and every drop of water has to be carried up from the bottom in bamboos by the women. One is not surprised, therefore, at the Lushais being chary of using this precious water for other than cooking purposes, and that they are supposed to be very unclean. But when, on the march, they come to a river or stream, they take the opportunity of having a good wash, and, when we employed them as servants, they took a pride in keeping themselves clean.
Plate XXII. (p. 390) gives a very good idea of a grass-roofed Zal-Buk, or Bachelors' Sleeping-house, a kind of Young Men's Club, where all the young men of the village congregate of an evening, and smoke home-grown, home-cured, evil-smelling tobacco, drink home-brewed zu (rice-beer), gossip, have sing-songs, and generally enjoy themselves. Sometimes they are turned out of the Zal-Buk and it becomes the "guest-house," and is used to accommodate distinguished visitors, such as ourselves when we were on tour. On one such occasion we had to take refuge in a Zal-Buk because I was very ill, and it was inexpedient that I should continue to live in a tent, as I very much preferred doing. However, the particular Zal-Buk was so large that my tent could go inside it, which made it very comfortable for me, and gave me more privacy than I should otherwise have had. But unfortunately on the first night all the animals of the village seemed to assemble underneath the Zal-Buk, which, as shown, is raised high on piles and affords ample accommodation, and, as they never for a moment ceased to rub themselves against the piles and emit weird sounds, the whole structure was subjected to a continuous shaking, something after the nature of a gentle, though prolonged, earthquake. The second evening, at about dusk, a great shouting was heard from the door of the chief's house, and the villagers were summoned to listen to a proclamation. When all were assembled, the herald gave out in stentorian tones the chief's "word," which was to the effect that
