could one describe the following incident? A Mannān, walking with his son, a lad about twelve years old, came suddenly upon a rogue elephant. His first act was to place his son in a position of safety by lifting him up till he could reach the branch of a tree, and only then he began to think of himself. But it was too late. The elephant charged down upon him, and in a few seconds he was a shapeless mass.”