Early start.--Pine forest.--Vegetation.--Rest at Amugan.--The
_gansa_.--Boné.
We set out next morning at five-thirty. Our journey so far, that is,
since we mounted, had taken us over a preliminary range, and now we
began a more serious climb. The morning was delightfully fresh and
cool, with promise of a fine blazing sun later. Far ahead and above
us on the skyline, we could see a cut in the forest where our trail
crossed the divide. But that was miles away, and in the meantime we
were ascending a lovely valley, pines, grass, and bright red soil. It
was delicious that morning, riding under the pines.
"Pinea brachia cum trepidant,
Audio canticulum zephyri!"
And part of the pleasure was due to the fact that we had an
unobstructed view in all directions, usually not the case in the
tropical forest. At one point we had a full view of Arayat, at another
of Santo Tomás, near which we had passed yesterday on coming down from
Baguío. But fine as were the distant views we got from time to time,
the great attraction was the country itself, through which we were
passing. Barring the total absence of any sign of man, it might have
been taken for Japan, in the neighborhood of Miyanoshita, without,
however, any trace of Japanese atmosphere.
The valley was steep-walled, narrow and twisting, at one point closed
by a single enormous rock nearly three hundred feet high--in fact,
a conical hill rising right out of the floor of the valley, and
apparently leaving just room for the stream to pass on one side.
A curious fact was that while the mountains were decidedly
northern-looking as to flora, yet the groins, wherever possible, were
thoroughly tropical. For in these water runs off but slowly, with
consequent richness of vegetation. And yet, on the other side of the
divide which we were now approaching not a pine could be seen, but,
on the contrary, the typical tropical forest in full development. The
watershed, our skyline, was an almost absolute dividing-mark. At any
rate, there the pines stopped short.
At the divide we crossed from Pangasinán into Nueva Vizcaya. And with
the crossing began the forest just mentioned, and a long descent for
us. Our immediate destination was Amugan, our first rest halt. It
is of absolutely no use to try to describe this part of the trip. If
the confusion of trees, vines, orchids, tree ferns, foliage plants,
creepers, was bewildering, so was the impression produced. But we saw
many examples of the most beautiful begonia in existence, in full
blossom, gorgeous spheres of dark scarlet hanging above and around
us. According to Mr. Worcester, all attempts to transplant it have
failed. Its blossoms would be sometimes twenty and thirty feet in
the air. Nothing could exceed the glory of these masses of flowers,
sometimes a foot and more in diameter, as projected by the rays of
the early morning sun against the dark green background, the whole
glistening and dripping in the rain-like dew. Tree ferns abounded;
we passed one that must have been over sixty feet high. At one halt
the ground about was aflame with yellow orchids, growing out of the
ground. And there was one plant that I recognized myself, unaided,
the wild tomato, a little thing of eight or nine inches, but holding
up its head with all the rest of them. As always, on this trip,
however, it was the splendor of the country that held the attention,
the wild incoherent mountain masses thrown together apparently without
order or system, buttressed peaks, mighty flanks riven to the core
by deep valleys, radiating spurs, re-entrant gorges, the limit of
vision filled by crenellated ranges in all the serenity of their
distant majesty. And then, as our trail wound in and out, different
aspects of the same elements would present themselves, until really
the faculty of admiration became exhausted. And so on down we went,
to be greeted as we neared Amugan by a sound of tom-toms; it was a
party that had come out to welcome us, carrying the American flag and
beating the _gansa_ (tom-tom) by way of music. The _gansa_, made of
bronze, in shape resembles a circular pan about twelve or thirteen
inches in diameter, with a border of about two inches turned up at
right angles to the face. On the march it is hung from a string and
beaten with a stick. At a halt it is beaten with the open hand.
After crossing a coffee plantation, we reached a little settlement,
where we off-saddled and took a bite after six hours' riding. The
half-dozen houses of this tiny village are of the usual Filipino type,
and the very few inhabitants were dressed after the fashion of the
Christianized provinces. Nevertheless, we here first encountered the
savage we had come up to see; for not only did they have the _gansa_,
but they offered us a _cañao_. This is a feast of which we shall
have splendid examples later on, with dancing, beating of _gansas_,
drinking and so on, and the sacrifice of a pig.
Here the affair was to be much smaller, all the elements being absent
except the pig and drums. We had noticed as we dismounted a pig tied
to a post and evidently in a very uneasy frame of mind, and justly,
for, although the honor of a _cañao_ was declined, on account of
the length of the ceremony and of the distance we had yet to go,
still they were resolved upon the death of the pig. He, however, at
the same time had made up his mind to escape, and by a mighty effort
broke his tether, and got off; but in vain, for after a short but
exciting chase he was caught and then, an incision having been made in
his belly, a sharpened stick was inserted and stirred about until his
insides were thoroughly mixed, when he died. We left them cleaning and
scraping and dividing, and beating two drums, about four feet long,
eight inches in diameter, covered with leather at one end. These are
beaten with the open hand, the performer sitting on the ground with
the instrument coming up over his left thigh, and produce a muffled
and melancholy note. Mr. Forbes had some notion of buying one of
them, but was told he would be simply wasting his time, both _gansas_
and drums having an extraordinary value in the eye of their owners.
We moved on, gradually descending, rested at Santa Fé, a rest-house
and nothing else, for two or three hours, and then turned north,
following an affluent of the Magat River, by an old and poor trail,
the new one having been washed out for three hundred yards some two
or three miles ahead. And after dark we made Boné, our resting-place
for the night.