In the main it may be said that in time of peace the members of the
various clans live on good terms, visiting one another and claiming
relationship with one another, but peace in Manóboland was formerly very
transitory. A drunken brawl might stir up bad blood and every clan and
every individual would make ready for a fight.
The Agúsan Valley was styled by Montano, the French traveler, "Le pais
de terreur," and from the accounts given to me it must have deserved the
name. A perusal of the "Cartas de los PP. de la Compañia de Jesus,"
which set forth the religious conquest of the Agúsan Valley, begun about
1875, will give an idea of the continuous raids and ambuscades that
interfered to no inconsiderable extent with the work of Christian
conquest undertaken by the missionaries. Upon my arrival in the Agúsan
in 1905 such rivers as the Ihawán, the Baóbo, the upper Umaíam, the
upper Argáwan, and all tributaries of the upper Agúsan, were seldom
visited by any but members of the clan to whose territorial jurisdiction
these rivers and the adjoining districts belonged. The establishment of
a special form of government on the lower and middle Agúsan, now known
as the subprovince of Butuán, did wonders toward repressing the
interclan raids, but on the upper Agúsan they continued at least until
my departure in 1910, though not to such an extent as in previous years.
For example, in February, 1910, the settlements of Dugmánon and Moncáyo
were in open hostility. I traveled both by land and water with members
of the two unfriendly clans. In traveling by water it was necessary to
proceed in midstream with shields protecting the occupants of the canoe
against the arrows of their enemies. On the trail it was imperative to
travel in bodies with a warrior on each side of the trail to guard
against ambush.
This feud arose out of a mere bagatelle, followed by the seizure of a
pig, and up to the time I left the region had given rise to four deaths.
I made every effort to adjudicate the case, but as each clan seemed
unwilling to yield, failed to bring the parties together.
THE CHIEF AND HIS POWER
THE SOURCE OF THE CHIEF'S AUTHORITY
It may be said in general that the chief is a man who, by his fluency of
speech and by his penetration and sagacity in unraveling the intricate
points of a dispute, by his personal prowess, combined with sagacity and
fair dealing, has won influence. Personal prowess appeals to the Manóbo,
so that in time of hostility the warrior chief is looked up to more than
any man who in time of peace might have enjoyed more influence and
prestige.
It must be borne in mind that the whole political organization of
Manóboland, including the system of government, social control, and
administration of justice, is essentially patriarchal, so that the
chieftainship is really only a nominal one. The very entity of a clan
springs from the kinship of its individual members, and, as in a family,
the stronger or abler brother might be selected on a given occasion to
represent, defend, or otherwise uphold the family, so in a Manóbo clan
or sect the stronger or the wiser member is recognized as chief.
However, he can not lay claim to any legal authority nor use any
coercion unless it is sanctioned by the more influential members of the
clan, is approved by public opinion, and is in conformity with customary
law and tribal practices, for there is no people that I know of that is
so tenacious and so jealous of ancient usages as the Manóbos of eastern
Mindanáo.
EQUALITY AMONG THE PEOPLE
Besides the titles applied to warrior chiefs and to priests, there is no
title that is in common use to express the influence and authority
wielded by any individual. It is not infrequent to hear of so-and-so
being spoken of as a _datu_ by the Bisáyas of the Agúsan Valley, but the
title is not used by Manóbos, but only by the Banuáon group inhabiting
the northwestern part of the valley or by Bisáyas when they desire to
cajole their Manóbo friends. The term _kuláno_ is sometimes used by the
Bisáyas, but as far as my knowledge goes is not used by Manóbos. It is
in all probability a form of the word _kuláno_ that is applied, I think,
to Bukídnon chiefs in the subprovince of Bukídnon. The fact that no
titles appear to exist for influential men except that of warrior chief
and of priest is an indication of the inferiority of the Manóbo to the
Mandáya in tribal organization.[1]
[1] In Mandáya a very influential chief is styled _á-ri-á-ri_, a kind of
petty king, and the elder of a settlement or even of an individual house
has a special name, significative of influence and of respect, to wit,
_ma-tá-duñg_.
There is no hereditary chieftainship, though a warrior chief makes
earnest endeavors to instill the spirit of valor into his first born
male child from the time he attains the use of reason. No insignia are
worn except by the warrior chief and the recognized warrior[2] to denote
the influence that they exert in the tribe or in the clan. Perfect
equality is conspicuous in nearly all things. The chief or the warrior
chief sallies forth, often in company with his slaves, and takes part in
fishing and in hunting expeditions. On the trail he may carry his own
share of the burden if he has been unable to induce others to take it. I
have had warrior chiefs, priests, and other influential people many a
time act as my carriers, but, of course, out of courtesy and respect,
had to allow them more in the way of recompense than was given to those
of lesser importance. The chief has no subordinate officers, no heralds,
and no assembly house. He lives in his own house and when any trouble
arises he settles it, in company with other influential men, either at
his own house or at any other house to which it may have been deemed
expedient to repair. Hence we may say that little or no formal
demonstration of respect is shown a chief. He is a Manóbo of more than
usual ability, of strong character, quick to discover the intricacies of
an involved question, facile of tongue, loved for his hospitality and
generous nature, more frequently better provided with worldly goods than
his fellow clansmen, and as a rule with a reputation for fair dealing.
Such are, in general, the sources of the respect that gives him a moral
weight in the arbitration of clan troubles or even of tribal concerns
when no hostility reigns.
[2] _Ma-ni-ki-ád_.
I have never heard among the Manóbos of any special celebration in which
a chief, other than a warrior chief, is formally recognized. He seems to
grow gradually into recognition, just as one brother of a family may,
after years of demonstrated ability, be looked up to by the rest of the
family.
RESPECT FOR ABILITY AND OLD AGE
Although the chiefs almost invariably look upon other men of the tribe
as their equals and show no affectation because of their position, yet
by those who come in contact with them a certain amount of respect is
shown. This is especially true in the great social and religious
gatherings and on the visit of a chief to another house. Here he gets an
extra supply of pork and of brew and of everything that is being
distributed.
From what has been said in a previous part of this monograph it is
obvious that women play no part in the control of public affairs. There
are no female chiefs. Women are domestic chattels relegated to the house
and to the farm. There is a common saying that women have no
tribunal--that is, are not fitted to take part in public
discussions--the reference being to the town hall of the Spanish regime.
Yet I know of one woman, Sinápi by name, who travels around like a chief
and through her influence arbitrates questions that the more influential
men of the region are unable to settle. She lives on the Simúlao River,
just above the settlement of San Isidro, and is without doubt the
individual of most influence on the upper Simúlao and Bahaían. In the
Jesuit letters mention is made of one Pínkai who had great weight among
her fellow tribesmen of the Argáwan River.
_Ceteris peribus_, the word and authority of the old are respected
more than those of others, probably because the former have more
numerous relatives, including often their great-grandsons and
great-granddaughters, as well as the indefinite number of relatives by
marriage that have joined the family since their first sons or their
first daughters married. When, however, they reach the age at which they
can no longer travel around and take part in the numerous imbroglios and
disputes that arise their influence is much less. This, it seems, is one
of the great differences between the social system of the Mandáyas and
that of the Manóbos and will explain the greater constancy and stability
of the Mandáya character as compared with that of the Manóbo.
THE WARRIOR CHIEF[3]
[3] _Ba-gá-ni_ from _ba-rá-ni_ (Malay), valiant.
The sword in Manóboland, as in all other parts of the world, is the
final arbiter when conciliation fails. Hence the prominent part played
by the warrior chief in time of war and frequently in time of peace. For
this reason it becomes necessary to discuss at more length the powers,
prerogatives, and character of the warrior chief.
GENERAL CHARACTER
The general character of the warrior chief is, among all the tribes of
the Agúsan Valley, that of a warrior who has to his credit an average of
five deaths. As such deaths are attributed primarily to the special
protection of divinities, called _Tagbúsau_, who delight in the shedding
of blood, the chief is regarded in the light of a priest in all that
concerns war in somewhat the same way as the _bailán_ or ordinary
priest, under the protection of his familiars of tutelary spirits, is
expected to officiate in all ordinary religious matters. To the priestly
office of the warrior chief is added that of magician to the extent that
he can safeguard himself and his friends with magic means against the
evil designs of his enemies. Finally, in a country where there is no
supremely constituted authority with sufficient force to remedy
grievances, but only personal valor and the lance and the bolo to appeal
to, it may be expected that in the majority of cases the warrior will
assume a fourth prerogative, namely, that of chief. Thus the warrior
chief will be considered heir in his warlike character of warrior, in
his magic character as medicine man, and finally in his political
character as chief.
The Christian conquest of the Agúsan Valley, begun in 1877, and the
establishment of a special form of government therein in 1907, have
contributed in no small measure to diminish the number of feuds and
bloody reprisals that had given the Agúsan Valley its reputation as "the
country of terror," and as a consequence leave little opportunity for
the recognition of new warriors. Thus it is that at the present day the
ancient system is fast fading away, and it is only a matter of years
before the warrior chief will be a thing of the past.
INSIGNIA AND PROWESS OF THE WARRIOR CHIEF
As a person of recognized prowess, the warrior chief is naturally the
leader in all warlike expeditions, and in time of peace he is looked up
to as the future defender of the settlement in which he resides.
Red is the distinguishing mark of the war chief's dress, which
ordinarily consists of a red headkerchief with embroidery of white,
blue, and yellow cotton at the corners, of a red jacket with similar
embroidery on the shoulders and around the back, and of long trousers,
sometimes red. His bolo is usually larger and more costly than those
carried by ordinary men and is generally of Mandáya origin. His spear,
too, is apt to be an expensive one, while his shield not infrequently is
tufted with human hair. When leading his band of braves to the attack or
during a sacrifice to his protector, the Tagbúsau, he wears his
charm-collar[4] with its magic herbs.[5] On the warpath he binds his
hair knot securely and envelops it with a rough hewn hemisphere of wood.
His influence in arranging all the details of the plan of attack is
strong, but during the attack itself he has little control over his
followers.[6] This might be expected from the spirit of independence
which the Manóbo displays even in the ordinary affairs of life when not
influenced by religious or other motives.
[4] _Ta-li-hán_.
[5] These collars are often as thick as a man's arm in the center,
tapering down to the ends. They are about 75 centimeters long, made out
of cloth, and contain in sections charms made of trees, plants, herbs,
and bezoar and other magic stones, all thought to have divers mystic
powers.
[6] So I have been assured by many great warriors.
In personal valor the warrior chief invariably surpasses his fellows.
There are many who will fight face to face, especially in the upper
Sálug, Baóbo, Ihawán, and Agúsan regions. Líno and his brother, the late
Gúnlas, both of the upper Sálug, are two of the numerous examples that
might be adduced. It is true that they take no inordinate risks before
an attack, and especially where firearms are opposed to them, yet during
an attack they become desperate and will take any risk.
The warrior has often been branded as a traitor, a coward, and butcher,
but such an opinion, I unhesitatingly assert, is based on ignorance and
prejudice.
THE WARRIOR'S TITLE TO RECOGNITION
When one of the braves who accompany an expedition has killed one or two
men in fair fight he acquires the title of _manikiád_ and is entitled to
wear a headkerchief striped with red and yellow. His prowess is
acknowledged, and he is considered to be so favored by the powers above
that he is looked upon as a prospective _bagáni_ or warrior chief. If
during ensuing expeditions, or by ambushes, he increases to five[7] the
number of people whom he has killed, his position as a full-fledged
warrior is recognized, but he does not become a warrior chief until such
time as the spirits of the gods of war become manifested in him. He is
then said to be possessed,[8] as it were, and it requires only a banquet
to the neighboring _datus_ and warrior chiefs to confirm his title.
These peculiar operations of divine influence consist of manifestations
of indescribable violence during the attack, of eating the heart and
liver of a slain enemy, and of various other exhibitions.
[7] The number of killings required for promotion to the rank of
_bagáni_, or recognized warrior, varies according to the locality.
[8] _Tag-bu-sau-án_.
VARIOUS DEGREES OF WARRIOR CHIEFSHIP
The rank of a warrior chief depends on the number of deaths which he may
have to his credit. There is apparently no fixed rule in this matter,
the custom of one region demanding five deaths for a certain rank while
that of another locality may require eight or only two deaths for a
similar one. From all reports made to me in nearly every district in the
middle and upper Agúsan it appears that the number of deaths requisite
in the olden days for the various degrees of warrior chiefship was much
higher than it is at present, due no doubt to the greater frequency with
which people were killed in those times. For this reason the more recent
warrior chiefs are spoken of by the older warriors as worthless.[9]
[9] _A-yo-á-yo_.
The following are the titles recognized by the Manóbos of the Agúsan
valley: (1) _hanágan_; (2) _tinabudán_;[10] (3) _kinaboan_; (4) _lúto_
or _linambúsan_; (5) _lunúgum_; (6) _lípus_.
[10] _Tinabudán_, i. e., wrapped, the full expression being "_tinabudán
to tabañg_," i. e., wrapped with a red handkerchief.
The first title, _hanágan_, is given to one who has killed five or more
people but has not yet been admitted to the full favor of a _tagbúsau_
or blood spirit. The second title, _tinabudán_, is given to a warrior
who has made it evident that he has divine favor and protection, made
manifest in the consumption of the heart and the liver, and who falls
into a condition similar to that of the priest while in an ecstasy. The
insignia of this degree consists of a red kerchief worn wrapped around
the hair knot at the back of the head.
The third degree, _kinaboan_, as the word itself indicates,[11] entitles
the bearer to add to his apparel a red jacket. Accounts are so various
that the exact time when this title is conferred can not be definitely
stated. Thus in Umaíam I was given to understand that 25 deaths were a
sine qua non, whereas on the Kasilaían River 6, and on the Sálug 7
deaths were reported as sufficient.
[11] From _ká-bo_, a jacket.
The fourth title, _lúto_, by its derivation means "cooked," "done,"
"finished," so that on attaining this degree a warrior is complete, at
least as far as his raiment is concerned, for he adds a pair of red
trousers. Though the number of deaths requisite for the attainment of
this degree is variously stated as being from 50 to 100, yet I suggest
15 as being, on the average, nearer the truth. The next degree,
_lunúgum_, as the word indicates, entitles the bearer to dress himself
all in black. It is a title acquired fortuitously, being given to one
who during an attack happened _to lance unknowingly a dead man in the
house of the enemy_. I can offer no further information on the point,
except that the recipient of this title must have been already a
recognized warrior. It seems probable that when a man commits such an
act on a dead man he is believed to be especially favored by the war
gods.
The warrior chief who acquires the last title, _lípus_, is supposed to
have innumerable deaths to his credit, but I venture to put 50 as a safe
standard of eligibility to this title. Fifty deaths extending over a
period of many years, and recounted with such additions as a little
vanity and a wine-flushed head might suggest, might easily be converted
into infinity. I know of no living warrior chief who bears the title of
_lípus_. Twenty-five deaths is the largest number reached by any warrior
with whom I am acquainted. The famous Líno of Sálug and his brother the
defunct Gúnlas, reached this rank.
THE WARRIOR CHIEF IN HIS CAPACITY AS CHIEF
It may be said that in nearly every case the warrior chief is the chief
of the clan or settlement. As a man of proved prowess, of sufficient
age, and with a good family following he is nearly always recognized as
the only one competent to deal with all cases that may come up between
his retainers and those of some other chief. Thus it may be said that
the Manóbo political system is a patriarchal one in which an elder
member of a family, through the respect due to his personal prowess,
age, and following, and not through any legal or hereditary sanction
adjudges such matters of dispute as inevitably arise between his
followers and those of some one else. The system is based on custom and
is carried out in a spirit of great fairness and equality.
The territory over which the warrior chief extends his sway is
recognized as being the collective ancestral property of the settlement.
In time of war no one except a relative is permitted to enter it under
the penalty of death, but in time of peace it lies open to all friendly
fellow tribesmen. Such matters, however, as fish poisoning[12] and
hunting by aliens are always interdicted.
[12] _Pag-tu-bá-han_.
Over this territory, usually occupying miles and miles of virgin forest,
lofty mountain, and fair valley, are scattered the dependents and
relatives of the warrior. It is only in times of trouble or of expected
attack that they build high houses for purposes of defense in closer
proximity to the chief. These settlements number between 20 and 200
souls, the former number being nearer the average than the latter.
The attitude of the followers toward their chief is in time of peace one
of kinship feeling or one of indifference. He has practically no
authority until called upon in time of trouble to lend the weight of his
influence and the fame of his prowess. He collects no tribute and
receives no services. In every respect he does as his lowest retainer
does, hunts, fishes, etc., except that he travels more to visit friendly
neighboring chiefs, who always receive him as a guest of honor and feast
him when they have the wherewithal.
Various grades of chiefs are occasionally reported, such as
_kuyáno_,[13] _masikámpo_,[14] and _dátu_ but such grades do not exist.
These names have probably been conferred by mercenary Bisáyas for
commercial reasons and are not assumed by Manóbos even for purposes of
ostentation.
[13] _Kuláno_, a title applied, I think, to Moros of the Rio Grande of
Mindanáo, and used, I have heard, by the Banuáons.
[14] _Maestre de Campo_--i. e., field marshal--was a title given by the
Spaniards to faithful Bukídnon chiefs.
The warrior chief is in almost every case the person of greatest
influence and authority, both by reason of his position in the family
and because of the prestige of his valor. In a country where the bolo
and lance are final arbiters when all else has failed the warrior must
of necessity be chief or be a person of very marked influence. If he is
not recognized as such, he generally removes himself with as many as
will or must follow to another locality, and there he becomes chief.
Nothing said here is intended to apply to the political organization of
the Christianized Manóbos, or _conquistas_ into settlements under the
special government of the Agúsan Province. My remarks are confined
exclusively to the pagan people.
THE WARRIOR CHIEF AS PRIEST AND MEDICINE MAN
The reader is referred to the second part of Chapter XXIV, Part IV, for
a detailed account of the functions and prerogatives of the warrior
chief in his capacity as priest. For the present we will pass on to
consider him in his role of medicine man, summarizing briefly his magic
methods for the cure of various ailments ascribed to supernatural agency.
As to the warrior's knowledge and powers in both capacities, I have
always found the many warrior chiefs with whom I have come in contact
very reticent and have accordingly been unable to secure detailed
information on this subject. It is beyond a doubt, however, that great
powers are attributed to them both in causing and curing certain
ailments.
It may be said that any disease attributed to the displeasure of the
blood spirits falls within their jurisdiction as priests and may be
cured by a sacrifice or by other ceremonial methods. As a general rule
they are supposed to have a knowledge of various magic and medicinal
herbs. They are always the possessors of necklaces,[15] to which are
attributed such powers as those of imparting invisibility and
invulnerability. These peculiar charms, as well as numerous herbs,
roots, and other things possessing magic power for good and for evil,
are often bound up in the charm collars and can not be seen. Nothing
will prevail upon the owner to declare even their names. After opening
the breast of the slain enemies they dip these mystic collars in the
blood and thereby, through the instrumentality of their blood spirits,
impart to the collars greater potency.
[15] _Ta-li-hán_.
Hemorrhages and all wounds or other troubles in which a flux of blood
appears are thought to emanate from the desire of the familiars of the
warrior priests for blood. Hence he is called upon to make intercession
and to propitiate[16] these bloodthirsty spirits with the sacrifice of a
pig or fowl. After the pig has been killed, a little of the blood is
caught in a split bamboo receptacle,[17] which is then hung up in the
house with the blood left in it for the regalement of these insatiate
spirits.
[16] _Dá-yo to tag-búsau_.
[17] _Bin-u-ká_.
Besides curative means the warrior medicine man is said to have secret
means of causing bodily harm to those against whom he feels a grievance.
These means are called _kometán_ and have been described in Chapter XV.
It is true that others are reputed to have these secret magic means, but
none except the warrior priest will make open confession of their
reputed powers.
CHAPTER XVIII
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION: WAR, ITS ORIGIN, INCEPTION, COURSE, AND
TERMINATION
MILITARY AFFAIRS IN GENERAL
There exists no military organization in Manóboland, no standing army,
no reviews, no conscription. The whole male circle of relatives and such
others as desire to take part, either for friendship's sake or for the
glory and spoil, form the war party. There is no punishment for failure
to join an expedition but as blood is thicker than water, the nearer
male relatives always take part and there are never wanting others who
either bear a grudge against the author of the grievance or go for the
emolument that they may receive or even for the sport and the spoil of
it. It is customary to bring along such male slaves as may be depended
upon to render faithful and efficient work. It is only fear of incurring
enmity that holds back the majority of those who do not take part. I
here desire, to impress upon my readers one important point in the
Manóbo's idea of war, and it is this: _That no blame is laid upon nor
resentment harbored toward anyone who joins an expedition as a paid
warrior_.[1] I have ascertained beyond reasonable doubt, after continual
questioning on my part and open unsolicited avowals on the part of
others, that warrior chiefs are frequently paid to redress a wrong in
which they have no personal concern.
[1] _Sin-nó-ho_.
In the case of ordinary tribesmen, I know that where personal feelings
and the hope of material advantages are not an inducement to partake in
the expedition, they are frequently tempted with an offer of some such
thing as a fine bolo or a lance, to lend their services to the leader of
the war party. It is needless to say that only close ties of friendship
or relationship to the enemy prevent the offer from being accepted,
_especially as the acceptance of it relieves the Manóbo from all
responsibility for such deaths as may accrue to his credit during the
prospective encounter_. When, however, previous feuds, or other
unfriendly antecedents existed between the warrior and his opponent, the
acceptance of a remuneration for his participation in the fray would not
shield him from the dire vengeance that would, sooner or later, surely
follow.
For a description of the weapons used and of the manner of using them,
the reader is referred to Chapter XI.
In the description of the Manóbo house (Chapter V), reference was made
to the high houses erected for defense when an unusual attack is
expected. Tree houses, at the time I left the valley, were very few and
far between, even in the eastern Cordillera and at the headwaters of the
Tágo River.
Besides building high houses and resorting to devices referred to in
Chapter V, the Manóbos occasionally slash down the surrounding forest in
such a way as to form a veritable abatis of timber.
In one place I saw a very unique and effective form of defense. A fence
surrounded the house. To gain access to the latter it was necessary to
ascend a notched pole about 2 meters high and then to pass along two
horizontal bamboo poles about 10 meters long. Numerous deadly bamboo
caltrops bristled out of the ground underneath the precarious bamboo
bridge that led to a platform whence the house could be reached only by
climbing the usual notched pole. Whosoever ventured to cross this
perilous bridge, would certainly meet death from one source or another,
either from the hurtling shower of arrows from above or from the
bristling caltrops below.
THE ORIGIN OF WAR
Fighting arises from one or more of the following causes: Vendettas,
sexual infringements, debts, and sometimes from a system of private
seizure, by which the property or life of an innocent third party is
taken. The Manóbo expresses the same thing in a simpler way by saying
that war has its origin in two things, namely "debt (blood debt
included) and deceit." It has been said that glory and the capture of
slaves are the springs of war in Manóboland, but this, in my opinion, is
not true. Nor will I concede that war is undertaken for merely religious
reasons. It is my belief, verified by numerous observations made during
several years of intimate dealing with Manóbos throughout eastern
Mindanáo, that fighting or killing takes place in order to redress a
wrong or to collect a debt, whether it be of blood or of anything else.
It is true that many who have no grievance, take part merely for the
sport, the spoil, and the glory of it, but in no case that I know of was
there wanting on the part of those who inaugurated the war a real and
reasonable motive. I have heard of cases of unjust warfare but my
informants were enemies of the parties against whom they complained and
most probably were calumniating them.
VENDETTAS
Vendettas, which exist in many more enlightened countries of the world,
are the most common cause of war, or it would be better to say, of the
continuance of war.
There is no doubt, in my mind, but that the whole eastern quarter of
Mindanáo would flame out into interclan warfare, were it not for the
efficient form of government now established there. I can bear witness
to this fact, as I was cognizant of various raids that took place from
1905 to 1907 and of the fact that they were much less frequent from the
close of 1907 till my departure from the Agúsan Valley in 1910.
As in other countries, so in Manóboland, not only is the vendetta
regarded as legitimate but it is considered the duty of every relative
of the slain to seek revenge for his death. Living in a state of
absolute independence from the restraints of outside government, as they
had been up to the beginning of the Christian conquest in 1877, the
Manóbos, according to their own accounts, passed a very unquiet
existence. On account of blood feuds, most of them lived in tree houses
built in lofty inaccessible places, as I have been repeatedly told by
old men. I have been assured that if ever the Americans leave the
valley, old blood scores will be settled, even should it be necessary
"to do without salt."[2]
[2] The enjoyment of salt seems to be, in the Manóbo's estimation, one
of the greatest blessings, if not the greatest, that he has derived from
civilization. Yet he would be willing to forego the use of it, if it
were possible for him to take revenge upon the slayers of his relatives.
The vendetta system was so prevalent during my first travels in eastern
Mindanáo that on one occasion a Manóbo of the Tágo River inquired of me
whether there were any living relatives of a certain Manóbo of the upper
Argáwan who had killed his grandfather. Upon learning that there were,
he forthwith besought me to accompany him in a raid against the
relatives of his grandfather's murderers.
Another instance will show the persistency with which the idea of
revenge is entertained. I noticed in a house on the Wá-wa River a strong
rattan vine strung taut from a rafter to one of the floor joists. My
host, the owner of the house, waxed over-merry in his cups and was
descanting on his valiant feats in the pre-American days. He suddenly
jumped up and twanged the rattan, intimating that he might yet be able
to take revenge on a certain enemy of his but that if he were unable to
do it, his son after him would strive to fulfill his teaching and that
in any case vengeance would be had before the vine rotted. Anyone
familiar with the rattan knows its durability, when protected from the
influences of the sun and rain.
This practice of stretching a green rattan in some part of the house and
of vowing vengeance "till it rot" is not uncommon, and is an indication
of the deep, eternal desire for vengeance so characteristic of the
Manóbos.
Another practice, also indicative of the vendetta system, is the
bequeathing from father to son[3] of the duty of seeking revenge. I have
never been present at the ceremony but have heard over and over again
that so-and-so received the inheritance and must endeavor to carry out
the dying behest of his father or other relative. One man, who had
received this "teaching," on being questioned as to whether he would
like to make peace with his enemy, seemed shocked and vehemently
protested, saying, "It can't be done, it can't be done, it is tabooed;"
he then went on to upbraid me soundly for the suggestion.
[3] It is called _ka-tud-li-án_.
In some cases, the task of revenge is turned over to a third party, who
has no personal interest in the feud. As explained to me, such a person
is in a better position to attack the enemy than one whose duty it is.
In case he succeeds in getting revenge, no blame, I was assured, is
attached to him, as he is regarded in the light of a paid warrior or
mercenary. Such an institution as this of the vendetta together with the
system of private seizure render life in Manóboland very hazardous, and
serve to explain the extreme caution and forbearance exhibited by one
Manóbo toward another in the most trivial concerns of life.
PRIVATE SEIZURE[4]
[4] _Tau-a-gán_.
The practice of private seizure is a very peculiar one, according to our
way of thinking, yet it is universal among the tribes of eastern
Mindanáo. As long as it is confined to material things, it is not
ordinarily a cause for war, but when practiced on a human being, it
frequently results in retaliation in kind.
The practice consists in seizing the property of a third, frequently a
neutral, party, as a "call" on the debtor. For example, A owes B a slave
and for one reason or another has been unable or unwilling to pay his
debt. B has exhibited a sufficient amount of patience, while at the same
time he has used every means to bring pressure to bear upon A. Finally,
despairing of collecting in an amicable way, and, most probably,
suspecting that his debtor is playing with him, he seizes a relative or
a slave or a pig of C as a "call" to A. C thus pays A's debt and then
takes measures to collect from him, the understanding being that B is to
take all responsibility for the consequences.
This system seldom gives rise to a blood feud except when blood has been
shed. Thus in the above instance, had B killed C, as a summons to A, a
feud would almost infallibly have followed. Yet C's relatives might have
been willing to accept a money compensation from B, and might have come
to an agreement whereby they would jointly operate against A in order to
avenge the death of C.
I witnessed a case in which the seizure of a pig was the origin of a
bloody feud that had not ended at the time of my departure from the
upper Agúsan. As the individuals involved in the case are still living
their names will be represented by letters.
A had been fined P15 because his wife had made the statement that B had
knowledge of a secret or magic[5] poison. C who was a relative of A and
already owed B to the amount of P15, with the consent of all parties
concerned, assumed the responsibility of paying A's debt, thereby
putting himself in debt to B to the amount of one slave (at P30). Now
some of C's relatives had certain little claims against some of B's
relatives and thought it a good opportunity to collect their own dues
and to diminish their kinsman's debt by presenting their claims for
payment. B refused to pay on the ground that his kinsfolk and not
himself were responsible for the settlement of said claims, whereupon C
refused to deliver his slave till the payment to his relatives was
forthcoming.
[5] _Ko-me-tán_.
The matter thus lingered for several months until B, who owed a slave to
another party, and was pressed for payment thought it time to force
matters, and, in company with three relatives, seized A's sow as a
"call" on C.
The result of this was that after a few weeks B's wife and another woman
were speared to death in a _camote_ patch, and in revenge B took the
lives of two of C's party. I made every possible effort to have the
matter adjudicated in an informal way but neither party seemed to be
anxious to come to terms.
Owing to this system of private seizure, a party of warriors returning
from an unsuccessful raid are considered dangerous, and settlements on
their trail put themselves in a state of watchfulness,[6] for when
returning without having secured a victim the party might be incited to
make a seizure in order to avoid thereby the derision of their enemies.
[6] _Lá-ma_.
DEBTS AND SEXUAL INFRINGEMENTS
Long-continued failure to pay a debt is very frequently the remote cause
of war. This is easy to understand if we consider the sacredness with
which debts are regarded in Manóboland. An excessive delay in meeting
obligations gives rise to hot and hasty words on the part of the
creditor; the debtor takes umbrage and retorts, a quarrel with bolos
ensues, thereby giving rise to a feud that, under favorable conditions,
may continue for generations with its fierce mutual reprisals. A feature
that serves to increase the number of these financial bickerings is the
fact that questions of indebtedness are almost invariably discussed
while drinking is going on and as a result, according to an immemorial
rule the world over, the creditor frequently indulges in personalities.
Sexual infringements are a cause of war. Only one case passed under my
personal notice but instances of olden days were related to me. There is
no doubt in my mind as to the result of a serious sexual misdemeanor; it
is death by the lance or the bolo for the offender without much
parleying, if one may give credence to the universal outspoken Manóbo
opinion on the subject.
INCEPTION OF WAR
DECLARATION OF WAR
No heralds go forth to announce to the enemy the coming conflict. On the
contrary, the greatest secrecy is maintained. If the grievance is a
sudden and serious one, such as the death of a clansman, a set of
ambushers may be dispatched at the earliest moment that the omens are
found favorable. Or it may be decided to attack the settlement of the
enemy in full force. If the latter decision is reached, a party is sent
out to reconnoiter the place of attack. All information possible is
obtained from neighbors of the enemy, and, if the reconnaissance shows
conditions favorable for an attack, the march is begun in due form.
Should the reconnoitering party, however, report unfavorably, the attack
is put off until, after weeks, months, or years of patient, but close,
vigilance and inquiry, a favorable opportunity presents itself.
Sometimes a bolder warrior chief who has a personal grievance may send a
war message in the shape of a fighting-bolo,[7] or of a lance with an
abusive challenge, but this is rare, as far as I have been able to
ascertain. It is common, however, for the more famed war chiefs to keep
their personal enemies on the _qui-vive_, by periodic threats. "I will
begin my march 10 nights from now," "I will reap his rice," "I will eat
his heart and liver," "He won't be able to sow rice for four years," "I
need his wife to plant my _camotes_"--are samples of the messages that
reach a clansman and keep him and his family on some mountain pinnacle
for many a long year till such time as the threat is carried out and the
posts of his house, all wreathed with secondary growth, tell the grim
tale of revenge. I have seen such posts scattered over the face of
eastern Mindanáo--a memory of the dead.
[7] _Li-kúd-lí-kud_.
TIME FOR WAR
The usual time for war is either on the occasion of death in the family
or at the time of the harvest season. The former is selected both to
soften, by the joy of victory, the sorrow felt for the loss of a dear
relative, and to check the jubilation that the enemy would naturally
feel and frequently express on such an occasion. The latter is chosen
for the purpose of destroying the enemy's rice crop or at least of
making it difficult for him to harvest it.
War is undertaken at other times also. Thus a sudden and grievous
provocation would cause an expedition to start just as soon as the
necessary number of warriors could be assembled, and a favorable
combination of omens obtained.
It often happens, I have been told over and over again, that when an
attack proves unsuccessful, those who repelled the attack set out at
once to surprise their enemies by a shower of arrows while the latter
are returning to their homes, or, if possible, reach the settlement
before them and massacre the defenseless women and children.
PREPARATIONS FOR WAR
The remote preparations for war consist in locating the house of the
enemy and in getting all information, even the minutest, as to the
trails, position of traps and bamboo spears. All this must be done
through a third party, preferably someone who has a grievance to
satisfy, and may require months or even years, for the Manóbo is a
cautious fighter and will take no unnecessary risks. During all this
time the aggrieved party is enlisting, in a quiet, diplomatic way, the
good will of as many as he can trust. If he has no recognized warrior
chief on his side he must by all means secure the services of at least
one, even though it should be necessary to offer him a material
compensation and in divers other ways gain his good will and cooperation.
The immediate preparations consist in sending out a few of the nearest
male relatives several days or even a week before the intended attack to
reconnoiter the settlement of the enemy. On the return of this party
word is sent to those who have agreed to join the expedition and a day
and place are appointed for meeting. A pig and a supply of rice are
procured and on the appointed day the relatives and friends of the
leader assemble at the trysting place, which was, in nearly every
instance that I witnessed or heard of, a house somewhat remote from the
settlement.
With a warrior chief for officiant certain religious rites[8] are
performed. The pig is partaken of in the usual style and, if the omens
are favorable, all is ready. But should the omens portend evil, the
expedition is put off to a more auspicious occasion. In one instance
that passed under my personal observation the departure of the warriors
was postponed for several days by reason of inauspicious omens. I have
heard of some cases in which the war party returned after several days'
march in order to await more reassuring signs of success.
[8] See Pt. IV, Ch. XXVI.
No particular demonstrations of sorrow are manifested by the women when
the war party sets out. Revenge is of more importance than love.
Moreover, it is seldom that the casualties on the side of the aggressors
amount to more than one, so that no fear is entertained and all are
sanguine as to the outcome, for have not the omens been consulted and
have they not portended so many deaths and so many captives?
The band glides off silently and stealthily into the forest. A war
chief, if one has been willing to join the expedition, usually leads,
accompanied, it is believed, by his invisible war deities. A little
ahead, just the distance of a whisper, the Manóbos say, strides
Mandayáñgan, the giant and the hero of the old, old days. All ears are
alert for the turtledove's cry, and when its prophetic voice is heard,
every arm is up and points with closed fist in the direction of it. But
it is only its direction with regard to the leader that is considered.
If this is unfavorable, the march is discontinued till the next day,
but, if favorable, the party proceeds, selecting, as much as possible,
tortuous and seldom trodden trails.
The following are some of the taboos that must be observed by the party
while en route.
(1) They may speak to no one met on the trail.
(2) Nothing once taken in the hand may be thrown away until night or
until arriving at the enemies' settlement. Thus a piece of a branch
caught in the hand and broken off accidentally must be retained.
(3) They may eat nothing that is found on the trail. Thus killing game
is prohibited. I heard of one man who had been wounded in an ambush
arranged by the enemy on the trail. He assured me that his ill luck was
due to his having taken a fish dropped by a fish eagle.[9]
[9] _Man-dá-git_.
(4) The food taken on the trail must be placed upon one shield,
preferably that of the leader, and thence distributed to the members of
the party.
(5) The wives of the warriors are forbidden to indulge in unnecessary
shouting and noise, and to remain within the house as far as possible
till the return of their husbands.
(6) No cooking may be done on the trail till the settlement of the enemy
is reached. This does not mean that food may not be cooked in a house
along the trail. On the contrary, I was assured that on a long trip it
is customary to call at the house of some friendly person and to make a
sacrifice, at the same time taking further observations from the
intestines of the victim. I was an eyewitness of this proceeding on one
occasion and did not fail to observe also with what relish the war party
replenished the inner man.
Besides taboos, there are a number of evil omens that must be guarded
against. Thus, if a snake were to cross the path, or any insect such as
a bee or a scorpion were to bite or sting one of the party, the return
of the whole number would be necessary unless they were too far advanced
already. In the latter case other omens must be consulted, and, when it
is felt that these new omens have neutralized the effect of the previous
ones, the march may be continued. Owing to the observance and
reobservance of omens it is obvious that great delays are occasioned and
at times the expedition is stopped. On the one that I accompanied in
1907, the turtledove gave a cry, the direction of which was considered
to portend neither good nor evil, and the leader expressed his opinion
at the time that the object of the expedition would not be attained. He
was overruled, however, by the consensus of opinion of his companions,
and the march was resumed. Notwithstanding the fact that ensuing signs
all proved favorable, yet as I observed very clearly, the first omen had
depressed the spirits of the party. When my efforts to settle the
dispute without a fight failed, and an open attack was decided upon,
there seemed to be no morale in the party, and the attack was abandoned
without any special reason. This instance will serve to show the
uncompromising faith of the Manóbo in omens, especially in that of the
turtledove.
There is one omen of a peculiar nature that is of singular importance
while on the warpath. On such a journey red pepper and ginger are
consumed in considerable quantities for the purpose, it is said, of
increasing one's courage. Naturally, no matter how accustomed one may
have become to these spices, he always feels their piquancy to a certain
extent, so that the warrior who fails to become aware of a sharp biting
taste, regards this as an ill omen and, though he accompanies his
fellows to the scene of combat, takes no part in the attack.
It is usual, as was said before, to stop over at a friendly house
nearest to that of the enemy and to send forward a few of the band to
make another reconnaissance but, if no house is available, a stop is
made anywhere. A reason for this is that they may arrive near the
settlement at nightfall or during the night.
When the party arrives within a few miles of the actual ascent to the
mountain where the enemy's house is situated, a halt is again made in a
concealed position and a few of the more experienced warriors advance at
dusk on the trail to the house. If the enemy has been in a state of
constant vigilance, this undertaking is one of extreme difficulty. The
house is on the top of a lofty hill and frequently access can not be had
to it except by passing through a series of swamps. In addition one must
climb up precipitous ascents, and break through a network of felled
trees and such other obstacles as the reader can readily imagine for
himself. There is, moreover, the danger from spring traps set both for
man and animal, and from sharp bamboo slivers placed all around the
house and on the trails. Thus a fair idea can be obtained of the
difficulties that are encountered by those who, in the silence and
darkness of the night, inform themselves of all that is necessary for a
successful attack. After going around the house and unspringing traps
and removing sufficient of the bamboo slivers to afford a safe passage,
the scouts return to the camp and a whispered consultation takes place.
Positions are assigned to each man and a general plan of attack is made.
Then, groping along in the gloom of the night, with never a sound but
that of their own stumbling steps, they put themselves in position
around the settlement and await with bated[sic] breath the break of day.
THE ATTACK
TIME AND METHODS OF ATTACK
The break of day is selected as the hour for the attack because sleep is
then thought to be soundest and the drowsiness and sluggishness
following the awakening to be greater. Moreover, at that time there is
sufficient light to enable the attacking party to see their opponents
whether they fight or flee.
The number of combatants depends entirely on the strength and position
of the enemy. As a rule as many as possible are enlisted for an
expedition where the enemy has numerical strength and a strong position.
In the expedition which I accompanied in 1907, the party numbered some
60. I have heard of war parties that numbered 150.
When the house or houses of the enemy are low, the aggressors steal up
noiselessly and, breaking out into the dismal war cry,[10] drive their
lances through the floor or through the sides of the house, if it is low
enough. They then retire and by listening and questioning ascertain
whether any of the inmates still survive. If any remain alive they are
to surrender.
[10] _Pa-nad-jáu-an_.
When, however, the settlement is a large one, consisting of one or more
high houses, the matter is a more difficult one. The aggressors advance
to the house and if the floor is out of reach of their lances one or
more of the bolder ones may quietly climb up the posts and after
dispatching one or more of the inmates with a few thrusts hurriedly
slide down to the ground. Then the war cry is called out to increase the
consternation that has begun to reign in the house. If the enemy is
known to have a large stock of arrows the aggressors retire and allow
them to expend part of their supply.
No unnecessary risks are taken in fighting. When the male portion of the
enemy are considered capable of making a stand, the house is not
approached but a battle of arrows takes place, the aggressors advancing
to entice the enemy to shoot, while their bowmen, usually only a few in
number, reply. During all this time there is a bandying of hot words,
threats, and imprecations on both sides. "I'll have your hair," "I'll
eat your liver," "I'll sacrifice your son," "Your wife will get my
water," are a few of the expressions that are used. The drum and gong in
the house may be beaten all this time as a signal of distress to call
such relatives or friends as may live within hearing distance. The
priestesses of the attacked party may go through a regular sacrifice if
there is a chicken or a pig in the house, beseeching their deities to
protect them in this the hour of danger.
When the arrows of the enemy are thought to be expended, the attacking
party try by means of a burning arrow to fire the roof. Should this
succeed, the inmates are doomed, for when they escape from the house the
enemy close in upon them, and kill with lances or bolos, men and women,
whether married or single. As a rule, only the children are spared.
Should the roof, however, fail to catch fire another means of attack is
employed. Putting their shields upon their heads in a formation much
like the old Roman testudo, they advance to the house in bodies of four
or six and begin to hack down the posts. But here again they may be
foiled, for it has happened that the inmates of the house were provided
with a supply of big stones, or had a little boiling water on hand, and
made their opponents retire out of fear of the arrows that would be sure
to follow when the stones had broken the arrangement of their shields.
Moreover, the ordinary Manóbo, who has lived in expectation of an attack
sooner or later, has his house set on a number of posts varying from 12
to 20. No little time would be required to cut these and the aggressors
would be in danger of receiving wounds and thereby bringing the attack
to an end, _for it is the invariable practice for the party to retire
after one of its members has been wounded or slain_. The reason for this
custom I am unable to state. There occurred on the Argáwan in 1907 an
instance which I verified, and in the various accounts of Manóbo
fighting that I received all over the Agúsan Valley, there were numerous
instances of the observance of this custom.
In besieging the house, which may not be captured for several days,
either firewood, food, or water may give out quickly, and the besieged
succumb to hunger, or to thirst. In their last extremity they make a
dash for liberty, especially during the night, and, though many of them
fall victims, not a few frequently save themselves.
Sometimes, I was told, the besieged rush forward and meet death
fighting. Again the men are said to kill their wives and children with
their own hands, and then to go forth to meet the enemy. Father Urios,
S. J., makes mention of a case of this kind.
As to the number of slain, and of captives, it depends on the size of
the settlement. In an instance which I verified on the Húlip River,
upper Agúsan, some 190 souls perished in one attack. Though this number
seems large, yet it goes to show that on occasions raids are made on a
somewhat larger scale than might be expected.
As each one of the attacking party strikes down the victim that falls in
his way he notifies his companions of the fact by a fierce yell, calling
out at the same time the name of his victim. This is to avoid disputes
later and to secure the credit for the killing. Though the killing of a
woman does not entitle the warrior to any special title, yet it adds one
to his glory list and is supposed to make him more apt to fall into the
favor of a war deity. It is said that in the confusion of the flight
many women meet their end but that a good many remain in the houses and
yield themselves to the mercy of their captors. Some of these,
especially the younger ones, are bound with rattan, if they offer
resistance and dragged to the settlement of their captors.
As soon as it is ascertained that there is no one left to offer
resistance the warriors adorn their lances with leaves of _palma brava_
or such other palm fronds as may be found in the vicinity.
Many warrior chiefs, especially of the Debabáon[11] group, have
described the fight to me and all agree that it is generally of short
duration. This might be expected from the number of precautions taken to
insure success. According to all reports a strongly entrenched enemy is
seldom attacked, unless it is ascertained that a goodly portion of the
male members are absent.
[11] Babáo is the district between the Sálug and Libagánon Rivers.
As a resume of the method of attack, based on what I learned during my
sojourn among the Manóbos, I may say that there are no general nor
partial encounters. The house or the settlement is surrounded stealthily
just before day, the warriors being spread out at intervals in bands of
three or four around the settlement and protected if possible by trees.
The leader, who is nearly always a warrior chief, takes up his position
with some trusty warriors at the place of closest approach to the house,
or at some other strategic point. The arrowmen, who number only a few,
are stationed near him. They work at a disadvantage for they have to
shoot upward while their opponents in the houses can discharge their
arrows downward.
From these positions the attacking party make every effort to cause a
panic among the inmates of the house either by chopping down the posts
which support the house or by firing the roof. If either purpose is
accomplished the besieged rush forth only to meet the point of the lance
or the edge of the bolo.
There are no preconcerted movements, no combinations with centers,
wings, and reserves. The chief has little or no influence with his
followers during the fight, though on account of his personal prowess he
is looked up to as a pillar of strength and would, no doubt, if given
the opportunity, or if the abuse and banter were extreme, engage in a
hand-to-hand encounter. Numerous cases of this kind are on record.
No women nor priests take part in the attack. There are no orators to
inspire the warriors to deeds of valor. In lieu of oratory, the warriors
on each side engage in the most ferocious abuse imaginable. Challenge
after challenge is yelled out defiantly by the besiegers. In the
expedition which I joined in 1907, the attacking party incessantly
defied their enemies to come down, while the latter in return challenged
the besiegers to approach. Neither party seemed willing to take the risk
so the arrowmen plied their arrows, the priestesses in the houses
continued their invocations, and everybody howled challenges and
imprecations at everybody else.
EVENTS FOLLOWING THE BATTLE
CELEBRATION OF THE VICTORY
After the fight is over the warrior chiefs perform a ceremony of which I
have been able to learn but few details. They are said to become
possessed by their tutelary war spirits. They dance and jump around the
lifeless body of their chief enemy.[12] After performing their dance
they open the breast of the enemy and remove the heart and liver, and
place their charm collars[13] in the opening. When the heart and liver
have been cooked, they consume them. But as several war chiefs have
assured me, it is not they that partake of the flesh, but their
protecting deities. Be that as it may, lemon[14] whenever obtainable, is
mixed with the gory viands. Some warriors informed me that their deities
preferred the heart and liver raw.
[12] Their tongues are said to loll out of their mouths "one
palm-length." This may seem somewhat exaggerated but I can throw no
further light on the matter.
[13] _Ta-li-hán_.
[14] _Sú-ái_. It is interesting to note the frequency of the use of
lemons or limes in religious proceedings.
It is perfectly legitimate to despoil the enemy's house and to bear away
such few valuables as may be found. The house, or houses, are then
burnt, and the victors, leaving the slain where they fell, hasten back
with their captives to cheer the fond ones at home.[15]
[15] I have heard it said that the bodies of the slain are doubled up
and put into holes in the ground in an upright position. As far as I
know this is an exceptional proceeding.
It is said that, as a rule, the aggressors are victorious, for rarely do
they attack an enemy that is too strongly entrenched. They prefer to
wait, even for years, till an occasion favorable in time, place, and
circumstances, presents itself. It is only under special provocation,
such as continual attacks by their enemy, that they attack him while he
is in a strong position and then more with a view to destroying his
crops than with the hope of securing a victim.
THE CAPTURE OF SLAVES
The capture of slaves is one of the important features of the
expedition. A slave becomes the property of the captor, although a
certain number are very frequently given in payment to the warrior chief
or chiefs who were engaged to help the raiding party. This number
depends on a previous agreement. The age of the captive decides whether
he or she will be taken into captivity or slain on the spot. As a rule,
all but children under the age of puberty are despatched[sic] there and
then as they are liable to escape sooner or later if taken captive.
However, I was assured by several warrior chiefs that the better looking
unmarried girls are not killed, but are kept to be married, or to be
retailed in marriage, thereby bringing a handsome remuneration to the
owner. It must not be supposed by the reader that this implies anything
inconsistent with sexual morality, for these female slaves are treated
with as much delicacy as if they were the captor's daughters. To the
numerous inquiries that I made on this point, there was only one
reply--that sexual intercourse with them was foul and would make the
offender _ga-bá-an_.[16] A warrior who would be guilty of violating this
taboo would never, it is thought, attain the rank of warrior chief.
Should anyone of the warriors desire to marry his captive he must go
through a purificatory[17] process, the details of which I am unable to
furnish.
[16] I have never yet been able to grasp the significance of this word.
It is used by Bisáyas in the form _hi-ga-bá'-an_, which has apparently a
very similar meaning.
[17] _Hú-gad_.
The above taboo goes even further. Not only is the person of the living
female captives to be respected but also that of the dead, in so far as
it-is considered improper to remove from their persons any object such
as bracelets or hair. Men's bodies, however, are rifled of everything,
even their hair, and are then unmercifully hacked and hewn.
THE RETURN OF THE WARRIORS
If the war party is unsuccessful, they return hastily and cautiously. It
frequently happens that the enemy take a short cut, being better
acquainted with the geography of the region, and lay an ambush at a
suitable point. For this reason a close watch is kept on the return
home; a few warriors take the lead, and where a beaten trail is
followed, a few keep guard on each side at a distance of several yards,
to avoid falling into an ambush. When the party arrive at their
settlement each repairs to his own house. A thousand and one reasons are
assigned for failure, but never is it attributed to a falseness of the
omens--anything but that. Should the band, however, have been
victorious, or have brought about the death of the chief enemy at least,
no words can describe their joy and jubilation. The woods reecho with
their wild screams and the weird ululations of the battle cry. Each one
provides himself with a bamboo trumpet and makes the forest resound with
its deep boom. The captives that offer any resistance, are dragged
along, or even killed, if they become too troublesome. Upon nearing a
friendly settlement the din is redoubled and the whole settlement turns
out to welcome the victors. But when their home settlement is reached
the scene is indescribable. I witnessed an occasion of this kind. Before
the party came into sight the bamboo trumpets could be heard, first
faintly and then increasing in strength. As soon as the expectant women
and the few men who had remained in the village had satisfied themselves
that their relatives and friends were returning, drums and gongs were
beaten in answer. The young men and boys rushed out and crossing the
river on their rafts or in their boats dashed into the forest to meet
the conquerors. Even the women became hilarious and gave vent to loud
cries. For a few minutes before the appearance of the party the war cry
could be heard and when they came into view on the other side of the
river the din was indescribable. The gong and drum were brought down to
the bank and the war tattoo was beaten. The clanging of the gong, the
rolling of the drum, the booming of the trumpets, the ululation of the
war cry, and the lusty yells and shrieks of joy, welcome, and inquiry
produced a pandemonium that baffles description. Before the victors
crossed the river they all took a bath,[18] not for sanitary but for
ceremonial reasons. The bath is thought to have a purificatory effect in
that it removes the evil influence[19] of death.
[18] This is an invariable custom, I was told.
[19] _Bá-ho_, literally foul smell.
When the victors had crossed the river they removed the palm fronds[20]
with which they had adorned their lances and put them on the necks and
heads of their wives and friends. Later on a banquet was prepared and
the reader is left to conceive for himself the revels that followed. It
is said that not infrequently at this time some of the captives are
given to the unsuccessful warriors for immediate slaughter. That this
has occurred I have absolutely no reason to doubt, and every reason to
believe. I have heard many describe among themselves how it was done,
and what joy it gave them to be able to take revenge upon one of their
hereditary enemies.
[20] Called _Ma-yún-hau_. It is said that these are frequently stained
with the blood of the slain.
AMBUSHES AND OTHER METHODS OF WARFARE
Ambush[21] is a legitimate method of warfare, according to Manóbo
customs. It consists in locating one's self with one or more companions
at a place which the enemy is expected to pass. A favorite place for the
ambush is on the trail between the enemy's house and his rice or
_camote_ field, but a spot on a river bank or at any suitable point may
be selected. Great precautions are taken by putting up screens of leaves
to prevent the enemy from discovering the ambush. This is always made on
the right hand[22] and very frequently there is a supply of sticks and
stones in readiness. The position on the right hand is chosen because it
gives those in wait an opportunity to deal a blow on the weaker side of
the enemy, all of whom carry the shield in the left hand.
[21] _Báñg-an_.
[22] Right hand refers to the right hand of the party to be attacked.
It is customary to take an ear or the right forearm of one slain in
ambush as a proof of his death if the conditions of the ambush require
such a proof. An instance occurred during my first visit to the upper
Agúsan in 1907. Three Mañgguáñgans were ambushed by a mixed group of
Manóbos and Debabáons, and the above-mentioned parts of their bodies
were taken by the victors to their clans as a proof of the killing.
After a rupture between two parties, one or both of them go into a state
which is expressed by the word _láma_. This signifies that one or both
of them abandons his homestead and transfers himself and the members of
his household (usually a few brothers-in-law with their families) to
some place difficult of access. If the house can be built on a bluff, or
a hill that is approachable from only one or two sides, so much the
better. On such a site a house[23] is built varying from 5 meters to 8
meters in height, sometimes, though rarely nowadays, being built upon a
tree trunk. The felled timber at the edge of the forest is left
unburned. Bamboo or _palma brava_ caltrops are placed in the encircling
forest. In addition to these, spring traps[24] for human beings may be
set out if it is suspected that an attack is imminent. In certain
localities I have seen a stockade[25] erected around the house.
Sometimes a wall of old bamboo may be built from the ground up to the
floor, inclined inward at the bottom at an angle of about 70° to the
ground. The ladder is invariably a log with a number of notches in it.
Strips of bark or even bamboo shingles may form the roof but as a rule
the Manóbo takes his chances with a roof of rattan leaf.
[23] _I-li-hán_.
[24] _Bá-tik_.
[25] _In-á-gud_.
On approaching the house of one who is in state of vigilance, it is not
unusual to find certain signs on the trail. Thus a broken earthen pot is
frequently hung up, or if the trail leads to the house of a warrior
chief, there will be probably the parted bamboo called _binúka_, and a
number of saplings slashed down at a certain point on the trail, both of
which signs are symbolic of the evil fate that will befall such as dare
to enter the guarded region.
No one but a near relative may live within a certain definite distance
of a house which is in a state of defense, nor may anyone visit it
except by special request. If the inmate has to meet anyone he appoints
a trysting place at some spot in the woods and there the visitor, by
beating on the butress[sic] of a tree or by any other preconcerted
signal, announces his presence. The former may be suspicious and may
first circle around to examine the footprints before he ventures to
approach.
PEACE[26]
[26] _Dug-kút_.
When the opposing parties have evened up their blood accounts and are
wearied of ambushes, surprises, loss of relatives, destruction of crops,
and continual fight and flight, they agree to make peace either through
a friendly chief, or by a formal peacemaking. The desire to make peace
is made known by sending to the enemy a work bolo. If it is accepted, it
is a sign that the desire is mutual but if it is returned, arbitration
must be brought about through a third party, usually a warrior chief or
a _datu_. For this purpose a clear open space, such as a big sandbar, is
appointed and a day fixed.
On the appointed day the parties arrive in separate bands and take up
their positions facing one another, a line being drawn or a long piece
of rattan being placed on the ground beyond which no member of either
party may pass. Matters are then discussed in the presence of such
_datus_ or persons of influence as may have been selected for that
purpose and after balancing up blood and other debts, the leaders agree
to make the payments at an appointed time and thereby put an end to the
feud. As an evidence of their sincerity, they part between them a piece
of green rattan.[27] Then beeswax[28] is burned. This is a kind of oath
which serves to bind them to their contracts.[29]
[27] I have been informed of a very interesting custom said to be
observed by the Banuáon group in settling their troubles. It was said
that peace is made by hand-to-hand fights in which single pairs of
opponents fight until the _datus_ who act as umpires award the victory
to one or the other. This is called _din-a-tú-an_.
[28] _Tó-tuñg_.
[29] I never witnessed a peacemaking and I never had a chance to assist
at one of the referred combats of the Banuáon people, mentioned above.
CHAPTER XIX
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION: GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF THE ADMINISTRATION OF
JUSTICE; CUSTOMARY, PROPRIETARY, AND LIABILITY LAWS
GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS
Bisáyas and other people who have had more or less familiar dealings
with Manóbos almost invariably make the statement that Manóbo justice is
the oppression of the weak by the strong; that there is no customary law
that governs in social dealings except that one which is founded on the
caprice and villainy of the warrior chiefs and of those who have most
influence and following. Now I utterly repudiate such statements and
rumors as being due either to lack of familiarity; to a too ready
tendency to believe malicious reports; or to undisguised ill will
toward, and contempt of, Manóbos. I have lived on familiar terms with
these primitive people for a considerable period and have found no
evidence of oppression and tyranny. Disputes and misunderstandings arise
at times, people sometimes fly into a rage, killings take place on
occasions, but such things happen among other peoples. It is truly
surprising, considering the lack of tribal and interclan cohesion in
Manóboland, that such occurrences are not more frequent or even
continual. The statement that the warriors and other influential men
rule by caprice and oppression is unfounded. There is no coercion in
Manóboland, except such as arises from the influence of relatives, and
from gentle persuasion and general consent. A warrior chief, or any
other man who would try to use a despotic hand or even to be insolent,
exacting, or unrelenting in his manner, would not only lose his friends
and his influence, but would arouse hostility and place himself and his
relatives in jeopardy.
It must be understood from the outset that in Manóboland there is no
constituted judicial authority nor any definite system of laws. There
are no courts, and no punishments such as imprisonment, torturing, and
whipping. All social dealings by which one contracts an obligation to
another are regulated by the principle that one and all must act
according to established custom. This principle governs the procedure
even of chiefs and influential men when they endeavor to bring about a
settlement through the weight of their influence.
Voluntary and involuntary departures from the beaten track cause
disputes when these deviations affect another's rights. Thus to refuse
one the hospitality of the house, or to overlook him intentionally in
the distribution of betel nut would give rise to a dispute, because
these courtesies are customary and are therefore obligatory.
Punishment for a violation of customary obligation then becomes a matter
of private justice. The injured one either singly, or by means of his
relatives and of such friends as he may interest in his cause, seeks
reparation from the offender. If he can not secure it through an appeal
to customary law supported by the consensus of opinion of the relatives
on each side, he takes justice into his own hands and kills his opponent
or orders him to be killed.
GENERAL PRINCIPLES
THE PRINCIPLE OF MATERIAL SUBSTITUTION
The Manóbo system of law is still in its indefinite primitive stage. Its
fundamental principles are involved in the retention, preservation, and
devolution of property. Unlike the highly developed legal systems of the
world, it tends, in general, to consider violations as civil, and not as
criminal, wrongs. Hence upon due restitution, offered with good will,
the great majority of transgressions upon another's rights are quickly
condoned. In this it is far more humane than other systems that seek not
only justice for the injured party but the corporal punishment of the
wrongdoer.
RIGHT TO A FAIR HEARING
As far as my observation goes justice is administered on a patriarchal
plan in a spirit of fairness and equality. Except in the case of
flagrant public wrongs the transgressor is given a fair and impartial
hearing, aided by the presence of his relatives and of others whom he
may select or who may choose to attend the arbitration of the case. The
presence of the relatives contributes in nearly every case an element of
good will, and prevents the use of intimidation. It helps greatly to
promote, and not to prevent, justice. It is the paramount factor in
determining the defendant to yield, even when bad feeling has been
aroused on each side, and when their desire for revenge and spirit of
independence would naturally prompt them to have recourse to violent
methods. Though the female relatives do not take formal part in the
arbitration, yet in their own gentle way they exert a certain amount of
influence for good.
SECURING THE DEFENDANT'S GOOD WILL
Because of the desire for revenge which the Manóbo inherits and the
universal recognition of the revenge system in Manóboland, an appeal to
good will in the settlement of matters is very important, and is a
feature of every case of arbitration. I have attended many and many a
Manóbo arbitration at which the wrongdoer, after being condemned by the
consensus of opinion, was asked over and over whether he recognized his
fault and whether he received the sentence with good will. In nearly
every instance he replied that he did, and, as an evidence of his
sincerity, procured, as soon as convenient, a pig and invited the
assembly to a feast. On one occasion I acted as the judge in a case of
rape committed by a Manóbo who had had frequent dealings with Christian
Manóbos. At my urgent request his life was spared and a fine of 100
pesos was imposed upon him. After he had expressed his conformity with
the sentence and his lack of ill feeling toward his accusers, I notified
the chief of the other party of my intention to leave the settlement,
whereupon he told me secretly that I had better wait as the defendant in
the case would undoubtedly entertain the company with pork and
potations. And so it happened, for the defendant procured a pig that
must have been worth 15 pesos, and a supply of sugarcane wine that must
have cost him a few more, expenditures that would not be deducted from
the amount of his fine.
FOUNDATIONS OF MANÓBO LAW
Owing to the utter lack of interclan and tribal organization there is no
set of statute laws in Manóboland, but, in lieu of them, there are a
number of traditional laws, simple and definite, that, in conjunction
with religious interdictions, serve in the main to uphold justice, the
foundation of all law. There is no word for law in the whole Manóbo
dialect, but the word for custom[1] is used invariably to express the
regulations that govern dealings between man and man.
[1] _Ba-tá-san_.
One fundamental law is the obligation to pay a debt, whether it be a
blood debt or a material one. A very common axiom says that "there is no
debt that will not be paid"--if not to-day, to-morrow; if not during one
lifetime, during another--for the collection of it will be bequeathed as
a sacred inheritance from father to son, and from son to grandson.
Montano[2] notes with surprise the sacredness in which debts are held,
not only by Manóbos of the Agúsan Valley but by all the numerous tribes
with which he came in contact in his travels around the gulf of Davao. I
noted the same throughout eastern Mindanáo. The Manóbo, when called to
account, will never deny his true indebtedness, and when no further time
is given him, he will satisfy his obligations, even if he has to part
with his personal effects at a nominal value or put himself deeply in
debt to others. He is never considered insolvent. It is true that the
Christianized part of Manóboland is not so punctilious in the settlement
of financial obligations to outsiders (Bisáyas), but this is explained
by the bad feeling that has arisen toward the latter on account of-the
wholesale, fraudulent exploitation carried on in commercial dealings
between them and the Christian Manóbos.
[2] Une mission aux Isles Philippines.
So many references have already been made in previous chapters to the
practice of revenge that it is not necessary to dilate upon it here.
Suffice it to say that it is not only the right but the duty, often
bequeathed by father to son, to obey this stern law. One who would allow
a deliberate breach of his rights to pass without obtaining sufficient
compensation would be looked down upon as a sorry specimen of manhood.
The feeling is so deeply rooted in the heart that the wife may urge her
husband, and the fiancé, her lover, to carry out the law, and the father
may instill into the hearts of his little ones the desire to wreak
vengeance upon their common enemies.
CUSTOMARY LAW
ITS NATURAL BASIS
The intense conservatism of the Manóbo, fostered by the priestly order,
is the basis of the customary law that determines and regulates social
and individual dealings in Manóboland. So strong is this conservatism,
based on a religious principle, that it is believed that any act not
consistent with established customs arouses the resentment of the spirit
world. This feeling exerts so powerful an influence that in many cases a
definite custom is carried out even when a departure from it would be
manifestly to the material advantage of the individual. As has been set
forth before in this monograph, the ridiculously low prices at which
rice is sold in harvest time is a case in point.
The extreme cautiousness and suspiciousness that is such a dominant
feature of Manóbo character tends also to maintain the customary law.
The Manóbo prefers to jog along in the same old way rather than to do
anything unusual, thereby laying himself open to the displeasure of his
fellowmen and to that of the gods.
ITS RELIGIOUS BASIS
The legion of taboos, religious and magic, limits the Manóbo's actions,
in no inconsiderable manner, within fixed and definite rules, the
nonobservance of which would render him responsible for such evil
consequences as might follow. To cite an instance: When I first went
into a region near Talakógon that was considered to belong to a local
deity, my guide cautioned me to avoid certain actions which, he said,
were displeasing to the reigning deity. I asked him what would be the
consequence if harm were to befall him as a result of my failure to
comply with his instructions. He quietly informed me that I would be
responsible to his relatives for any harm which might come to him.
Again if one enters a rice field during harvest time the displeasure of
the goddess of grain is aroused, and the rice is likely to be diminished
in quantity. The transgressor may do all in his power to appease the
offended goddess, but if she refuses to be appeased and permits a
decrease of the supply, not otherwise explainable, he will be held
responsible, and in the due course of events will have to make good the
shortage according to the tenets of customary law.
Another example will show the rigid regulations that custom imposes in
the matter of omens. I started out with a Manóbo of the upper Agúsan for
a point up the Nábok River. At the beginning of our trip the turtle
bird's cry came from a direction directly in front of us--an indication
of impending evil either during the trip or at its termination. My guide
and companion begged me not to proceed, but I managed to convince him
that there was nothing to be feared, so he consented to continue the
trip with me. Now it happened that he had a quantity of loose beads in
his betel-nut knapsack and that a hole was worn in the sack before the
end of the trip, the result being that he lost his beads. He held a
consultation with the chief of the settlement at which we had arrived,
explaining the omen bird's evil cry and the efforts he had made to
persuade me to desist from the trip. It was decided that because of my
failure to follow the directions indicated by the omen bird, I was
responsible for the loss of the beads. On further discussion of the
point it became apparent that I would have had to answer for the life of
my companion, if he had lost it on the trail, for it was intimated to me
that the omen bird's voice had clearly warned us of danger and I was
requested to explain my failure to heed the warning.
The observance of customs for religious reasons suggests an explanation
of many acts that to an outsider seem inexplicable, not to say
unreasonable. The selection of farm sites at considerable distances from
the dwelling, the reluctance to leave the region of one's birth, the
unwillingness to visit remote mountains and similar places, the fear of
doing anything unusual in places thought to be the domain of a
deity--these and numerous other ideas--are to be attributed to the
observance of customary law.
In this connection it may be well to remark that a stranger visiting
remote Manóbo settlements without an introduction or without previous
warning should be very careful, if he desires to deal with these
primitive people in a spirit of friendship, not to break openly and
flagrantly any such regulations, principally religious ones, as may be
pointed out to him. In fact it would be well to ascertain as soon as
possible what is expected of him. I have always made it a point to
announce that I would not be responsible for any evil consequences
attending my violation of customs that I was ignorant of and I have
requested my new friends to acquaint me with such customs and beliefs as
might differ from those of other Manóbo settlements.
PROPRIETARY LAWS AND OBLIGATIONS
CONCEPTION OF PROPERTY RIGHTS
Property rights in the full sense of the word are not only very clearly
understood but very sternly maintained. The Manóbo conception of them is
so high that, with the exception of such things as _camotes_ and other
vegetable products, even gifts must be paid for. And even for such
trifling things as _camotes_, an equivalent in kind is expected at the
option of the donor. During my wanderings I was always in the habit of
making presents as compensation for the food furnished me, and was
frequently asked why I had done so, and why I did not make the
recipients of these presents pay me. No explanation could change the
strong belief that all property of any value, whether given under
contract or not, should be paid for. This principle is further evidenced
by the fact that there is no word in the Manóbo dialect for gift nor is
there any word for thanks. In some places, however, they have a
conception of "alms."[3] On many occasions one of the first requests
made to me by a new acquaintance of some standing was a request for
alms. I am of opinion that this idea was acquired by them from the
universal reports concerning the liberality of the missionaries who from
the middle of the seventeenth century labored in the Agúsan Valley. A
request for alms or for a present of any value is seldom made by one
Manóbo of another, but when it is made it is met by a simple answer, "I
do not owe you anything." That settles the question at once.
[3] _Lí-mos_, probably from the Spanish _limosna_, alms.
My practice of distributing gifts frequently aroused some ill feeling.
For example, on many occasions I was asked by individuals why I had made
presents to so-and-so and not to them. It was necessary in these cases
to explain that I owed a debt of good will to the individuals referred
to and that I would most assuredly give like gifts to others whenever I
should become indebted to them in a similar manner.
LAND AND OTHER PROPERTY
Customary law regarding public land is very simple. Each clan and, in
some cases, one or more individual family chiefs, have districts which
are the collective property of the clan or family. Theoretically this
ownership gives hunting, fishing, agricultural, and other rights to that
clan or family, to the exclusion of others. In practice, however, anyone
who is on good terms with the chief who represents the family or the
clan in question, may occupy a portion of the land without any other
formality than that of mentioning the matter to the proper chief. The
occupation presumes that the occupant is on terms of good will with the
chief, and it never implies that the new occupant is required to pay
anything for the use of the land. With regard to fishing rights,
especially when the fish-poisoning method is employed, it is very often
stipulated that a share of the catch shall be given to the owner. When
the two parties concerned are on good terms, the territory of one may be
used by the other for hunting, apparently without any question.
When the rice-sowing season is at hand, the Manóbo goes over the clan
district and selects any piece of vacant land that, because of its
fertility and closeness to water, may have recommended itself to him
after a due consultation of the omens. Having made the selection, he
formally takes possession of the land by slashing down a few small trees
in a conspicuous place and by parting the top of a small tree stem and
inserting into it at right angles a piece of wood. He then returns to
his settlement and announces his selection. He has become now the owner
of the land. Anyone who might attempt to claim the land would become
cleft, so it is believed, like the parted stem that was left as a proof
of the occupation of the land. In a few cases I saw a broken earthen pot
left on an upright stick. It was explained to me that this, too, was a
symbol of what would befall the one who would dare to dispute the right
to the property. This is another evidence of the widespread belief in
sympathetic magic.
In my travels throughout eastern Mindanáo I never heard of a single
instance of a land dispute among the non-Christian peoples. There is no
reason for dispute because the whole of the interior is an immense and
very sparsely populated forest that could support millions instead of
the scant population which is now scattered through it. Moreover, the
religious element in the selection, the consultation of omens, and the
approval by the unseen world seem to prevent disputes.
From the moment of occupation, then, till the abandonment of the site
the occupant is the sole lawful owner of the land and has full rights to
proprietorship of all that it produces. When he abandons the land he
still retains the ownership of such crops or plants as may be growing on
it. Hence betel-nut palms, betel plants, bananas, and other plants,
belong, to him and to his descendants after him. Even such fugitive
crops as _camotes_ are his until they die off or are destroyed by wild
boars.
Fruit trees, such as durian, jack-fruit, and others growing in the
forest, are, in theory, the collective property of a clan or of a
family, but in practice anyone may help himself. However, the finder
becomes sole and exclusive owner of a bee's nest as soon as he sets up
an indication of his ownership in the form of a split stick with a small
crosspiece, and announces his possessive rights on his return to the
settlement. The parted trunk has a form and significance similar to that
which it has in connection with the selection of a new site. As far as I
know a bee's nest once located by one individual is seldom appropriated
by another, but the theft of palm wine is common enough, especially if
the palm tree be at a considerable distance from the owner's settlement.
All other property that is the result of one's own labor, or that has
been acquired by purchase or in any other customary way, belongs to the
individual, unless he is a slave. Even slaves, captured during war
raids, become the property of their captors, unless stipulation to the
contrary has been made before the raid. In one expedition that took
place in 1907 a certain warrior chief was delegated to punish a
Mañgguáñgan. As an advance payment he received a few bolos and lances,
but it was expressly agreed that after the attack he and his party were
to receive all the slaves captured.
With regard to the loss of, or damage to, property belonging to another,
the customary law is rigid; the damage or the loss must be made good, no
matter how unfortunate may have been the circumstances of the loss. This
will explain the great care that carriers exercise in transporting the
property of others through the mountains, for if by any mischance the
things were to get lost or wet or broken, or damaged in any other way,
they would be required to make good the loss. This custom, as applied in
some cases, may seem somewhat harsh, but it must be remembered that
Manóboland is a land where the law of vengeance prevails, and that no
opportunity to wreak vengeance must be given. Such opportunities would
occur if anyone were permitted to attribute a loss or other accident to
involuntary causes.
This rigid law will explain also the peculiar liability under which one
is sometimes placed for an absolutely unintentional and unforeseen act.
Thus, on a certain occasion, one of my carriers died a few days after my
arrival in a settlement. Shortly after the occurrence of the death I was
confronted by a band of the relatives of the deceased in full panoply
and requested to pay the commercial equivalent of a slave.
On another occasion I ran after a child in play. The child out of fright
rushed into the forest and hid. The same afternoon it was taken with a
violent fever to which it succumbed a few days later. I was not in the
settlement at the time of the death, and was not sorry, for it was
reported to me that the father of the deceased child had said that he
would have killed me. On my return to his settlement a few days later I
visited the father for the purpose of having the case arbitrated. He
broached the subject and demanded three slaves, or their equivalent, in
payment for the death of his child, which was due, he firmly believed
and asseverated, to the scare that I had given it.
Many instances might be adduced to illustrate the peculiar liability
which one undergoes in dealing with these primitive men who follow out
in practice the old fallacy of _post hoc ergo propter hoc_.
LAWS OF CONTRACT
The conception of contract is as universal as the conception of property
rights, but a certain amount of leniency seems to be expected in such
details as fulfilling the terms of the contract on the specified date,
unless it has been expressly and formally agreed that no leniency is to
be looked for. In case of a failure to fulfill the contract at the
stated time it is customary to offer either what is called an
"excuse,"[4] in the form of extra hospitality or a free gift of some
article, not so valuable as to constitute a debt, or to make many
explanations, very frequently fictitious. These remarks apply only to
cases in which the creditor has undergone the hardship of a reasonably
long trip or of other necessary expenditures. Thus, to illustrate the
point, A owes B a pig deliverable, according to agreement, after the
lapse of so many days, there being no express provisions for any penalty
in case of nonfulfillment of the agreement. B goes to A's house and is
treated to a special meal with an accompaniment of drink when
obtainable. Toward the termination of the meal, he is informed by A of
the latter's inability to pay, for numerous real, or more numerous
fictitious, reasons. B accepts this excuse but before leaving asks for
some little thing that he may take a fancy to. It is always given as an
"excuse." Another day for the payment is agreed upon. This leniency may
be displayed on one or more occasions till the delay in paying
exasperates B or renders him liable to loss. Ill feeling arises all the
more readily if B feels that A has not been as assiduous as he should
have been. Then a stringent contract is entered upon, the nonperformance
of which will render A liable to interest or to a fine, as may be
stipulated.
[4] _Ba-lí-bad_.
In cases where serious consequences might result from a failure to
fulfill a contract, it is customary for the contractor and often for the
other party to make a number of knots on a strip of rattan, each knot
signifying a day of the time to elapse before payment, or representing
one article of the goods to be paid for, or one item of the goods to be
delivered.
All more important contracts are made in the presence of witnesses, and
the time and the number of articles to be delivered are counted out on
the floor with grains of corn or with little pieces of wood, or are
indicated by counting a corresponding number of the slats of the floor.
THE LAW OF DEBT
The law of debt in Manóboland is so rigid that failure to comply with it
has given rise to many a bloody feud. All commercial transactions are
conducted on a credit basis. An individual whom we will call A needs a
pig, for instance, and starts out on a quest to secure one. He visits
one of his acquaintances and informally brings up the subject,
remarking, for example, that he would like to buy a certain pig that is
in the settlement. He may not be able to make the purchase until he has
tried several settlements, for it may happen that the owner of each pig
may want in exchange objects that A does not have and is unable to get.
Thus B, the owner of a pig in the first settlement, wants in payment a
Mandáya lance of a certain length, breadth, and make. Now A knows of no
one from whom he can procure such a lance, so he has to go on to the
settlement of C who in exchange for his pig wants five pieces of Mandáya
cloth. A is afraid to take the pig on such terms because the Ihawán
Manóbos are in arms on account of a recent killing, and as the trade
route for Mandáya cloth passes through the territory of the Ihawán
Manóbos he sees no possibility of fulfilling a contract to deliver the
cloth. So off he goes to the settlement of D where he finds a pig for
which the owner demands four yards of blue cloth, two of red, and two of
black, together with a specified quantity of salt. A thinks that it will
be easy for him to run over to some Christian settlement and get those
articles in time to pay D, so he clinches the bargain by putting a
series of knots in a strip of rattan to represent the number of days to
expire before the date of payment. This he delivers to D and the
contract is sealed. He then returns to his settlement with his pig, and
turns it over to some one else perhaps, to whom he owes a pig, or, if it
was intended for a sacrifice, to the family priest or priestess. In due
time it is disposed of with much satisfaction to the gods and to the
inner man. As the day for payment approaches, A must take measures to
get the salt and the cloth for D, so he hastens to the settlement of E,
if sickness in the family, or heavy rains, or some other obstacle does
not prevent him, but finds that E requires a Mandáya bolo for the
articles needed and as A has no such object and sees no immediate
prospect of obtaining it, he goes on to F's. F demands a certain amount
of beeswax and a Mandáya dagger in exchange for the cloth and the salt
and as A feels that he can procure these articles, he closes the
bargain, promising to deliver the goods within so many days or weeks.
A now owes D cloth and salt, payable within 14 days, let us suppose. He
is also under contract to F to furnish him a dagger and a specified
amount of beeswax, also on a specified date. Upon the approach of the
time agreed upon A runs over to F's only to find that F had been unable
to get the cloth and the salt, either because no Bisáya trader has been
up to the Christianized settlement on the river; or because of heavy
rains or for some other reason. The result is that A returns to his
settlement without the cloth and the salt. Upon his arrival at D's or
upon D's arrival at his settlement, as the case may be, he excuses
himself to D, setting forth in detail the reason for his failure. He
treats D as best he can, and fixes another date for the delivery of the
salt and the cloth, the same to be delivered at D's settlement. D
returns to his home without the salt and the cloth and awaits the
delivery.
Now it may happen that, through the fault of A or through the fault of F
or through unforeseen circumstances, A is unable to keep his agreement.
D has made many useless trips to collect from A. It is true that D has
been feasted by A upon every visit but the long delay, and possibly his
debt of salt to someone else, is gradually provoking him. So one day he
speaks somewhat strongly to A, setting a definite term for the payment.
If A is unable to meet his obligations after this ultimatum, or if D
suspects or has proof that A is playing a game, matters become strained
and D has recourse to one of three methods: (1) Collection by armed
intimidation; (2) the _tawágan_ or seizure; (3) war raid.
The last two methods have been sufficiently explained in Chapter XVIII
but the first needs a little explanation.
After all attempts to collect by peaceable means have failed, the
creditor assembles his male relatives and friends and proceeds to the
house of the debtor with all the accoutrements of war. It is customary
to bring along a neutral chief or two from other clans. Upon arriving at
the debtor's house no hostile demonstrations are made. The creditor and
his party enter as if their object were an ordinary visit. Should,
however, the debtor have abandoned his house, this part of the affair
would be at an end, for the creditor would be justified in adopting the
second method (i. e., the seizing of any object, human of other that he
might see), or the third method.
Should his debtor, however, be present, the creditor and his companions
are regaled with betel nut and food and the meeting is perfectly
goodnatured. But gradually the subject of the debt is introduced and
then begins the pandemonium. If the chiefs who have accompanied the
creditor's party have enough moral influence to bring about an
agreement, the matter is settled, but if not, the visiting party may
depart suddenly with yells of menace and defiance, and very frequently
may have recourse to the seizure method, taking on their way home any
object that they may encounter such as a pig, or even a human being.
Hence as soon as it becomes known that no settlement has been made
bamboo joints[5] are blown--the invariable signal in Manóboland of
danger--and everybody goes into armed vigilance. Children and women are
not allowed to leave the house, and pigs are frequently taken from below
and put up in the house until the enraged creditor and his party have
gone.
[5] _Tam-bú-li_.
I was in one place where such a state of things existed. My merchandise
was taken by my host from under the house and carefully hidden upstairs.
I wished to go to meet the collecting party but no one would volunteer
to accompany me.
If an agreement to pay has been brought about, the debtor has to make
the settlement before the departure of his creditor, even though it may
require several days to complete the payment. In this latter case the
sustenance of the visiting party and all their needs fall, by custom,
upon the poor debtor.
Such is the customary method of collecting debts when all peaceable
efforts have been unavailing. To understand the principle involved in
it, as also the circumstances that bring it about, it is necessary to
bear in mind that once the creditor becomes disgusted with the delay of
his debtor in settling the account, he announces his intention to add to
the indebtedness a financial equivalent of all fatigues[6] and expenses
to be subsequently incurred in the collection of the debt. These
fatigues not only include the actual trips made both by himself and such
messengers as he may send to collect the debt, but such incidental
losses, sicknesses, or accidents as may be the outcome of such trips.
[6] _Ka-há-go_.
Another principle recognized in this matter is the liability into which
the debtor may fall for such losses as the creditor may undergo through
his failure to fulfill his obligations to a third person. Thus A owes B
a pig, and B owes C, who in his turn must pay a lance to D at a certain
time. On account of C's failure to deliver the lance in due time to D,
he is, according to a previous contract, mulcted to the equivalent of 15
pesos. Had C been able to purchase a lance with the pig that B owed him
he would, by customary law, be justified in putting the fine of 15 pesos
to B's account. B attributes his failure to A's delay and on the same
grounds, adds 15 pesos to the latter's indebtedness.
It is clear that the principle of liability involved in this system
gives rise to an infinity of disputes that may lead to bloodshed
whenever the matter can not be arbitrated by the more influential men
and chiefs in a public assembly. The debt after a certain time increases
beyond reasonable proportions until it finally becomes so great as to be
beyond the debtor's means. Notwithstanding the sacredness with which the
average Manóbo regards his debts, it happens occasionally that a little
bad feeling springs up which, in the course of time may lead to serious
consequences. It will be readily understood how easy it is for one party
to take umbrage at the words or actions of another and to become
obstinate. Happily, however, this does not happen frequently, on account
of the salutary fear inspired by the lance and the bolo, and the urgent
endeavors of the chiefs and the more influential men to settle matters
amicably. I am surprised that disputes and bloodshed arising from, the
great credit system do not occur more frequently among such primitive
people.
Though in practice the relatives of a debtor assist him to settle his
obligations, especially when he is hard pressed by his creditor, yet in
theory there is no joint obligation to pay the debt. Neither do they, as
a rule, assume a collective responsibility for it.
Between relatives, as between others, the law regarding the payment of a
debt is strenuously maintained, though I know of no case between near
relatives in which it led to more than family bickerings. A very careful
account of the indebtedness of one relative to another is sedulously
kept.
INTEREST, LOANS, AND PLEDGES
INTEREST
No interest is charged unless an express contract is made to that
effect. In the case of a loan of paddy, however, even if no formal
contract has been made, twice as much must be returned as was borrowed.
Express contracts that call for interest are rather rare, as far as my
observation goes, and when such contracts are made they are usually of a
usurious nature, due, as I have noticed on several occasions, not so
much to the desire for material gain, as to that of satisfying an old
grudge against the borrower. In settlements that have had experience
with the usurious methods of Christian natives, one finds here and there
an individual who tries to follow the example set him by people that he
looks up to. This practice is universally discountenanced, and, though
it is submitted to under necessity in commercial dealings with Bisáyas,
it gives rise to no inconsiderable ill feeling, a fact that explains, to
my mind, the difficulties that Bisáyas experience in collecting from
Christianized Manóbos, as also the killing of many a Bisáya in
pre-American days. During my trading tour of 1908 there was universal
complaint made to me by Manóbos of the upper Agúsan, upper Umaíam, and
upper Argáwan Rivers against the system of usury employed by Bisáya
traders, and many a time I heard this remark made concerning certain
individuals: "We would kill him if we were not afraid of the Americans."
LOANS AND PLEDGES
With the exception of articles borrowed on condition that they are to be
returned, loans are very rare in Manóboland. The most usual loan is that
of paddy. Articles borrowed must be returned in as good a condition as
that in which they were received.
I know of no leases among non-Christian Manóbos. Land is too plentiful
to lease; other property is either sold or borrowed.
I have never known a material pledge to be given, but the custom of
going bond seems to be very generally understood though not much
practiced, as such a custom insinuates a distrust that does not seem to
be pleasing to the Manóbo. A notable feature of the practice is the
principle that the _bondsman becomes the payer_. I am inclined to think
that this principle was taught to their mountain compeers by Bisáya and
Christianized Manóbos who found in it a convenient expedient whereby to
make the collection of debts easier and sure. On the strength of it, a
chief or a more well-to-do member of the tribe becomes responsible for
the debt of one whose surety he became.
LAWS OF LIABILITY
LIABILITY ARISING FROM NATURAL CAUSES
The liability here referred to is the general responsibility that a
person acquires for consequences that are imputed to an act of his,
whether voluntary or involuntary. Instances of this strange law arise on
many occasions in Manóboland. The reader is referred to the case of the
loss of the beads, the attempt to collect from me for the natural death
of one of my carriers, for the death of a child that I had frightened,
and other instances mentioned previously, all of which show the idea of
responsibility for consequences following an act. A few more instances
will make the principle involved clearer. On the upper Agúsan, a Manóbo
of Nábuk River went over to Moncáyo to collect a debt. According to
custom he carried his shield and spear. Now it happened that there were
two women walking along the river bank, one of whom was the wife of an
enemy of this Nábuk warrior. Upon seeing him she became frightened, fell
into the river, and was drowned. The result of this was that the Nábuk
man was condemned to pay a slave or its equivalent. As a near relative
of his enemy owed him "thirty" (P30) he transferred the fine to him but
the transference was not accepted on the ground that the Nábuk man ought
to pay his fine first. A few days' discussion of the matter resulted in
the departure of the Nábuk man, who upon his arrival in a near
settlement killed, in his rage, one of his slaves. The outcome of the
whole affair was a feud between Moncáyo and Nábuk.
LIABILITY ARISING FROM RELIGIOUS CAUSES
The violation of the numerous taboos is believed to bring about evil
consequences that are chargeable to the account of the infringer. For
example, a man in Búai was charged 30 pesos for the breaking of a
certain birth taboo, a violation which was supposed to have been
responsible for the stillbirth of a child. I was warned on many
occasions to desist from making disrespectful remarks about animals,
such as monkeys or frogs, because, if Anítan were to hurl her
thunderbolts at one of my companions and harm were to befall him I would
be fined or killed. I would undergo a similar punishment, I was told on
other occasions, for using such tabooed words as crocodile and salt; it
was believed that a storm would be the result of the use of these words.
On one occasion I thought it prudent to give a carrier of mine a piece
of rubber cloth wherewith to cover his salt, for he had threatened to
collect from me if it became wet from the storm that was impending, and
which all my companions imputed to my deliberate use of the names of
certain fish not native to their mountain water.
LIABILITY ARISING FROM MAGIC CAUSES
Another pregnant source of fines and of sanguinary feuds is the belief
in the possession, by certain individuals, of magic power to do harm. No
one that I know of or have heard of, except a few fearless warrior
chiefs, has made open avowal of the possession of such power and yet on
many occasions I have heard of the supposed possession of it by various
individuals. To give an instance, a Manóbo on the upper Agúsan had the
reputation of having secret poisons. One day another Manóbo and his wife
visited him. With the exception of a trifling altercation about a debt,
everything went well. On her return home the woman was suddenly taken
sick and died. Her death was ascribed to the magic power of the person
recently visited and the outcome was that the party with the bad
reputation had to build a tree house, one of the few that I have seen,
and surround his settlement with an abatis of brush and of sharp spikes,
all in anticipation of an attack by the deceased woman's husband.
It was the rule rather than the exception that I, myself, had the same
reputation applied to me. Upon arrival in heretofore unvisited regions I
was fequently[sic] informed that they had heard of my wonderful power of
killing. On many occasions it was only by assuming a bold front and by
vowing vengeance on my traducers that I freed myself from the
imputation. In such cases I always asked for the name of the slanderer,
and, upon learning it, announced my intention of seeking him without
delay, for the purpose of clearing myself from the imputation and of
demanding satisfaction from him.
THE SYSTEM OF FINES
It is not intended here to consider the system of fines as penalties for
voluntary wrongdoings but only as punishments for certain little acts of
forgetfulness or of omission that might be construed as conscious acts
of disrespect. The system is a very strange one and, to our way of
thinking, very harsh, productive sometimes of bad feeling and even of
more serious results.
Instances that have passed under my personal observation will illustrate
the system. Thus, on one occasion an acquaintance of mine left the house
without making his intention known to those present. While he was under
the house, one of the guests happened to spit through the floor upon the
clothes of the man underneath. Upon his return he identified the guilty
one both by his position in the house, and by the quality of the chewing
material he was using. The case was discussed at length and it was
decided that for carelessness the guilty one should make material
reparation in the form of a chicken and some drink.
Again, the dog of a certain individual on the upper Agúsan was guilty of
soiling the clothes of a person that happened to be working under the
house. As the owner of the sick dog (it had been mangled by a wild boar)
had been previously warned of the possibility of something untoward
happening, he was fined and was condemned to make further reparation in
the form of a convivial meeting in order to remove the ill feeling.
Instances of fines that were imposed on me will illustrate the principle
involved. Upon my arrival in new regions I was almost invariably called
upon to pay a certain amount, on the ground that I had had no permission
to enter the settlement, or that the local deities had been displeased
at my visit, or that I was a spy, or for some other reason. The refusal
to pay was always accepted after lengthy explanations and after the
distribution of a few trifling gifts to the more vehement members of the
settlement, but in one case arms were drawn and I had to take my stand
with, back to the wall and await developments.
Other instances in which unintentional disrespect toward the person or
property of anyone was displayed might be adduced to profusion. It will
suffice to say, however, that such acts as the following, even when
unintentional, lay the agent under a liability, the commercial value of
which must be determined by the circumstances and very frequently by
formal arbitration: Spitting upon, or otherwise soiling another; rudely
seizing the person of another; unbecoming treatment of another's
property, especially of his clothes, as when, for instance, one steps
upon another's shirt; opening another's betel-nut knapsack or other
concealed property; borrowing things without formal announcement and due
permission; going into certain places interdicted by the owner, as
bathing, for instance, in that part of a river which the owner has
forbidden the use of,[7] or visiting his rice granary; and using
disrespectful language, even in joke, about another, as, for instance,
speaking of one as an insect, a Mañgguáñgan.[8]
[7] Due, presumably, to the fact that the place, usually a deep pool, is
the abode of a water wraith.
[8] This is a term of reproach when applied to a Manóbo.
These interdictions are necessary among the Manóbos in order that in
their social dealings with one another proper deference may be shown
toward their person and property. For were a mere "pardon me" a
sufficient reparation for an act, however unintentional, advantage might
be taken of it to inflict a thousand and one little incivilities that
would serve to arouse the relentless spirit of revenge that centuries of
feuds have instilled into the Manóbo character.
CHAPTER XX
POLITICAL ORGANIZATION: CUSTOMS REGULATING DOMESTIC RELATIONS AND FAMILY
PROPERTY; PROCEDURE FOR THE ATTAINMENT OF JUSTICE
FAMILY PROPERTY
The property of a Manóbo family is so scanty that the rules governing it
have never developed beyond a primitive stage. The house belongs
collectively to the father and to such of his sons-in-law and
brothers-in-law as may have constructed it. The structure represents
little value to the owner except that of the rough-hewn boards which may
be transported to another place. The reason that such cheap houses are
built is that they may be abandoned without much loss at any moment that
a death, or even a suspicion of danger, arising from religious or from
natural reasons, may dictate.
The movable property in the house belongs to the individuals who have
made, purchased, or in any other lawful way acquired it. In this respect
it is to be noted that each married couple provides itself with
household utensils and such other things as may be necessary. These
things do not become the property of the head of the family, but remain
the individual property of the person who brings them.
It must be noted, too, that women, children, and slaves have
theoretically no right to ownership. It is true that women are allowed
to dispose of the products of their labor like rice and cloth, but
usually, if not always, the consent of their husbands or of their
husbands' nearest male relatives is first secured if the article is of
much value. Frequently a consultation is held with the head of the whole
household.
RULES OF INHERITANCE
When a man dies and leaves no near relatives that are of sufficient age
to manage the inheritance, the elder brother-in-law inherits the
property. The deceased brother's wife is a part of this property. When
the father dies, the son is the heir, and, if of sufficient age and
capabilities, takes the place of his father. But should he be deemed
incompetent by his near male relatives, his paternal uncle, or, if he
has none, a brother-in-law, becomes the manager of the household. Any
property which may be of value is thus retained within the line of male
descent. This is in accordance with the principles of the patriarchate
system which prevails in Manóboland.
The eldest son inherits his father's debts, but the administrator (if in
such unpretentious matters we may use so pretentious a word) pays the
debts collecting in turn from the son unless he be a near kinsman of the
deceased father. About matters of inheritance I have never even heard of
a dispute. The valuable property may consist of only a lance and a bolo,
or a dagger, and a few jars. The best suit of clothes together with
personal adornments, such as necklaces, are carried with the deceased to
his last resting place so that there is little left to quarrel over.
With the exception of the few heirlooms, if there be any, consisting of
a jar and some few other things, the greatest fear is entertained of
articles that belonged to the departed one. This fear is due to the
peculiar belief in the subtle, wayward feeling of the departed toward
the living.
RULES GOVERNING THE RELATIONS OF THE SEXES
MORAL OFFENSES
In the chapter on marriage the general principles governing the
relations of the sexes is set forth. The relations both antenuptial and
postnuptial are of the most stringent character.
As a Manóbo once told me, sexual morality is bound up with religion and
the greater violations of it are sometimes punished by the divinities.