It is "thianglo" to find, in the proposed jhum, a gibbon's skull stuck on a tree stump. If in burning the jhum the flames make a peculiar huk-huk sound; if the khatchhat (nightjar) calls by day, the jhum had better be abandoned. Should the jhum cutter after his first day's work dream of water or rice all will be well, but should he dream of a mithan chasing him or tigers springing on him, he must not continue cutting the jhum, or he will certainly get very ill and probably will die. If on the site of the proposed jhum a "thing-lu-bul" is found, death will certainly claim the cultivator should he persist in jhuming anywhere near the unlucky object, which is a kind of abortive tree growth without boughs or shoots, but covered with bulbous excrescences, which sometimes remotely resemble the human form, and if cut exude a blood-red juice. Should a tree have a pendant protuberance, called "thingzang," the jungle near must not be cut. The rubbing together of two tree boughs is thought to denote the presence of a Huai, who must be appeased by the sacrifice of a cock and hen, the sherh being hung under the jhum house with some chips of the tree. Brackish springs, known as "sa-khi-shi" (barking deer springs), are supposed to be the abodes of Huai, who are generally satisfied with the sacrifice of a fowl, the sherh being hung in a basket over the spring, but if the Huai be greedy the jhumer will fall ill, and then a pig and a dog must be sacrificed in the same manner. The following are some of the superstitions about animals:-- A Lushai named Kela visited Aijal; on the road he met a rat, which stood up in the middle of the road and held its paws to its head. "What a curious rat!" he said. Two days after he reached his home he died. To see such a rat is certainly "thianglo." This incident happened a short time ago; no one had ever heard of such a rat having been seen before, and the unusualness of the occurrence, coupled with the death of Kela, was, to the Lushais, proof positive of its being the cause of his death. The Lushais tell me that sometimes a muskrat will be followed by her whole family, each holding in its mouth the tail of the one in front; this they call "In tir mei kai," and whoever sees it will certainly die. Should a bear on being shot fall on its back, and lie with its legs in the air, the shooter will die. If a bird enters the house prompt measures have to be taken to avert misfortune. The puithiam is called and the bird captured. The house is festooned within with the leaves of a certain tree, and the bird is thrown out of the house by the puithiam, who, muttering various charms, advises it to take itself off and carry its witchcraft with it. I came across, in an old number of the Outlook, a translation of a Chinese poem said to be dated about 100 B.C. in which the following occurs:--"When a wild bird enters a dwelling it portends that the human occupant must go forth." The coincidence is curious.