While roofing a house, one man would weave the thatch tightly with a sharp needle from atop while another would stand below to draw the rope and signal with a single ‘Hmm’. At once the one on top would pull out his needle and pierce it again four inches away. The one inside would tug it, signal once more so the needle could be pulled back and the one on top would tie both the ends tightly. This was one way to thatch a roof so that it didn’t sag and stayed strong.

This was fine for the roof of a house, but for a haystack the farmers used bark slates, and they didn’t rope it for it wasn’t an easy job.

And the poor ignorant souls from Tiravasi had no idea about this. They stood around puzzled as to how the one who held the thread inside could have come out.

The people of Gopalla of course laughed remembering another man who had asked about a vadai that had gone bad. ‘Well, he made the vadai and a hole in it. But how did he add these threads?’

When the horses entered the streets, dogs barked and children ran behind them screaming with joy. Women and elders gathered to watch them. Some even dropped their chores to rush out.

The horsemen passed through the narrow village streets and lanes and stopped at the gates of the Kottaiyar house.

31

AT THE KOTTAIYAR HOUSE THE cows were coming out of their shed. So the horsemen had to wait on their steeds.

Rows and rows of cows emerged, cows of native breed, in various colours, with weirdly twisted horns, bellowing loudly and jingling the bells around their necks.

‘Looks like there are plenty of cows here,’ commented the White official.

‘Yes, sir. Land and cattle are the primary wealth of this community. And the Kottaiyars, the people we are to meet now, are the wealthiest in this village.’

As the herd seemed to be panicked by the horses, the men moved back from the gate and stood aside.

Once the cows exited and the horsemen were about to enter, a herd of buffaloes started exiting. The men pulled back hastily, grinning at each other.

‘How much milk do you think they yield?’

‘Honestly sir, one never measures the milk. It is inauspicious to do so. They only store the milk in vessels and pots. You could say each cow is milked twice a day on an average.’

Even as the native official wondered how to explain this in modern mathematical calculations, two of the buffaloes locked horns and began to fight. Buffaloes don’t fight the way rams do. They don’t run backwards, then race towards each other and ram. Instead they stand at a spot and lock horns, each trying to overthrow the other. The one that loses turns tail and runs, uncaring about what it is heading into, rampaging into any object in front of it. So people generally stand out of their path and watch. The horsemen too stayed to one side and watched.