THE EXPLORATION OF NON-CHRISTIAN TERRITORY
At the time of their discovery the Philippine Islands were inhabited
by a very large number of distinct tribes the civilization of which
was directly comparable with that of the Negritos, the Igorots and
the Moros as they exist to-day. Do not understand me to imply that
the Negritos, the Igorots and the Moros have attained to the same
stage of civilization.
The Negritos belong to a distinct race. They are woolly-headed, nearly
black, and of almost dwarfish stature. They seem to be incapable of
any considerable progress and cannot be civilized. Intellectually
they stand close to the bottom of the human series, being about on
a par with the South African bushmen and the Australian blacks.
The Igorots are of Malayan origin. They are undoubtedly the descendants
of the earlier, if not the earliest, of the Malay invaders of the
Philippines, and up to the time of the American occupation had retained
their primitive characteristics.
The Moros, or Mohammedan Malays of the southern Philippines,
exemplify what may be considered the highest stage of civilization
to which Malays have ever attained unaided. They are the descendants
of the latest Malay invaders and were, at the time of the discovery
of the islands, rapidly prosecuting an effective campaign for their
mohammedanization.
At the outset the Spaniards made extraordinary progress in subduing,
with comparatively little bloodshed, many of these different peoples,
but the Moros at first successfully resisted them, were not brought
under anything approaching control until the day of steam gun-boats
and modern firearms, and were still causing serious trouble when
Spanish sovereignty ended.
As time elapsed the political and military establishments of Spain in
the Philippines seem to have lost much of their virility. At all events
the campaign for the control and advancement of even the non-Mohammedan
wild peoples was never pushed to a successful termination, and there
to-day remains a very extensive territory, amounting to about one-half
of the total land area, which is populated by non-Christian peoples
so far as it is populated at all. Such peoples make up approximately
an eighth of the entire population.
When civil government was established I was put in general
executive control of matters pertaining to the non-Christian
tribes. Incidentally, a word about that rather unsatisfactory term
"non-Christian." It has been found excessively difficult to find
a single word which would satisfactorily designate the peoples,
other than the civilized and Christianized peoples commonly known
as Filipinos, which inhabit the Philippines. They cannot be called
pagan because some of them are Mohammedan, while others seem to have
no form of religious worship. They cannot be called wild, for some
of them are quite as gentle, and as highly civilized, as are their
Christian neighbours. The one characteristic which they have in common
is their refusal to accept the Christian faith, and their adherence to
their ancient religious beliefs, or their lack of such beliefs as the
case may be. I am therefore forced to employ the term "non-Christian"
in designating them, although I fully recognize its awkwardness.
While serving with the First Philippine Commission I was charged
with the duty of writing up the non-Christian tribes for its report,
and tried to exhaust all available sources of information. The result
of my investigations was most unsatisfactory to me. I could neither
find out how many wild tribes there were, nor could I learn with any
degree of accuracy the territory which the known tribes occupied,
much less obtain accurate information relative to their physical
characteristics, their customs or their beliefs.
The most satisfactory source of information was the work of
Blumentritt, an Austrian ethnological writer; but Blumentritt had never
set foot in the Philippines, and I suspected at the outset what later
proved to be the case, that his statements were very inaccurate. He
recognized more than eighty tribes of which thirty-six were said by
him to be found in northern Luzón.
As it was obviously impossible to draft adequate legislation for
the control and civilization of numerous savage or barbarous peoples
without reliable data on which to base it, and as such data were not
available, I had to get them for myself, and undertook a series of
explorations, carried out during the dry seasons so far as possible,
in order to gather my information on the ground.
I first visited Benguet in July and August, 1900.
On my second northern trip I traversed the province of Benguet from
south to north, arrived at Cervantes in Lepanto, and was about to
leave for the territory of the Bontoc head-hunters when I received
a telegraphic summons to return to Manila for the inauguration of
Governor Taft on July 4, 1901.
The following year such time as could be spared from my duties at
Manila was necessarily devoted to the search for a suitable island
for the site of a proposed leper colony; but in 1903 I was able to
make a somewhat extended exploring trip, traversing the country of
the Tingians in Abra, passing through the mountains which separate
that province from Lepanto, visiting the numerous settlements of the
Lepanto Igorots and continuing my journey to Cayan, Bagnin, Sagada
and Bontoc; and thence through various settlements of the Bontoc
Igorots to Banaue in the territory of the Ifugaos.
The latter portion of the trip was not unattended with excitement. A
few weeks before a fairly strong constabulary detachment, armed with
carbines, had been driven to the top of a conical hill in the Ifugao
country and besieged there until a runner made his way out at night
and brought assistance. We felt that there was some uncertainty as
to the reception which would be accorded us. The Bontoc Igorots who
accompanied us did not feel that there was any uncertainty whatever as
to what awaited them, but were more than anxious to go along with us,
as they were spoiling for a fight with their ancient enemies.
We had to use them for carriers to transport our baggage, and each
carrier insisted on having an armed companion to lug his lance and
shield. As a precautionary measure we took with us twenty-five Bontoc
Igorot constabulary soldiers armed with carbines, while each of the
five American members of the party carried a heavy six-shooter. We
also had with us a dog which was supposed to be especially clever at
seasonably discovering ambushes and giving warning.
We were able to use horses more or less as far as the top of the
Polis range, but the trail down its eastern slopes was impracticable
for horses and dangerous for pedestrians.
We shivered for a night on a chilly mountain crest, and the next day
continued our journey to Banaue. When still several miles from the
town, we were met by an old Ifugao chief with two companions. They
marched boldly up to us and inquired whether we were planning to visit
Banaue. On receiving an affirmative reply, the chief asked if our visit
was friendly or hostile. I assured him that we were friends who had
come to get acquainted with the Ifugaos. He said he was glad to hear
this, but that after all it did not really matter. If we wished to be
friends, they were willing to be friendly; but if we wanted to fight,
they would be glad to give us a chance. As he and his companions were
facing a column of eighty-seven armed men I rather admired his courage.
He next presented me with what I now know to be an Ifugao gift of
friendship, to wit, a white rooster and six eggs, after which he
took from one of his companions a bottle filled with bubud, [16]
and having first taken a drink to show me that it was not poisoned,
handed it to me. I did my duty, and we were friends.
We then proceeded on our way to Banaue, being obliged to plunge down
through the rice terraces to the bottom of a deep cañon and then climb
two almost perpendicular earthen walls before reaching the house of
the chief.
I was completely exhausted when I began this climb, and did not feel
comfortable clinging like a tree frog to the face of a clay bank
with nothing to support me except rather shallow holes which could be
better negotiated by Ifugaos, possessed of prehensile toes, than by
men wearing shoes. Seeing my predicament, an Ifugao climbed down from
above, pulled my coat-tails up over my head and hung on to them, while
another came up behind me, put his hands on my heels and carefully
placed my toes in the holes prepared for their reception. Thus aided,
I finally reached the top.
The Ifugaos did not invite us to enter their houses, but allowed us
to camp under them. I was assigned quarters under the house of the
chief. It was tastefully ornamented, at the height of the floor, with
a very striking frieze of alternating human skulls and carabao skulls.
One of my reasons for coming to Banaue at this time was that I had
heard that the people of seven other towns had recently formed a
confederation and attacked it, losing about a hundred and fifty heads
before they were driven off. I therefore thought that there might
be a favourable opportunity to learn something of head-hunting, and
to secure some photographs illustrating customs which I hoped would
become rare in the near future, as indeed they did.
Trouble promptly arose between our Bontoc friends and the Ifugaos. The
Bontocs wanted to purchase food. Some baskets of camotes were brought
and thrown down before them and they were told that they were welcome
to camotes, which were suitable food for Bontoc Igorots and pigs, but
that if they wanted rice they would have to come out and get it. As
twenty-five of them were armed with carbines and all the rest had
lances, shields and head-axes, they were more than anxious to go, but
this we could hardly permit! So we put them in a stockade under guard,
and subsisted them ourselves, a thing which necessarily rendered our
stay brief, as provisions soon ran low.
The Ifugaos of Banaue showed themselves most friendly, but warned
us that a large hostile party was waiting to attack us at Kababuyan,
a short distance down the trail. My mission to the Ifugao country was
to establish kindly relations with the people rather than kill them,
so I did my best to get on good terms with the inhabitants of the
more friendly settlements.
The day before we left, people came in haste from a neighbouring
village to advise us that one of their men had lost his head to
the Ifugaos of Cambúlo, and begged us to join them in a punitive
expedition, assuring us that there were numerous pigs and chickens
at Cambúlo and that our combined forces would have no difficulty
in whipping the people of that place, after which we could have a
most enjoyable time plundering the town, while they would secure
a goodly toll of heads which might be advantageously employed in
further ornamenting their Banaue homes. They were greatly disgusted
when we declined to join them, and said they would do the job anyhow,
as no doubt they did.
First, however, they insisted that we come with them to see that the
story they had told us was true. We soon overtook a procession carrying
a very much beheaded man who was being borne out for burial on his
shield, and were readily granted permission to attend his funeral. It
was an interesting and weird affair. After it was over we hastened
back to Banaue, in constant fear of breaking our necks by falling
down the high, nearly perpendicular, walls of the rice terraces,
on the tops of which we had to walk. Most of us discarded our shoes,
in order to minimize the danger of a fall. One member of the party,
who insisted on wearing his, glissaded down a steep wall and had to
be pulled out of the mud and water at the bottom. Fortunately he was
not injured.
Having succeeded beyond our expectations in establishing friendly
relations with the Ifugaos of Banaue we took our departure, requesting
them to tell their neighbours about us and promising to visit them
again. I returned to Bontoc and made my way to Baguio in Benguet
through the Agno River valley, stopping at numerous settlements of
the Benguet Igorots on the way.
It was not possible for me to make further explorations in the
territory of the Luzón wild people until 1905. In this year I
set out, accompanied by Mr. Samuel E. Kane, an American who spoke
Ilocano exceptionally well, and Colonel Blas Villamor, a former
Insurgent officer, who was more familiar with the territory which
I desired to visit than any one else of whom I could learn. He had
established friendly relations with some of its inhabitants during
the insurrection.
We visited several of the wilder settlements of the Tingians in Abra,
then made a hard climb over Mount Pico de Loro and descended its
eastern slopes to the Tingian village of Balbalasan in the Saltan
River valley. Its people, while not really head-hunters, were often
obliged to defend themselves against their Kalinga neighbours, and
were consequently well armed.
After a brief rest we continued our journey down the Saltan River,
visiting settlements on the high hills in its immediate vicinity.
At Salecsec we had an extended conference with an old chief named
Atumpa, a very acute man of wide experience and sound judgment,
who exercised great influence in the territory through which we had
just passed.
Atumpa, satisfied as to our good intentions, consented to accompany us
into the Kalinga country. A Kalinga chief named Saking, whom Villamor
had known during the insurrection, met us here, and told us of a war
trail into his territory which would greatly shorten our proposed
journey, and make it possible for us to reach in one day the first of
the previously unknown Kalinga settlements of the Mabaca River valley.
Saking, observing that the people in the Saltan valley had cleaned
off their old trails, and in some cases had built new ones for our
convenience, went ahead of us to his own country in order to try to
persuade his people to do some trail work, leaving us to follow him.
Our route lay over the top of a high peak called "Dead Man's Mountain"
because a good many people who tried to climb it never came down,
the true explanation of their failure to appear being no doubt that
they perished from exposure during violent storms.
While ascending this mountain I suffered an attack of partial paralysis
of the legs, due, as I now have reason to believe, to heart strain,
but was able to continue the journey after a brief rest and the use
of stimulants.
A considerable part of our trip down the steep northern slopes of
this mountain was made by utilizing a stream bed in lieu of a trail,
and was in consequence very uncomfortable and somewhat dangerous,
as the chance for broken bones was good. Fortunately, however, no
one was badly hurt.
At the first Kalinga village we found about a hundred and twenty
fighting men armed with shields and head-axes, but Saking and his
brother Bakidan at once came forward to greet us and we did not
suspect mischief.
I had brought with me from Manila a great bag of newly coined
pennies. They looked like gold, and we distributed them among the
warriors, who were greatly delighted and promptly proceeded to place
them in the ends of the huge ear plugs which the men of this tribe are
so fond of wearing. Every one seemed friendly enough at the outset,
but soon a rather disturbing incident occurred.
There were eight chiefs present. I noticed that they suddenly withdrew
a short distance and squatted all together in a circle as if by word
of command. After a brief but very animated discussion they rose
simultaneously, and six of them started down the trail at a run,
while Bakidan and Saking came to us and somewhat anxiously suggested
that it was time to be moving on.
Our way lay through enormous runo grass which closed in over our
heads, so that we were marching in a rather low tunnel through the
vegetation. Bakidan went ahead of us, Saking brought up the rear,
and both were evidently on the alert. Bakidan suggested that we keep
our revolvers handy, which we did.
A short march brought us to Saking's place. Here a still larger body
of fighting men awaited us, and there were no women in evidence except
Saking's wife, who, at the direction of her husband, came forward,
and under his instructions sought to shake hands with us. This was
a new ceremony to the Kalingas, and she gave us her left hand.
Standing in a conspicuous place in front of Saking's house were two
baskets filled with flowers which were wet with blood. We surmised,
rightly, as it later proved, that these baskets had contained
human heads just before our arrival, and that we had interrupted a
head-cañao. [17]
One did not need to be an expert in the moods of wild men to see that
the people of this place were feeling ugly, and after shaking hands
with Saking's wife we promptly marched on.
It was fortunate for us that we did so. We later learned that the
conference of the eight chiefs which aroused our suspicion had been
held to discuss our fate. Six of them were in favor of killing us
immediately, arguing that we were the first white men to penetrate
their country; that they might have to carry our baggage, which would
be a lot of trouble; and that if they allowed us to pass through others
might follow us, whereas if they killed us they would have no further
trouble with strangers. Saking was severely criticized for having
told us the whereabouts of the war trail over which we had come,
and was appointed a committee of one on extermination, with power
to act. In fact, he was directed to take his people and kill us, but
he declined to obey instructions, and the other chiefs had run down
the trail ahead of us in order to gather a sufficient force to wipe
our party out. Saking's people were somewhat loath to act under the
orders of any one else, and our sojourn among them was so brief that
they did not have time definitely to make up their minds to attack us.
We now rapidly completed our journey to Bakidan's place, where we
were to spend the night. Here again a crowd of armed fighting men
awaited us. It was momentarily augmented by the arrival of recruits
from the villages through which we had just passed.
Still unsuspicious of mischief, we turned our revolvers over to
one of our Ilocano companions, a man named Lucio, who had served as
Aguinaldo's mail-carrier during the latter days of the insurrection. We
then walked into the middle of the crowd and sat down on pieces of
our own luggage.
Bakidan immediately brought me a small wicker basket of very dirty
looking bananas. I was nauseated as a result of severe exertion in
climbing Dead Man's Mountain, and the bananas did not look appetizing,
so I thanked him and put the basket on my lap. Instantly I felt
strong tension rising in the crowd. We had brought along chief Atumpa
and several friendly Kalingas from the Saltan River valley. They
seized their head-axes and stepped in behind us, facing out. Bakidan
instantly withdrew into his own house, and from a point where hardly
any one except myself could see him made emphatic gestures, indicating
that I was to eat. Little suspecting the significance of the act,
but desirous of placating his outraged feelings if he felt that
his hospitality had not been appreciated, I hastily peeled a banana
and took a bite. To my amazement, there was an instant and obvious
relaxation of tension in the crowd. The Kalinga warriors loosened
their grip on their head-axes and began to walk about and talk. My
own old men also assumed an air of indifference.
Much puzzled, I made up my mind to look into this matter further,
and later learned that when people from one Kalinga settlement visit
those of another if the latter wish to be friendly it is customary
for them to offer the visitors salt if they have it, bananas if salt
is lacking, and water in the event that neither salt nor bananas
are available. If the visitors wish to accept the friendship thus
proffered, they promptly eat or drink, as the case may be; otherwise
it is understood that they have come looking for trouble.
Bakidan had ceremonially proffered the friendship of himself and his
people, and in my ignorance I had practically declared war on the
whole outfit! When I learned these facts I asked Bakidan why they did
not kill us at once. He said they were afraid. I expressed my surprise
that they should be afraid of three unarmed men, and he explained that
it was very bad etiquette in the Kalinga country for a person with a
head-axe to go behind another, and that we had amazed every one when
we walked into the midst of that gathering of armed men and sat down
with our backs to half of them. They instantly concluded that we had,
concealed about our persons, some new and strange device with which
we could annihilate a crowd, hence they were afraid!
Here, as at Saking's place, we had interrupted a head-cañao. The head
had been smuggled out of sight just before our arrival. The cañao
was now renewed and continued all night, although the head was not
again put in evidence. It is needless to say that we attended. We
witnessed one of the weirdest sights I have ever seen.
The following day was spent in distributing presents to the Kalinga
head-men, in taking photographs, and in getting a little much needed
rest. As evening drew near Bakidan suggested that it was about time
we formally made friends with each other. We were beginning to feel
rather far away from home, and wanted all the friends we could get,
so promptly acceded to his suggestion and repaired to his house at
eight o'clock, the hour he had indicated.
The ceremony proved very simple. His wife fried some boiled rice in
fat--dog fat as we afterward learned, but fortunately we did not know
this at the moment! We all squatted on the floor, Bakidan facing us,
and the dish of fried rice was placed between us. He squeezed a mass
of it into a ball and gave it to me. I ate it, and then rendered
him a similar service. He ate in turn, and we were friends! The same
procedure was followed with each of my companions.
In the midst of the ceremony there came a very unexpected
interruption. A Kalinga woman was standing near me holding a torch. She
had been silent and had seemed timid. I chanced to stretch out my
right hand palm up. To my surprise she uttered an exclamation which
was almost a shriek, seized my wrist and began to point excitedly to
the lines in my palm. The other Kalingas gathered about, evidently
greatly interested. Several of them showed the lines in the palms of
their own hands, and an animated conversation ensued. I asked what
it all meant, and was informed that I was going to become a man of
great influence! I had already modestly introduced myself as the
ruler of all non-Christians, so found this reply unsatisfactory,
but could get no other.
It was fortunate indeed for us that we made friends with Bakidan. On
the following day we continued our journey down the valley. Our
baggage was carried by women, children and a few old and more or less
decrepit warriors who obviously felt deeply insulted at being required
to render such a menial service, and were decidedly resentful toward
Bakidan for having ordered them to do it.
Before we started Bakidan warned us that the Kalingas were queer
people, and in consequence it would be well for us very quietly to go
around certain of their settlements. Others we would visit. Their
inhabitants would be sure to invite us to stay and enjoy their
hospitality. He would second every such invitation. We were to pay
no attention to his words, but were to note whether or not he sat
down. If he did, we might accept the invitation. Otherwise we must
plead an urgent engagement farther down the valley and move on.
Things came out exactly as he had foretold. In several villages we
heard noises decidedly suggestive of head cañaos, and discreetly
circled these places. We declined all invitations seconded by Bakidan
when he did not seat himself, and rested comfortably for a time in
several villages where he did.
Toward noon we walked straight into an ambush laid for us in the runo
grass, discovering it only when Bakidan began to deliver a forceful
oration in which he set forth the fact that he had a right to stroll
down his own valley with a party of friends without being annoyed
by having his fellow tribesmen hide beside the trail and prepare to
throw lances.
Bakidan, who was himself a famous warrior, told these men that
they might kill us if they saw fit to do so, but must kill him
first. Apparently rather ashamed of themselves, they came out on to
the trail and slunk off to their town. Bakidan, greatly disgusted,
suggested that we follow them and lunch in their village just to show
that we were not afraid of them, and we did this.
After lunch I photographed a number of our late opponents, and we then
continued our journey, escorted by a Kalinga chief named Bogauit from
Took-Took. This man had previously descended to the Cagayan valley,
where he had seen white people, and hearing of our advent in the
Kalinga country, and fearing that we might have trouble in getting
carriers for our baggage, had come with his fighting men to help
us out.
The people of his village received us in a most friendly spirit,
and after attending a bit of a cañao organized in our honour, and
doing our best to entertain the crowd with a few simple experiments in
physics, and some sleight-of-hand tricks, we retired, as we supposed,
for a peaceful night's rest.
No such good fortune awaited us. We were aroused in the middle of
the night by a fearful din only to find our hut surrounded by a
great circle of armed men. The people who had attempted to ambush
us earlier in the day had repented of their action in letting us
pass through unharmed, had gathered a strong force of fighting men,
had surrounded our house and were now vociferously demanding to be
allowed to take our heads.
Old Bakidan was apparently fighting a duel with their chief in the
midst of the circle. The two men were dancing around each other with
cat-like steps, occasionally coming to close quarters and clashing
shields, then leaping apart, swinging their head-axes and obviously
watching for an opportunity to strike home. Had either of them gained
any decided advantage of position he would doubtless have used his
head-axe, and this would have started a fight which could have had
but one ending.
Owing to a mistake made when the ammunition for our trip was
purchased, we had just twenty-two revolver cartridges amongst us,
and in the darkness they would have been worth about as much as
so many firecrackers. The roof of the house was dry as tinder; a
blazing brand thrown on it would promptly have forced us into the
open. We should have been met by a flight of head-axes and lances,
and this book would not have been written!
The majority of the crowd were determined to take our heads. The
Took-Took people, greatly outnumbered, were evidently on the fence,
and Bakidan was our only advocate. He still insisted that any one
who wished to kill us must kill him first. His reputation stood
him in good stead, and no one tackled the job. The uproar continued
until nearly morning. Bási, a strong native liquor, was constantly
passed. Indeed, every one but Bakidan had been drunk when we were
first awakened. Finally food was handed around, and when the excited
warriors stopped yelling in order to eat it the liquor had a chance
to work, and most of them went to sleep.
We might probably have then effected our escape for the time being,
but it was utterly impossible for us to get out of the country without
the assistance of the Kalingas, and we decided to see the thing out
right there.
In the morning the crowd was uglier than ever. As we crossed the little
plaza they suddenly closed in on us with the obvious intention of
doing for us, and we thought the end had come. At this critical moment
a diversion was created in our favour by the wholly unexpected arrival
of a letter brought in by a Kalinga runner. It had followed us all the
way from Abra, and contained information about two pieces of baggage
which were missing when we started. Its arrival greatly alarmed the
hostiles, who interrogated me as to whether soldiers were coming. They
had heard of soldiers, but had never seen them. I assured them that
the arrival or non-arrival of soldiers would depend on the way they
treated us, and to our utter amazement, they presently faded away.
The Took-Took people again showed themselves friendly when their
unwelcome visitors had departed, and made us bamboo rafts on which
we descended the river.
Our voyage was a decidedly adventurous one. Our rafts were repeatedly
smashed by the swift current. As we approached each Kalinga village
we were met by a reception committee carrying a bunch of bananas,
followed at a short interval by a crowd of fighting men fully armed,
and were thus given an opportunity to decide whether there should be
peace or war. Needless to say, we voted for peace every time. I ate
bananas until it was difficult to find room for more!
We spent the night at the rancheria of a friendly, white-haired old
chief who had been to Tuguegarao, the capital of Cagayan, and knew
a few words of Spanish. The next day we reached the settlement of
Chief Doget, who had a wonderful house of red narra, a wood which
closely resembles mahogany. It was furnished with beds, chairs and
tables obtained from the Spaniards. Here we were able to rest in peace.
After sleeping the clock twice around, we continued our journey, and
at dusk reached the Filipino town of Tuao, glad enough to get back to
civilization and feeling that the kindly Providence which watches over
fools, drunken men and children had had its eye on us. Without escort,
and armed only with six-shooters rendered almost useless by lack of
ammunition, we had completed the first trip ever made through the
Kalinga country, and had done it without firing a shot and without
losing a man.
This trip marked for me the beginning of friendly relations with the
Kalingas. They have never since been interrupted, and now, when I ride
a fast American horse rapidly over the splendid trails which cross
their country from south to north and from west to east, or meet at
Lubuagan the fighting men who were once so anxious to take my head
but now make a long journey yearly in order to see me, I realize, as
perhaps no one else does, how very materially conditions in Kalinga
have changed.
It had been our intention, after spending a brief period in
recuperation at Tuao, to proceed to Malaueg and continue our journey
through the absolutely unknown country of the Apayaos, but we found
it impossible to secure guides. The leading men of Malaueg, who
came to Tuao to meet us, assured us that there were no trails known
to them, which was untrue, and added that they would not under any
circumstances consider trying to enter the territory of the fierce
Apayao head-hunters.
We accordingly proceeded to Tuguegarao, the capital of Cagayan,
intending to descend the Cagayan River to Aparri, go overland to
Abulúg or Pamplona and there get guides and carriers.
At Tuguegarao, however, we found assembled the presidentes of all the
Cagayan towns. Those from Abulúg and Pamplona positively assured me
that there were no trails thence into the Apayao country, and that
guides and carriers would be absolutely unobtainable. I insisted that
I would visit their towns and ask them to accompany me, whereupon they
actually wrung their hands and wept, complaining that the people of
Apayao used bows and poisoned arrows.
In disgust I told them that I would abandon the trip for that year,
but the following year would go to Laoág in North Ilocos, cross the
"Cordillera Central" and come out through the Apayao country, taking
with me Ilocano guides and carriers, as the Ilocanos were real men.
I then proceeded up the river to Ilagan and went overland through Nueva
Vizcaya, ultimately crossing Ifugao from east to west and thoroughly
exploring the territory from which I had been excluded on my previous
trip; proceeding thence to Bontoc and Cervantes over a route new to me,
and finally returning through Benguet and Pangasinán to the railroad,
where I took train for Manila.
The following year I carried out my promise, taking with me Colonel
Villamor, who had rendered very valuable and satisfactory assistance on
my previous trip. I also had three white companions, Dr. Paul C. Freer,
superintendent of government laboratories, Major Samuel Crawford and
Lieutenant L. D. Atkins. These officers commanded a detachment of
twenty-five Ilocano constabulary soldiers which I reluctantly took
along, warned by my experience of the previous year and convinced by
the arguments of my Ilocano carriers, who declined to accompany me
unless I took an armed escort.
Prior to my departure from Manila I had received an urgent telegram
from the governor of North Ilocos informing me that one Abaya, a wild
Tingian from Apayao, had been sentenced to a term of imprisonment in
Bilibid, the insular penitentiary, and urging me to arrange if possible
to have him detained at Laoag until my arrival there, which I did.
On reaching Laoag, I was amazed to find a large delegation of fully
armed Apayao men waiting for me at the river bank. They followed me to
the house where my quarters were to be, and sat down on the stairway,
with the obvious intention of seeing that I did not leave without
their knowledge.
On asking the meaning of this occurrence, I was told that they were
friends of Abaya and wished to talk with me. When given an opportunity
to do so, they told me a singular tale, which admirably illustrates
the relations prevailing in that region between the wild men and
their Filipino neighbours.
Abaya was one of a few men in Apayao who dared to descend to the
lowlands. He came down occasionally, bringing tobacco and wax to
barter for cloth, steel, salt and other necessaries not obtainable
in Apayao. Being unable to speak Ilocano well, he obtained a Filipino
agent known as his "commissioner," who transacted his business for him,
withholding for himself a liberal percentage of the proceeds.
On the occasion of his last visit to the lowlands, the "commissioner"
had told Abaya that he had a Negrito slave who was planning to escape,
and had directed him to take his head-axe and kill the Negrito,
promising him half of a large pig in payment for this service.
Abaya, nothing loth, hastened to execute the order, hunting up the
Negrito and aiming a terrific blow at him. Fortunately the Negrito saw
it coming and jumped so that he received it on his shoulder instead
of his neck. It inflicted a horrible wound, but he nevertheless
ran away so fast that Abaya was unable to catch him and finish the
job. He returned and regretfully reported his lack of success to his
"commissioner." To his amazement he was arrested, taken to Laoag
and held for trial. Both he and his friends were convinced that the
reason for this was his failure to kill the Negrito, and the friends
assured me in the most positive terms that Abaya had done his very
best and that it was through no fault of his that the Negrito had
escaped! They demanded his immediate release.
Meanwhile I had been informed by the governor of the province that
Abaya's people had threatened to come and wipe out the village where
his "commissioner" lived, and also to kill all of the Negritos in that
vicinity in revenge for the arrest and imprisonment of their chief.
It struck me that the "commissioner" was the man who ought to be in
jail, but I did not care to allow the Apayao people to think that they
could make such threats with impunity, so asked them whether it was
true that they were planning to wipe out the village in question. They
said yes. I then told them that they must not do it. They expressed
a willingness to obey any instructions that I might give to them. I
asked whether their promise to let the village alone was dependent upon
Abaya's being set at liberty, and they answered no. We then took up
the question of killing the Negritos. They were greatly amazed that I
should object to this, urging that they had always fought the Negritos,
and that the latter were bad people who constantly made trouble with
their poisoned arrows; theretofore it had been considered commendable
to kill as many as possible. However, they said that they would let
the Negritos alone if I insisted upon it, irrespective of whether or
not Abaya was released. Having duly impressed them with the fact that
the matter of the release of Abaya must stand on its own merits,
and could not be made to depend on their subsequent good or bad
conduct, and having interviewed the Filipino judge who sentenced
Abaya and learned that he had been puzzled to know what to do and
was heartily in favour of having him pardoned, I telegraphed to the
acting governor-general requesting that this be done, and continued
my journey, leaving word that Abaya should follow me if set at liberty.
He was promptly pardoned. His people insisted that he join them
and take to the mountains, but he told his friends that since I
had secured his release he would do what I had asked. He overtook
me before I had finished my second day's march, and stayed with me
until I gave him leave to go his way!
Our climb over the cordillera was by no means a pleasure trip. We
were forced to use beds of streams and Tingian warpaths in lieu of
trails. At one time our way lay over wet limestone rocks which were
slippery as ice. Here our hobnailed shoes were a positive source of
danger. The feet of our carriers were badly torn, and we ourselves
suffered from occasional falls on the sharp rocks. We secured the
help of some additional Tingians whom we met journeying to the coast,
paying them liberally enough so that they were willing to abandon
their proposed trip and accompany us.
We sent all of our Tingian companions ahead to give notice of our
friendly intentions before reaching the first village in Apayao,
but its inhabitants nevertheless ran away. Thoroughly exhausted, we
decided to spend a night there. In the course of the afternoon our
men were able to bring in some of their fellow tribesmen who lived
in the vicinity, and we made friends with them.
From this point a half day's march brought us to the head-waters of the
Abulúg River at a point where it was navigable for bamboo rafts. We
delayed at a little village until we could construct rafts enough to
float our large party, and then started downstream, knowing that we
should meet plenty of people, for the Tingians of Apayao are fond of
placing their villages on river banks.
Our trip was a wild and adventurous one. Fortunately I had purchased
some twenty dollars' worth of beads and with these I made at least
twenty-five hundred presents! The friendship of the women at the first
town which we met was thus secured, and thereafter the "grapevine
telegraph" worked ahead of us and we found waiting delegations of
women and girls on the river bank at almost every village. So long
as they were about, it was reasonably certain that the men would not
make any hostile demonstration.
The trip proved a great success in every way. Many of the numerous
settlements which we visited were at war with each other. One had
just been attacked, and a number of its people had lost their heads,
literally. We were constantly warned that the residents of the next
town down the river were "bad people" and that "five hundred" of them
were waiting in the river bed to attack us, but only once were we in
any real danger of being molested, and even then diplomacy prevailed.
We were careful to respect local customs. One town was reported to be
cañao, which is equivalent to "taboo," because of the death of the
wife of the headman, and we religiously kept away from it. Another
was cañao because of a virulent epidemic of smallpox, and we were
more than willing to keep away from that one!
We bumped down rapids and shot over several low falls. Again and again
our rafts were torn to pieces and we were precipitated into the rushing
stream. At one time a constabulary soldier was under water for some
ten minutes, and we thought him dead when he was first fished out,
but finally succeeded in resuscitating him.
We had been told that the trip would take eight days and had made
our plans accordingly. It took fifteen. Food ran short. Shoes and
clothing gave out. Some of our soldiers were dressed in clouts before
we reached civilization, and crawfishes on which our men could pounce
along the edges of the river were out of luck!
I shall long remember the shout of delight which our Filipino
companions set up when we finally passed through the last mountain
gap and came out into the open country, but as a matter of fact the
most disagreeable part of our journey lay before us. Up to that time
our progress had been rapid and exciting. Now the current of the river
grew sluggish, and we were largely dependent on it, as our rafts were
too heavy to paddle and the stream was in many places so deep that
we could not pole them.
We found ourselves in the country of very wild Negritos. Our Tingian
friends had informed us that these people would certainly sneak up
and shoot arrows into our camps at night, but nothing of the sort
occurred. On the contrary, through the liberal use of scarlet cotton
cloth, we were able to establish very friendly relations with the
Negritos encountered, some of whom gave us in exchange deer meat
enough for a feast, which was highly appreciated by all concerned.
On arrival at Abulúg we were received with great surprise by the
people, who had heard that we had been attacked and killed. There I
developed malaria and contracted bronchitis.
We made our way up the Cagayan River to Ilagan and thence proceeded
overland to the Kalinga villages in the vicinity of Sili. At the
latter place we had an amusing experience. Knowing that we were
going to Mayoyao, some Ifugaos from that town had joined our party
for protection. A delegation of Sili Kalingas waited on us during the
lunch hour and politely asked to be allowed to take the heads of these
Ifugaos, saying that they needed some fresh heads, and that it would
save a lot of trouble if they could have these, so providentially
brought to them by their respective owners. I explained to them that
we really needed the Ifugaos, and they politely waived their claim
to them in our favour!
I had been assured that I could ride a horse to Mayoyao in two and
a half days. The trip took five days. Much of the way horses were
worse than useless. Before we reached our destination my bronchitis
had developed into pneumonia and I was very ill. My white companions
on the Apayao trip had long since left me, but at Ilagan I had been
joined by Señor Claraval, who was later elected governor of Isabela,
and by an American school-teacher. Colonel Villamor had stayed with
me. Now all my companions turned back and I continued my journey
accompanied only by Ifugaos and by a young lieutenant of constabulary
named Gallman, who had then just come to the Ifugao country but was
later destined to play a most remarkable part in bringing its warlike
people under control and starting them on the road toward civilization.
Our route from Mayoyao to Banaue of necessity followed the Ifugao
war trails, which invariably run along the crests of mountains so as
to command a view in both directions. The country through which we
passed was frightfully broken, and I could hardly stand.
Wherever it was humanly possible to do so, the Ifugaos carried me in
a blanket slung under a pole. They took me up almost perpendicular
ascents in this way, but in some cases the ascents were quite
perpendicular and the descents the same, so that I had to try to
climb, constantly falling as the result of weakness and exhaustion,
in spite of the efforts of the Ifugaos to keep me on my feet. We
reached Dukligan at dusk and there we spent the night.
In the morning I found myself unable to rise, so took a stiff dose of
whiskey. As this failed to produce the desired result, I took a second
and finally a third. Under the potent influence of the stimulant I
managed to get up. The willing Ifugaos carried me clear to the rice
terraces near Banaue, making a joke of the hard work involved. There
were always a dozen men on the pole, and whenever one set of carriers
grew weary there was a scramble, closely approaching a fight, to
determine who should be allowed next to take their places.
These jolly people constantly gave a peculiar shout which was
ridiculously like an American college cheer. Ill as I was, I almost
enjoyed the trip, and conceived a great liking for the splendidly
developed men who were seeing me through in such gallant style. Had
it not been for their kindness, I should certainly have left my bones
somewhere between Mayoyao and Banaue.
They were determined to lug me through the rice terraces, but as
it took at least four men to carry me, and the weight of the five
of us was sufficient to cause the tops of the high terrace walls to
crumble so that I had several narrow escapes from falling down them,
I climbed out of my extemporized hammock, took one more big drink of
raw whiskey and on the strength of it managed to stagger along to
the river, where I was amazed to find a horse awaiting me. Nothing
ever looked better to me than did that somewhat decrepit animal!
I was absolutely unfit to travel, but having rested at Banaue for
half a day, and realizing that it was imperatively necessary that I
should get to a doctor at once, I made what was then record time to
Banaue, Bontoc, Cervantes and Baguio, and on arrival at the latter
place proceeded to go to bed and be comfortably ill.
Tramping over the northern Luzón mountains with my lungs partly
solidified left my pumping machinery in such shape that I have never
since been able to make a hard trip on foot, but that is no longer
necessary. Splendid horse trails now make travel through this region
a pleasure.
When we crossed Apayao only one other white man had achieved the
feat. This was a good missionary priest who in 1741 traversed the
country between Abulúg and one of the North Ilocos towns.
Lieutenant Gilmore's [18] Filipino captors took him and his companions
across a corner of Apayao, and instead of murdering them in the forest,
as they had been ordered to do, turned them loose. They made their way
across a portion of the territory traversed by us, and had reached
the Abulúg River and were attempting to build rafts when overtaken
by a rescue party of American soldiers. All hands then descended the
river to the town of Abulúg, and proceeded overland to Aparri.
Colonel Hood, who was commanding the United States forces there,
declined to let them enter the town until they had been provided with
decent clothing, thinking that the sight of American soldiers clad
in clouts might be too much of a shock to the inhabitants!
In 1907 I was able to land at various points along the then absolutely
unknown Pacific coast of northeastern Luzón, but failed to get
into touch with the Negritos, who constitute its sole inhabitants,
until near Palanan, the northernmost settlement of Filipinos on the
east coast.
With this trip my exploration work in northern Luzón ended, although
I have ever since made extended annual trips through the non-Christian
territory of the island.
During the years covered by this hasty narrative, I also made trips
to the territory of the wild men in Mindoro, Palawan, and Mindanao,
as opportunity offered. In Spanish days I had lived among the
Moros and had visited the mountains of Negros and Panay and seen
something of the wild men living there, so that I finally gained a
fairly comprehensive knowledge of the non-Christian tribes of the
Philippines, having seen representatives of nearly all of them, [19]
and lived for longer or shorter periods among all except some of the
more unimportant peoples in the interior of Mindanao.
As a result of these personal investigations I was able to reduce to
twenty-seven the eighty-two non-Christian tribes said by Blumentritt
to inhabit the Philippines; to determine with reasonable accuracy
the territory occupied by each, and not only to become familiar with
the manners and customs of the people of each important tribe, but
to establish relations of personal friendship with many chiefs and
headmen which have proved invaluable to me in my subsequent work for
the betterment of the non-Christian peoples which has so irritated
certain Filipino politicians who have wished to continue to oppress
and exploit them, or, like Judge Blount, have sought to minimize
their importance.
The latter individual seems to regard my past efforts to portray
actual conditions among the wild men as a personal grievance, and
has devoted an entire chapter to the shortcomings of "Non-Christian
Worcester." In it he says of me that I impressed him as "an
overbearing bully of the beggar-on-horseback type"; that I am "the
P. T. Barnum of the 'non-Christian tribe' industry"; that "in the
early nineties he [Non-Christian Worcester] had made a trip to the
Philippines, confining himself then mostly to creeping things and
quadrupeds--lizards, alligators, pythons, unusual wild beasts, and
other forms of animal life of the kind much coveted as specimens by
museums and universities," and goes on to tell how it was that "the
reptile-finder ultimately became a statesman." The Honourable Judge
summarizes his views concerning me by stating that he "considers
Professor Worcester the direst calamity that has befallen the
Filipinos since the American occupation, neither war, pestilence,
famine, reconcentration nor tariff-wrought poverty excepted." He
describes the experience on which he bases these statements as follows:
"During all my stay in the Philippines I never did have any official
relations of any sort with the Professor, and only met him, casually,
once, in 1901."
This latter statement is correct to the best of my recollection. "A man
is known by the company he keeps." I feel that I have been fortunate
in my friends and singularly blessed in my enemies! If I do not in
turn attack the Philippine career of Judge Blount, it is not for lack
of abundant ammunition, but for the reason that I believe that the
American public will be more interested in the truth or falsity of the
allegations concerning more important matters which we respectively
make than in our opinions of each other.
The Judge seems to have overlooked the fact that invective is not
argument. I leave to him the use of needlessly abusive and insulting
language. He has also apparently overlooked the further fact that
disregard of the truth is apt, sooner or later, to bring its own
peculiar reward. Later I call attention to certain of his misstatements
concerning the wild peoples of the Philippines, and correct them.