Kitabı oku: «The Kacháris», sayfa 6

There was once a Bráhmin who had a servant. And one day when they were going to the house of the Bráhmin’s mother-in-law, the Bráhmin gave his servant a bunch of plantains and other things to carry, and said to him, “Now, mind you don’t eat those plantains, for I can see just as well behind as I can in front.” And, so saying, he marched ahead. And presently the servant, getting hungry plucked one of the plantains from the bunch, and, holding it out to his master’s back, ate it. And this he did again and again till all the plantains were gone. And when the Bráhmin presently asked what had become of the load, the servant said, “You told me you could see behind as well as in front. So I showed you each plantain before I ate it. And you never said anything.”

So the Bráhmin went his way speechless. Presently they stopped to cook their midday meal, and they had got with them a few khawai fish. But the Bráhmin gave only one to his servant, and kept the rest himself. And when he was about to eat, the servant asked innocently “Oh! Bráhmin, do khawai fish swim about singly or in shoals?” To which the Bráhmin said, “Why, in shoals, of course.” So the servant said, “Then my fish had better go with yours.” And, so saying, he threw his fish on the Bráhmin’s mess, which was defiled. So the Bráhmin got no dinner, and the servant ate the whole.

Pháre binifrai thángui thángui simli bifáng dulùse nunánai, Bámun-kho sungnaise “Bámun gohain, be nunai bongfáng-frá má bongfáng?” Bámuná khithánaise “sirmolu.” Sákhorá bungnaise: “Sirmolu nunggá. Bikho hirmolu hanu.” Pháre obásu phong-bá phong-bá sonu lági khoráng khálai-naise. Pháre gurkhiá dulùse lugù mannánai, bisurkho sung-bá, “himulù” hannánai bisur bungnaise. Obánu sungá-hoá-lábá Bámunkho phongbá, sonaise.

A little later they came across a number of simul trees. Seeing them, the servant asked his master, “And what do they call these trees, master?” And the Bráhmin (being an educated man) said, “These are sirmolu.” But the servant said, “Not so, not so. These are himulu,” and offered to bet five blows that it was so. And, meeting some cowherd boys, he asked them what the trees were. And when they said “himulu,” he gave the Bráhmin five blows without further question.

Áru bebaidi thángui thángui burmá dulùse nunánai sákhorá Bámunkho sungnaise “Bámun gohain, boi gángsu zábai thánai zanthu-fur má, bungo?” Bámuná khithánaise “Bifur ság.” Sákhorá bungnaise “Nunggá, bifur ságoli.” Beaubu bibaidinu Bámuná phongbá so-zá-naise. Áru binifrai thángnánai dáu-ba dulùse nunánai sungnaise. “Bámun gohain, befur má dáu?” Bámuná bungnaise “Nang bifurkho mithiá? Bifurkho bog hanu.” Bi bungnaise “Má bog hanu? Nunggá. Bikho boguli hanu.” Beaubu bebaidinu Bámuná phongbá sozá naise. Unau bi manse slok hannaise:

Next they met a drove of goats. “And what may these be, Bráhmin, these animals that are grazing?” And the Bráhmin said, “These be called chág.” But the servant cried, “Not so, not so. These are chágali.” And the result, as before, was that the Bráhmin was worsted and got five blows. And next they came across a flock of paddy-birds, which the Bráhmin called “Bog,” but the servant “Boguli.” And again he was worsted and got his five blows. On which he consoled himself by reciting an Assamese saying, to the effect that it is ill arguing with a fool:

“Ság sirmolu bog ba-káran

Tini pánch panra kil sudá akáran.”

“Ság sirmolu bog ba-káran

Tini pánch panra kil sudá akáran.”

Phá binifrai thángnánai bihaibikhunzu ni nå kháthi manbá, sákhorkho thin-hot-gru-nánai khithanaise “Nang thángnánai mámár khàm songnu thin; manáthu ángha mikhàm ukhui-su-dang.” Pháre bibaidi-nù bi thángnánai, Bámun-ni bikhunzunu hángsu buthàtnánai sobai kháre zang mikhàm songnánai dinnu khithánaise, áru bungnaise, “Nangni nángzá-madùiá megongau gabàp nunggábá zaiá.” Obásu bi songnánai dinnaise. Pháre unau bizámádùiá so-fai-bánù, mamárui khàm khutnánai hunaise. Bizámádùiá ukhui-su-naï-khai, khàm megong mungbo básiá-lábá zánu gnáng zánaise.

And when they were now come near the Bráhmin’s mother-in-law’s house, and the Bráhmin was become very hungry, he sent his servant on ahead to beg them to get supper ready. So the servant went on ahead and bade the Bráhmin’s mother-in-law cook a duck and put in lots of plantain ashes, which the Kacháris use for salt, well knowing that his master disliked its acrid taste. So the duck was cooked with plenty of alkali.

And when the Bráhmin arrived, his meal was set before him, and he was so hungry that he had to eat it whether he liked its savour or no.

Abásu unau bebaidinu baidi baidi lázi mannai zánaikhai, Bámuná bidánulági sitti gangse lit-nánai sákhorni ákhai-au hunánai nå-i-au hotnaise. Lámá sáse thángbá, beaunu litnu-gráng sáse mànsui lugù man-nànai, binu sitti khithinaise. “Beau má litdang, ángnu khithá.” Obásu, mànsuiá sitti-kho nainánai, “Nangkho dànnu láge Bámun ni bidá-kho thindang” erui bungbá, bi sitti-kho phisinánai bungnaise “Áfá nang ángnu gubun sitti gángse litnánai hù.” Áru be sittiau erehai lit, “ádá, nangni fisáhingrzauzang be sákhorá man-hui-bá-nù hábá khàmnánai hù. Áng benifrai thángnánai bisur-ni hábá nunu nánggá” Bebaidinu be sittikho langnánai Bámun-ni bidánu hùnaise. Khintu bi sittikho nunánai, monau dukhu man-su-naise. Theobu, bigùi-ni khoráng gárnu háekhai, fisázù zang mámár hábá khàmnánai hunángnaise.

And so in various ways the Bráhmin was put to shame by his servant. So he wrote a long letter to his brother, and putting it in his servant’s hand, bade him deliver it. But he went a little way, until he met a man who could read and write, and he bade him tell him what was written in the letter. And the man read him the letter, which was to the effect that the brother was to kill the servant. On this, the servant tore up the letter and bade his friend write another one, saying: “Dear brother, on receipt of this letter marry my servant to my niece without delay. I shall not be able to come to the wedding.”

Taking this letter, the servant went to his master’s brother, who was much vexed, but dared not disobey. Accordingly, though reluctantly, he married the servant to his daughter.

Pháre sànse thánánai bi fainanai bidá-kho sungbá, gásenu khoráng khnánai, bi sákhor kho dánnùlági sri sri upai khàmnaise. Be upaikho sákhorni hingzauá mithinánai, bekho onnánai binu khithánaise. Khithábá, hingzau zang horau uduniau mosofisá máse khá-khrop-nánai futhunánai dinnaise. Pháre Bámuná fisázu zang udubai thádang mon khàmnánai, sri sri thangnánai mosofisákho dànnaise. Sàn-so-ba mosáfisákho dánfnáng-nai nunánai mámárùi bizámádui sákhor-kho gárhùinù lági thinnaise. Khintu bizámáduiá bisurni bariau lángnanai, lànzai dihonnánai, fopnánai dinnaise. Unau Bámuná mosá buthàtnai-ni nungge sri sri uddhar zánu lági gámini mànsuifurkho lingnánai phozu hudangman. Pháre mánsuifur zánu zobá, sákhorá báriau thángnanai moso lànzai-kho bunanai bungnaise “Bámuná mosobù buthárá-khùi phozù-bù huá khùi, hùi-sù.” Bebaidi bungbai-thábá, phozuni mànsuifrá khnánánai, phozu zaiákhùise. Bebaidinù bisùr ud dhár manákhuise. Zapbai.

And, when the master came to see if his servant had been disposed of, and heard what had happened, he set about to kill him. But his niece got to know of the matter and told her husband, who got a calf, and, binding it hand and foot, put it by her in her bed. And in the night the Bráhmin came, and thinking the calf was his niece’s husband sleeping by her side, killed it. And when he found out his mistake in the morning, and learned that he was guilty of cow-killing, he bade his niece’s husband go and bury the calf in all haste. And the servant dragged the calf into the garden and buried it with its tail sticking out of the ground. Meanwhile, the Bráhmin set to work to get himself purged of the offence of cow-killing, and summoned the villagers to a feast without telling them why. And when they were all seated, the servant ran out into the garden and hauling at the calf’s tail, called out, “The Bráhmin didn’t kill a cow, Oh, no. And that isn’t why he gives a feast, Oh, no.” So the feast broke up, and the Bráhmin was not absolved. And that’s all.

⁷ Assamese.

IV

Kachári Theory of Thunder and Lightning⁴⁰

Aglaiau sáse rázá dangman, áru bihá hoásá sáse, hingzhausá sáse, dangman. Hoasáni nau Ráoná, hingzhausáni náu Ráoni, dangman. Láse láse bisur gaded záabá Ráonaiá gagai binánaukhonu hábá khàmnu namainai. Sànse Ráonaiá runùiau tháhoinai. Amphára bini bifaiá ikham zánu namaibá manákhuise, mánathu bi runuiau thánákho bifaiá mithiákhauman. Amphá bini sáse bandiá runuiau nunánoi rázáni sigángau khithánaisui; abánu razaiá thangnánoi sanghoinaisui, balui “Áfá, nangnu má nánggo? Háthi nánggobá, háthi hùgan; gorai nánggobá, gorai hùgan; theobo nang manau dukhu dá khàm,” hannanoi khithánaisui. Abá Ráonaiá hannaisui, “Ángnu mungbo nánga; nang sumai lábasu áng khithágan.” Ámphá bifaiá mungbo uphai manikhai sumai lánánoi khithánaisui, “Nangnu zikhonu nańggo, bikhonu hùgan.” Hanbá Raonaiá bungnaisùi, “Ángnu Ráonikho hábá khàmnánoi hù; abásu áng mikhàm dùi lánggan.” Abá bifaiá bibaidi khoráng khnánánoi manau zabrá-sin dukhu mannaisui. Ampháre bifaiá guninánoi sumai lánai-khai hába khlàmnánoi hùnù zathan khlàmnaisui; khintu be khorángákha Ráonini sigángau khithánu bádá hùnai; binikhai raubo khithai-a-khuise. Amphá Raoniá mairang sunù thángbá dùigá-thánau sáse buruiá Ráoniniau sangnaisùi, balùi, “Nangsurhá má záadang?” Abá Ráoniá khithánaisui, “Zangfrá ádáhá hábá záagan.” Áru buruiá hannaisui, “Maunithu hingzhausá zang hábá záanu?” Ráoniá bungnaisùi, “Áng khithánu haiá.” Abánu buruiá hannaisùi, balùi, “Ai, nang zangsù hábá záanunù.” Áru Ráoniá hannaisùi, “Ai, be khoráng thik ná?” hannánoi sangbá, buruiá sumai lánaisùi. Abá Ráoniá akhrángsau birláng-naisùi, áru Ráunikho birlangnai nunánoi Ráonaiábo guzarinánoi hasu-lángnaisui. Bikhonu mànsuifrá ákhá khrumniákhonu “Ráoná guzaridang” hannánoi bungù; áru Ráoni khàtlángnánai thap naifinbá bini makhángá at baidi nuiù, bikhonu akhá mablíbnai hanù; Båråfrá eroi bhábiù.

There was once a king who had one son and one daughter. The son’s name was Ráoná and the daughter’s Ráoni. As they gradually grew up together, Ráoná wished to marry his sister. One day Ráoná remained alone in an outhouse unknown to his father; and when the latter wished his son to come to dinner, the young man could not be found. However, a servant saw the youth in the outhouse and told the king, who going to the boy asked him what was the matter. “If,” said the king, “you want an elephant, I will give you an elephant; if you want a horse, I will give you a horse; but do not abandon yourself to sorrow in this way.” And then Ráoná replied, “I am in no special want of anything, but if you give me a promise on oath, I will tell you what is the matter.” Thereupon, the king, seeing that there was no help for it, took an oath saying, “Whatever you want, I will give it to you.” And then Ráoná said, “Give me permission to marry Ráoni, and then I will eat my food.” On hearing this the king was sorely troubled in his mind; but remembering the terms of his oath, he took steps to bring about the marriage, at the same time forbidding anyone to mention the matter to Ráoni, who, therefore, heard nothing about the proposed marriage with herself. But one day Ráoni went to the village stream to clean the rice for the daily meals, when an old woman met her and inquired, “What is going on in the palace to-day?” And Ráoni replied, “The son of the house is to be married to-day.” And when the old lady asked further “But to whom is he to be married?” Ráoni replied, “Mother, I cannot say.” And then said the old dame, “Ráoni, it is you that he is going to marry.” And when Ráoni inquired, “Mother, can this be true?” the old woman took an oath to confirm what she had said. And then Ráoni at once flew right away up into the sky, and when Ráoná saw Ráoni thus flying away, he shouted after her, doing his utmost to catch her. It is these loud shouts and threats of Ráoná that men call “thunder”; and when Ráoni occasionally looks back to see if her pursuer is gaining upon her, she in so doing reveals for an instant the brightness and beauty of her face, glowing like fire; and it is this bright, dazzling beauty of her countenance that men call “lightning.”

Hence during a thunder storm may sometimes be heard the words “Ráonikho Ráonaiá hasùdang,” i. e. “Ráoná is chasing Ráoni.”

It is not impossible that the foregoing story may be a Kachári version, greatly altered, of a well-known episode told at length in the Rámáyana, i. e. the abduction of Sitá by Rávana the demon-king of Ceylon. The name Rávana in a slightly altered form (Ráoná) is not unknown among the Kacháris of this district (Darrang). About four or five miles south-west of the Událguri Tháná there are still existing the remains of a very fine earthwork road, known to this day as “Rowana’s embankment” (Rávanagarh), which gives its name to the Mauzá in which it is situated. The construction of this earthwork must have involved a large outlay of labour, but the tradition about it is that it was thrown up in a single night by Rávana and his followers, the Rákhshases, Asurs, &c.

N.B. – Among the Kacháris of the North Kachár Hills, the mode of accounting for thunder and lightning is very different from that given above, though towards the end of the account given by the late Mr. Soppitt⁴¹ certain statements are made which would serve to show that the two theories have something in common.

SECTION VI.
Outline Grammar, Etc

The mother tongue of the Bårå race at least as spoken in this (Darrang) district undoubtedly belongs to the “Agglutinative” as distinct from the Inflexional family of languages. Here and there, perhaps, certain slight traces of inflexion may be found, but even these are doubtful and in any case very rare, indeed where they exist at all it may perhaps be assumed that they have been adopted with some obvious modifications from the speech of their Assamese and Bengali neighbours.

In the following pages only a very slight outline sketch of Kachári Grammar is attempted, as the writer has already dealt with the subject at some length over twenty years ago,⁴² and most of the conclusions then arrived at still hold good, so far as the Kacháris of Darrang are concerned. But it is hoped that what little is given here may be of service to those who may have occasion to learn and make use of this language in after years. No attempt is made to draw any clear or well defined line between Accidence and Syntax, for these two closely allied branches of the subject may be best studied together by the use of certain illustrative sentences which to the attentive reader will give an insight into the structure of the language, whilst at the same time doing something to supply him with a useful vocabulary of words and phrases.

I. Nouns

1. Gender

A. Nouns denoting inanimate objects have no formal distinction of gender as Oá, a bamboo, mai rice (paddy).

B. In the case of animate objects, the gender of the noun is indicated by a separate qualifying word, placed usually after the noun, e. g.

(a) Hóa, man (male); Hingzhau, woman (female) used only of human beings.

(b) “Zălá,” zŏ’ used of birds, e. g. Dau zalá, a cock; dau zŏ, a hen.

2. Number

Plurality (there is no dual) is indicated by adding fŭr, frá, or far, to the singular as masá, a tiger.

masá-fŭr (-frá or – far), tigers.

3. Case

The case endings, which hold good of nouns, pronouns, and adjective are given below: —

(a) The possessive case has two signs, the former (ni) being by far the more commonly used.

(b) The ablative case ending is a compound one, as its proper sign (frai) is preceded by that of the genitive, ni. The same remark holds good sometimes with the locative case.

II. Adjectives

1. Many adjectives begin with the letter g, to which a very short vowel is attached, so short indeed that in rapid speaking the vowel of the first syllable may not be heard at all, whilst in composition this first syllable is sometimes omitted altogether, as

“mánsoia

man

gahàm

good

ná?”

(is he?)

Hám-go

Good (he) is

2. In composition the adjective usually, though not invariably, follows the noun it qualifies, as

Dŏima ga-súm

(The) water black = (kálá páni)

3. Comparison

This is effected by appending the syllable “sari” or “khri” (= than) to the word with which comparison is made, this word being always in the dative case. The superlative degree is denoted much in the same way, the noun being preceded by some word signifying “all,” thus

(a) Bi áng-nŏ-khri gă-zau – he (is) taller than I (comparative).

(b) Bi bŏi-nă-sári ga-zaú-sin – he is the tallest of all (superlative).

In making these comparisons the first syllable (ga) of the adjective is often omitted: as

nang

you

áng-nŏ-khri

I than

zaú

tall

(ga-zau)

(are)

i. e. zau = (ga) zau, tall

4. Numeral Adjectives

The numerical system in this District is very defective, only seven digits, i. e. sè, nè, thàm, brè (brŏi), bâ, rå (då), sni (sĭni), being generally used, though the remaining three, skhó, zàt, zi (zu), are occasionally recognised. There is also a useful collective word za-khai = four, which when followed by two numerals is to be multiplied by the former whilst the latter is to be added to the product so obtained; thus

zakhai-thàm sà thàm,

Four × three + three = fifteen (men).

Burma zakhai-brè má-nè,

Goats four × four + two = 18 goats.

Before the second numeral are always inserted certain monosyllables, which classify the noun referred to, e. g. as above, sá (human beings) and má (irrational animals). This classifying syllable always indicates the point at which the multiplication ends and the addition begins.

III. Pronouns

(a) The personal pronouns which undergo no change of form to indicate gender are: —

The possessive pronoun is expressed simply by putting the personal pronoun in the possessive case, as —

Bé áng ni nŏ, this (is) my house. This me of house (is).

To nouns expressing close family relationship, pronominal prefixes of possession are commonly added, e. g.—

² A very similar construction in Assamese may be compared with this, viz:

– [Ed.]

Interrogative pronouns in common use are —

1. Sŭr (sar) – who?

2. Má – what? Plural má-fŭr.

3. Bå-bê – which (of two or more)?

The demonstrative pronouns are: —

1. Bé – this (near).

2. Bŏi – that (far).

3. Bí – that (of remote distance).

Properly speaking, there are no relative pronouns, though a form zi, borrowed from Assamese, is sometimes heard. The place of the relative pronoun is usually supplied by a participle, e. g.—

Mi-á nu-nai masá thoi-bai

yesterday seen tiger died has

IV. Verbs

1. The verb substantive is dang-a, is, dang-man, was, zá-gan, will be; this last being apparently formed from the root, zá-nŏ, to become. The negative forms are

(1) gŏi-á (emphatic gŏi-li-á) and (2) núng-á, it is not.

A very useful word is náng-go (Assamese lá-ge), to express necessity, the negative form is náng-á, needless, in emphasis, náng-li-á, altogether needless. This root náng is often appended to nouns to form adjectives, as

Be budhi-gnáng (or náng)

He is possessed of sense

2. Conjugation

In Kachári the verb undergoes no change to express number or person, which are indicated by the subject alone. But a slight trace of inflexion (euphonic) is perhaps found in the fact that when a verbal root ends in a vowel and the termination begins with one, a disagreeable hiatus is avoided by inserting the letter i between the two, thus: —

Tháng-ă – I go.

Nu-i-ŏ – I see.

Taking the verb, Bu-nŏ, to beat, as an illustration, the various tenses, moods, &c., of the Kachári verb may be thus indicated: —

Present indefinite, Ángbú-i-u – I beat.

Present definite, bú-dang – I am beating.

Imperfect, Áng bú-dang-man – I was beating.

Past, bú-bai – I beat (did).

Potential, Áng bú-nŏ há-gô – I may (or can) beat.

Imperative, 1. Bú – beat thou. 2. Bú-tháng – let him beat.

Participial forms: —

Bú-ni – beating.

Bú-na-nŏi – having beaten.

Bú-nai – beaten.

Bú-ŏi – while (on) beating.

Agent: —

Bu-grá.

Bu-nai-á – a beat-er.

3. The Passive voice is not very frequently used. Its tenses, &c., are expressed by conjugating the verb zá-nŏ, to be, with the past participle of the verb, e. g.—

Ang bú-nai zá-gan – I beaten be-shall.

4. The causal verb is formed in two ways. The more idiomatic method is to prefix the letter f (with any euphonic vowel) to the principal verb, e. g.—

In the above it will be observed that the causal force lies in the letter f, its vowel (always a very short one) being drawn by attraction (euphonic) from that of the principal verb.

A second way of expressing causation is to combine the verb hŏ-nŏ, to give, with the infinitive mood of the principal verb, e. g.—

5. The distinctive vowel of the negative verb is á, which in some cases gives place to i or e, probably for reasons of euphony. Its chief forms of tense and mood, &c., may be shown thus: —

Present, Bú-á – (I) am not beating.

Imperfect, Bú-á-khŏi-man.

Future, Bú-á.

Potential, Bú-nŏ hai-á

Participial forms: —

Present, Bú-i – not beating

Past, Bú-á-lábá – not having beaten, without beating

Bú-e – not beaten.

V. Indeclinable words (avyāya)

Very little need be said on this part of the subject, because the work of qualifying words (adverbs, &c.,) is very commonly done by means of infixes following the verbal stem which is in many cases, though not in all, monosyllabic. Thus the root hàm (be) will, becomes (1) an adjective by prefixing ga, ga hàm, good; and (2) an adverb, by affixing ŏi; gahàm-ŏi in a good manner. So, hàm-á – bad; hàm-á-ŏi – bad-ly. Further the adjective thus formed may be duly conjugated as a verb by combining it with the different tenses, &c., of the substantive verb, thus: —

In the same way the passive participle in nai can be (1) declined as a noun, or (2) used as an adjective, or (3) take the place of a relative pronoun; e. g.—

VI. Syntax

The great and characteristic feature of the Syntax of the language is the remarkable way in which verbal roots, mostly monosyllabic, are combined together to form a very large and useful class of compound verbs. In this way the use of conjunctions &c. is very largely avoided, and the language becomes possessed of a vivid force and picturesqueness often wanting in more cultivated tongues. These compound verbs may perhaps be roughly classified under two groups, e. g.—

I. – Those in which each verbal root has a distinct meaning and may be used separately; —

II. – Those in which one or more of the verbal roots is never used separately but in combination only. As illustrations of class I. the following may be mentioned: —

The compound verbs of Class II. are very numerous and in frequent use. A few illustrations only can be given here, which may serve to show that the second and subsequent members of the agglutinative verb, while they have no independent existence, yet serve to enrich and expand the meaning of the primitive root in a very remarkable way.

In not a few cases several, sometimes as many as five or six, of these infixes are combined with the original verbal stem, each one materially contributing to enlarge and enrich its meaning. A few illustrations are here supplied.

From what little has been here stated it would seem to be fairly obvious that the language in its original form is strictly an agglutinative one. But a gradual process of deglutinisation has for some time been going on, no doubt originating through intercourse with neighbours speaking languages of quite another type, e. g. Assamese, Bengali, &c. Most Kacháris (Bårå) in this district are quite familiar with Assamese; indeed, it is very rarely that the writer has met with men who did not know this form of Aryan speech. Now a Kachári in the habit of speaking Assamese will, even when using his own mother tongue, to which he is strongly attached, not infrequently resort to a partially inflected form of expression instead of restricting himself to the use of infixes, &c. This gradual change in the language is especially brought out in the usage of the participial forms of the verb. It has been shown above, e. g. that the past participle (passive) can be declined like a noun. Again, in expressing a simple sentence like the following: —

I ran and caught and brought the horse an Assamese speaking Kachári would probably make use of the active participle in ná-nŏi; whilst his more primitive brother, who might be less familiar with Assamese, would confine himself to the more idiomatic use of infixes. Thus the sentence given above might be expressed in two ways:

It would seem to be not improbable that the language may gradually lose its agglutinative character, and approximate to the inflected type, though the process most likely will be but a slow one, owing to the very clannish temperament of the people which makes them cling strongly to anything they regard as their very own, e. g. their language (cf., a somewhat similar state of things in Wales and the Scottish Highlands). But in its present stage the language is one of no small interest to the student of comparative philology, because it is an apt illustration of a form of speech which, once strictly agglutinative, is now in process of learning inflexion through the pressure of contact with the speakers of Aryan tongues.⁴³