The last division may be said to be made up of fables, for the story
tellers without hesitation label them as fictions. The last of these
appears to be only a worked over incident of myth 56, in which the
big bird Banog carries the hero to its nest, from which he escapes
by holding to the wings of the young birds. It is possible that more
of these fables are likewise incidents in tales prevalent among the
Tinguian, but not heard by the writer. Whether or no this be true, it
is certain that most of these stories are well known to the Ilocano
of the coast and the other Christianized natives throughout the
archipelago. Comparison with the folk-lore from other regions shows
that these stories are by no means confined to the Philippines. The
chief incidents in the narrative of the turtle and the monkey have been
recorded from the Kenyah of Borneo [70] and from the northern peninsula
of Celebes [71]; the race between the shell and the carabao is told in
British North Borneo [72] in regard to the plandok and crab, while it
is known to European children as the race between the turtle and the
hare. The threat of the mosquito in 84 is almost identical with that
recorded by Evans in Borneo [73]; while many incidents in the fable
of Dogidog [74] are found in the Iban story of Simpang Impang [75].
When comparing the Tinguian versions of these fables with those of the
Ilocano, one is impressed with the fact that while the incidents upon
which they are founded are often identical, the stories themselves
have frequently been moulded and changed by the tellers, who have
introduced bits of old customs and beliefs until they reflect, in a
way, the prevalent ideas of the people. Thus in the story of the magic
_poncho_ [76], which is evidently of Spanish introduction, the owner
is identified as the _banbantay_--a well-known minor spirit. Again,
the first part of tale 85 is identical with that of the Ilocano,
but ends with the parents of the groom preparing the things used in
the _pakálon_--a very necessary part of the Tinguian marriage ceremony.
The footnotes have called attention to the many incidents which have
their parallels in other districts. Reference to these shows that
a large percentage are found in the islands toward the south. While
recognizing that similarity of incidents does not necessarily mean
identity of origin, we must still give full credit to the effects
of borrowing, even over great distances. The easy communication
along the coast during the past four hundred years and the contact
with Spanish and Christianized officials and traders will readily
explain the likeness of the tales in Division III to those held in
distant islands, or even in Europe, but, as just noted, these are
now undergoing change. Doubtless a similar inflow had been taking
place, although at a slower rate, long before the Spaniards reached
the Islands, and Tinguian mythology has grown up as the result of
blending of native tales with those of other areas, the whole being
worked over and reshaped until it fitted the social setting.
Previous writers--among them Ratzel and Graebner [77]--have sought
to account for certain resemblances in culture, between Malaysia,
Polynesia, and America, by historical connection. A part of our
material--such as that of the blood-clot child (p. 125), [78] the
rape of the maiden by the vine which carries her to the sky (p. 33),
the magic flight (p. 75), and magic growth (p. 38) [79]--may seem
to lend support to such a theory. These similarities are assuredly
suggestive and interesting, but it appears to the writer that the
material is too scanty and the folklore of intervening lands too
little known to justify us in considering them as convincing proof
of borrowing over such immense distances. [80]