STRANGE STORIES.--THE WISE OLD WOMEN.--THE WALKING LEAVES.--THE HAUNTED
SANDALWOOD TREES.--THE EMPEROR OF CHINA.--THE LITTLE BOY AND THE GIANT
BIRD.
Pigafetta was no Munchausen, but he had a love of marvelous stories, and
there never was a voyage that offered to a European a greater number of
curious events and superstitions. Some of the incidents that excited our
Chevalier's wonder were natural events which have been since explained.
The superstitious legends of the people were, however, for the most part
but the growth of folklore through the imagination.
One of these accounts relates to the wise old women who prepared the
sacrifices of the wild boar as offerings to the sun. It shows how small
may be the real meaning of pompous and pretentious ceremonies. The rites
took place in the Philippines.
Says Pigafetta in his narrative prepared for the Grand Master of the
Knight of Rhodes:
"Since I have spoken of the idols, it may please your illustrious
Highness to have an account of the ceremony with which, in this island,
they bless the pig. They begin by sounding some great drums (tamburi);
they then bring three large dishes; two are filled with cakes of rice
and cooked millet rolled up in leaves, with roast fish; in the third are
Cambay cloths and two strips of palm cloth. A cloth of Cambay is spread
out on the ground; then two old women come, each of whom has in her hand
a reed trumpet. They step upon the cloth and make an obeisance to the
sun; they then clothe themselves with the above-mentioned cloths. The
first of these puts on her head a handkerchief which she ties on her
forehead so as to make two horns, and taking another handkerchief in her
hand, dances and sounds her trumpet and invokes the sun.
"The second old woman takes one of the strips of palm cloth and dances,
and also sounds her trumpet; thus they dance and sound their trumpets
for a short space of time, saying several things to the sun. The first
old woman then drops the handkerchief she has in her hand and takes the
other strip of cloth, and both together sounding their trumpets, dance
for a long time round the pig which is bound on the ground. The first
one always speaks in a low tone to the sun, and the second answers her.
So the sun and the two old women had a luminous partnership.
"The second old woman then presents a cup of wine to the first, who,
while they both continue their address to the sun, brings the cup four
or five times near the mouth as though going to drink, and meanwhile
sprinkles the wine on the heart of the pig. She then gives up the cup,
and receives a lance which she brandishes, while still dancing and
reciting, and four or five times directs the lance at the pig's heart;
at last, with a sudden and well-aimed blow, she pierces it through and
through. She withdraws the lance from the wound, which is then closed
and dressed with herbs.
"During the ceremony a torch is always burning, and the old woman who
pierced the pig takes and puts it out with her mouth; the other old
woman dips the end of her trumpet in the pig's blood, and with it marks
with blood the forehead of her husband and of her companion, and then of
the rest of the people. But they did not come and do this to us.
"That done the old women took off their robes and ate what was in the
two dishes, inviting only women to join them. After that they get the
hair off the pig with fire. Only old women are able to consecrate the
boar, and this animal is never eaten unless it is killed in this
manner."
Pigafetta saw wonderful things in Borneo, among them a wild boar whose
head was two and a half spans long, and oysters as large as turtles. He
says that the flesh of one of these oysters weighed forty-five pounds.
But the thing there which probably must have most greatly excited his
curiosity was the _walking leaves_. There were certain trees on the
islands that had very animated leaves. When one of these leaves fell
from the tree, it did not lie where it fell, to rot or to be shuffled by
the winds, but it lifted itself up and walked away.
Here was a sight indeed to make the young Italian fly to his memoranda
book, which he did.
Other travelers later saw the same curious thing, but they examined the
miracle more closely than the credulous Chevalier. They found that the
leaves were moved by an insect that lived inside of them, like the
Mexican bean, which is used as a toy, and will jump about a table.
The islands of the Indian Ocean abound in sandalwood. Of the sandal
trees Pigafetta heard other curious legends. One of them tells us that
when the people of the Timor went out to cut sandalwood, the devil
appeared to them, and demanded them to bargain with him for the wood.
This they did, for those who cut the wood are otherwise likely to fall
sick; a poisonous miasma is exhaled from the wounded wood.
Pigafetta heard also marvelous tales of the Emperor of China, who seemed
to live amid human walls. There may be some truths in these incidents;
if so, what a remarkable condition must have been that of the Chinese
court four hundred years ago!
He says:
"The kingdom of Cocchi lies next; its sovereign is named Raja Seri
Bummipala. After that follows Great China, the king of which is the
greatest sovereign of the world, and is called Santoa Raja. He has
seventy crowned kings under his dependence; and some of these kings have
ten or fifteen lesser kings dependent on them. The port of this kingdom
is named Guantan, and among the many cities of this Empire, two are the
most important, namely, Nankin and Comlaha, where the King usually
resides.
"He has four of his principal ministers close to his palace, at the four
sides looking to the four cardinal winds; that is, one to the west, one
to the east, to the south, and to the north. Each of these gives
audience to those that come from his quarter. All the kings and lords of
India major and superior obey this King, and in token of their
vassalage, each is obliged to have in the middle of the principal palace
of his city the marble figure of a certain animal named Chinga, an
animal more valuable than the lion; the figure of this animal is also
engraved on the King's seal, and all who wish to enter his port must
carry the same emblem in wax or ivory.
"If any lord is disobedient to him, he is flayed, and his skin, dried in
the sun, salted, and stuffed, is placed in an eminent part of the public
place, with the head inclined and the hands on the head in the attitude
of doing zongu; that is obeisance to the King.
"He is never visible to anybody; and if he wishes to see his people he
is carried about the palace on a peacock most skillfully manufactured
and very richly adorned, with six ladies dressed exactly like himself,
so that he can not be distinguished from them. He afterward passes into
a richly adorned figure of a serpent called Naga, which has a large
glass in the breast, through which he and the ladies are seen, but it is
not possible to distinguish which is the King. He marries his sisters in
order that his blood should not mix with that of others.
"His palace has seven walls around it, and in each circle there are
daily ten thousand men on guard, who are changed every twelve hours at
the sound of a bell. Each wall has its gate, with a guard at each gate.
At the first stands a man with a great scourge in his hand, named
Satuhoran with satubagan; at the second, a dog called Satuhain; at the
third, a man with an iron mace, called Satuhoran with pocumbecin; at the
fourth, a man with a bow in his hand, called Saturhoran with anatpanan;
at the fifth, a man with a lance, called Satuhoran with tumach; at the
sixth, a lion, called Saturhorimau; at the seventh, two white elephants,
called Gagiapute.
"The palace contains seventy-nine halls, in which dwell only the ladies
destined to serve the King; there are always torches burning there. It
is not possible to go round the palace in less than a day. In the upper
part of it are four halls where the ministers go to speak to the King;
one is ornamented with metal, both the pavement and the walls; another
is all of silver, another all of gold, and the other is set with pearls
and precious stones. The gold and other valuable things which are
brought as tribute to the King are placed in these rooms; and when they
are there deposited, they say, 'Let this be for the honor and glory of
our Santoa Raja.' All these things and many others relating to this
King, were narrated to us by a Moor, who said that he had seen them."
A palace of seven walls, seventy-nine halls, and ten thousand men on
guard! A hall of silver, another of gold, and one of precious stones! It
took a day to encompass it. We may well wonder how much of truth there
was in this brief Oriental story!
When the adventurers came to Java they heard some tales that were
marvelous, and that quite equaled those which Queen Scheherezade of the
Arabian Nights told of Sinbad the Sailor.
One of these fabulous stories, told them by a pilot, had an Oriental
charm and coloring. It was of a giant bird, like the roc of the Arabian
Nights.
According to this fanciful legend which we give with some freedom, there
was a land called Java Major on the north of the Gulf of China, where
grew an enormous tree, seemingly as big as a mountain--one of the
greatest trees in all the world. In this tree, which might have shaded a
hill, lived a colony of birds, with wings like clouds, so broad and
powerful that they could lift an elephant or a buffalo into the air and
bear him away to the mountainous tree. The fruit of this tree was larger
than the largest melons.
There were Moors on the ship where this story of the great tree and the
great bird was told. One of them said:
"I have _seen_ the great bird with my own eyes!"
Another Moor said:
"One of the birds was once captured, and sent as a present to the King
of Siam!"
An account of the capture of such a bird would have been very
interesting!
There were great whirlpools around the mountainous tree. So that no ship
could approach within three or four leagues of it.
But once, according to the legend, some adventurous sailors sailed near
the great tree. They had a little boy on board their boat, and he must
have surveyed the giant of the forest with wonder.
They sailed too near, for presently their boat began to go round and
round, and they found themselves in the power of the whirlpool.
Round and round went the junk until it struck against a rock, and all
on board perished, except the little boy, who was supple.
This child caught a plank and held on to it. He was carried hither and
thither among the eddies and breakers, but he found himself drawing
nearer and nearer the great tree. At last he was cast on shore at the
foot of the tree.
"Here must be my home," said he, for he thought he never could get away
again. No boat could come to him, and _he_ could not fly.
The tree had great masses of bark, so that he could climb up into it. He
mounted up to its high limbs. He could not starve, for the fruit of such
a tree must have been sufficient to have supplied a colony.
So cast away on the tree, he here expected to live and to die.
Toward sunset great wings like clouds darkened the shining air. The
birds were coming home to-night in the tree. Their nests were there as
big as houses.
They settled down, causing a great wind, and put their great heads under
their wings and went to sleep.
The boy was bright, and a plan of getting away from the tree came to
him. He reasoned that if he could not fly the bird could, and what would
be the weight of a little boy to a bird who could carry away an
elephant?
So he marked the largest and most powerful bird with his eye, and crept
up to it and got under his wing, and into his great feathers.
The bird was asleep and did not wake!
Morning came, and with the first red dawn, as we may fancy, the bird
threw up his head and begun to stir. He lifted himself up and shook
himself, but he did not shake off the boy, who was safely nestled among
the little forest of its feathers.
The sun was brightening the islands, and the bird mounted up and flew
away in search of food, carrying the little boy under his wing.
After traversing the sunrise air for a long time, the bird flew over a
land of buffaloes.
He here descended to capture a buffalo, to bear him away to the
mountainous tree for food. As he alighted on the back of the buffalo
with a wild scream of delight, the little boy dropped out from under his
wing, and so found his way to his own island.
It was the little boy that told this large story, quite like Sinbad's.
There were found mysterious fruits floating on the sea, which were
supposed to have fallen from the tree.
"I have seen the bird myself," said a third Moorish pilot, and with the
testimony of the little boy, and the three pilots and the floating
fruit, this story ought to be as trustworthy as the one of Sinbad the
Sailor.
The voyage back to the Cape of Good Hope and thence to the Cape Verde
Islands was one for strange reflections. Del Cano now was the leader of
the returning mariners. The expedition had gone out from the port of
Seville amid shouting quays and towers, with some two hundred and
seventy men. Only one ship was returning and she was bringing home
hardly as many men as composed her own crew.
We can imagine Del Cano on deck, with the lantern of Magellan still
swinging above him, talking with his officers on a tropical night off
the African coast.
"Magellan has found an unknown grave," we may hear him say.
"But humanity will mourn for him, and honor him, and the grave matters
not," answers a padre.
"We shall never see Mesquita again," continues Del Cano.
"We can not be sure," replies the padre. "We can know nothing that we do
not see."
"We surely shall never meet Carthagena again. I can see in my memory
those last biscuits and bottles of wine. He needs none of them now."
"He may have them all," answers the padre.
"We are yet rich in spices. We shall surprise the world when we drop
anchor at Seville."
"And Seville may have surprises for us," says the hopeful padre.
They drifted on under favoring airs. The soul of Del Cano was lost to
common events in the wonderful revelations of the sea. Should he reach
Seville, he would be the living hero of the most marvelous voyage ever
made by any mariner.
Such were the scenes and tales that crowded upon the mind of Pigafetta,
who wished "to see the wonders of the world." The story of the Emperor
of China's palace is associated with objects so marvelous that the
meaning of their names is lost to-day.