that, the man cared for nothing except to be with his wife. He did not
even care to eat. He threw out of the house all the food they had,--the
rice, the sugarcane, the bananas, and all of their other things. He
threw them far away. But after they had taken no food for several
days, the man and the woman began to grow thin and weak. Still they
did not try to get food, because they wanted only to gratify their
passion [110] for each other. At last both of them got very skinny,
and finally they died.
CHAPTER III
Folk-Lore of the Buso
How to See the Buso
The Buso live in the great branching trees and in the graveyard. The
night after a person has been buried, the Buso dig up the body with
their claws, and drink all the blood, and eat the flesh. The bones they
leave, after eating all the flesh off from them. If you should go to
the graveyard at night, you would hear a great noise. It is the sound
of all the Buso talking together as they sit around on the ground,
with their children playing around them. You cannot see the Buso;
but if you do get a glimpse of one of them, it is only for a few
minutes. He looks like a shadow.
In the beginning, everybody could see the Buso, because then the Buso
and the people were friendly together. Nobody died in those days,
for the Buso helped the men, and kept them from dying. But many years
ago the Buso and man had a quarrel, and after that nobody could see
the Buso any more.
Now, there is one way to see Buso; but a man must be very brave to
do it. While the coffin for a dead man is being made, if you cut some
chips from it and carry them to the place where the tree was felled for
the box, and lay the chips on the stump from which the wood was cut,
and then go again on the night of the funeral to the same place, you
will see Buso. Stand near the stump, and you will see passing before
you (1) a swarm of fireflies; (2) the intestines of the dead person;
(3) many heads of the dead person; (4) many arms of the dead person;
(5) many legs of the dead person; (6) the entire body passing before
you; (7) shadows flitting before you; and finally (8) the Buso. But
no one yet has been brave enough to try it.
"But one thing I did when my uncle died," said my boy informant. "I
chipped a piece of wood from the coffin, and tied it to a long string,
like a fly to a fish-hook. This I let down between the slats of the
floor, as I stood in the room where the dead body lay, and I held
the line dangling. As a fish catches at the bait, so Buso seized that
bit of wood, and for about two minutes I could feel him pulling at it
from under the house. Then I drew up the string with the wood. Buso
was there under the house, and smelt the chip from the coffin."
Buso and the Woman
In a little house there lived a man and his wife together. One night,
after they had been married for a long time, the man told his wife
that he would like to go fishing.
"Oh, yes! my husband," said the woman eagerly. "Go, and bring me some
nice fish to-morrow, so that we can have a good meal."
The man went out that same night to fish. And his wife was left alone
in the house.
In the night, while her husband was away, the Buso came, and tried
to pass himself off as her husband, saying, "You see I am back. I
got no fish, because I was afraid in the river." Then the Buso-man
made a great fire, and sat down by it.
But the woman did not believe that it was her husband. So she hid
her comb in a place on the floor, and she said to her comb, "If the
Buso calls me, do you answer. Tell him that I have run away because
I have great fear of the Buso."
Then, when the Buso called, the Comb answered just as the woman
had told it. By and by the Buso went away. In the morning, the man
came back from fishing, because daylight had come. And he had a fine
catch of fish. Then the woman told him all that had happened, and the
man never again let his wife sleep alone in the house. After that,
everything went well; for Buso was afraid of the man, and never again
attempted to come there.
The Buso's Basket
Two children went out into the field to tend their rice-plants. They
said these words to keep the little birds away from the grain:--
"One, one, maya-bird, [111]
Yonder in the north;
Keep off from eating it,
This my rice."
Just then they heard the sound of a voice, calling from the great
pananag-tree, [112] "Wait a minute, children, until I make a basket
for you."
"What is that?" said the boy to his sister.
"Oh, nothing!" answered the little girl. "It's the sound of something."
Then the children called to their father and mother; but only from
the pananag-tree the answer came, "Just wait till I finish this basket
to hold you in."
Down, then, from the tree came the great Buso, with a big, deep basket
(such as women carry bananas and camotes [113] in) hanging from his
shoulders. The frightened children did not dare to run away; and Buso
sat down near by in the little hut where the rice was kept. Soon he
said to the children, "Please comb out my nice hair."
But, when they tried to comb his hair, they found it swarming with
big lice and worms.
"Well, let's go on now," said the Buso. Then he stuffed the children
into his deep burden-basket, and swung the basket upon his back.
On the instant the little girl screamed out, "Wait a minute, Buso! I've
dropped my comb. Let me down to pick it up."
So the Buso sat down on the ground, and let the girl climb out of
the basket. He sat waiting for her to find her comb; but all the time
she was picking up big stones, and putting them into the basket. Her
brother got out of the basket too, and then both girl and boy climbed
up into a tall betel-nut tree, [114] leaving Buso with a basket full
of stones on his back.
Up to his house in the pananag-tree went Buso with the heavy
basket. When his wife saw him, she laughed and shouted very loud. She
was glad, because she thought there was a man in the basket, all ready
to eat. But, when Buso slipped the basket down from his shoulders,
there was no human flesh in it, but only big stones.
Then the angry Buso hurried back to look for the two children. At last
he caught sight of them far up in the betel-nut tree, and wondered how
he could get them. Now, at the foot of the tree there was a growth
of the wild plant called "bagkang;" and Buso said words to make the
bagkang grow faster and taller:--
"Tubu, tubu, bagkang,
Grow, grow, bagkang,
Baba, baba mamaa'n." [115]
Handle, handle, betel-nut.
But the children, in their turn, said:--
"Tubu, tubu, mamaa'n,
Grow, grow, betel-nut,
Baba, baba bagkang."
Handle, handle, bagkang.
By and by, when the bagkang-stems had grown so tall as almost to reach
the clusters of betel-nuts at the top of the trunk, the boy and girl
said to each other. "Let us pick betel-nuts, and throw them down on
the bagkang."
And as soon as they began to pick, the betel-nuts became so big and
heavy that the bagkang-plants fell down when the betel-nuts dropped
on them.
Then the Buso went away; and the children climbed down in haste,
ran home, and told their mother and father how the Buso had tried to
carry them off.
The Buso-Child
Datu Ayo was a great man among the Bagobo, well known throughout the
mountain-country for his bravery and his riches. He had gathered in
his house many products of Bagobo workmanship in textiles and brass and
fine weapons. At his death, human sacrifices of slaves were offered up
for him. It was not many years ago that he went down to the great city
of the dead, and many of his children and grandchildren are living
now. His sons like to think about their father's renown; and, as a
reminder, the eldest son, Kawayun, always kept in his medicine-case
two of the incisor teeth of the great Ayo, until he needed money,
and sold the medicine-case with its contents. It had made Kawayun
happy to look at his father's teeth.
When Datu Ayo died, his wife was about to become a mother. Now,
the Bagobo women know that, when they become pregnant, they must be
very careful to protect themselves from the evil Buso. On going to
bed at night, an expectant mother places near her the woman's knife
(gulat), the kampilan, [116] and all the other knives, to frighten
Buso away. Failing this, the Buso will come to the woman while she
sleeps, and change her baby into a Buso-child. One night, the wife
of Datu Ayo lay down to sleep without putting any knives near her;
and that very night the Buso came, and he transformed her child into
a Buso-child. She did not know when he came, nor did she even think
that a Buso had been near her, until her baby was born.
Everybody around the woman at the birth saw that something was the
matter with the child. It was little and frail, and as weak as threads
of cotton. Its body was flat, and its legs and arms were helpless
and flabby. Then all the men said, "That is a Buso-child."
As the little boy grew old enough to creep, he moved just like a fish,
with a sort of wriggling motion. He could not stand on his feet,
for his legs were too weak to support his body; and he could not sit
down, but only lie flat. He could never be dressed in umpak [117]
and saroa'r, [118] and his body remained small and puny.
Now the boy is more than fourteen years old, but he cannot walk a
step. He understands very well what is said to him, and he can talk,
though not distinctly. When he hears it said that somebody is dead,
he breaks into laughter, and keeps on laughing. This trait alone
would stamp him as a Buso-child.
The Buso-Monkey
One day a man went out, carrying seventeen arrows, to hunt monkeys;
but he found none. Next day he went again, and, as he walked along
on the slope of the mountain called Malagu'san, he heard the sound of
the chattering of monkeys in the trees. Looking up, he saw the great
monkey sitting on an aluma'yag-tree. He took a shot at the monkey, but
his arrow missed aim; and the next time he had no better luck. Twice
eight he tried it; but he never hit the mark. The monkey seemed to
lead a charmed life. Finally he took his seventeenth and last arrow,
and brought down his game; the monkey fell down dead. But a voice
came from the monkey's body that said, "You must carry me."
So the man picked up the monkey, and started to go back home; but
on the way the monkey said, "You are to make a fire, and eat me up
right here."
Then the man laid the monkey on the ground. Again came the voice,
"You will find a bamboo to put me in; by and by you shall eat me."
Off went the man to find the bamboo called laya, letting the monkey
lie on the ground, where he had dropped it.
He walked on until he reached a forest of bamboo. There, swinging
on a branch of the laya, was a karirik-bird. And the bird chirped to
the man, "Where are you going?"
The man answered, "I am looking for bamboo to put the monkey in."
But the karirik-bird exclaimed, "Run away, quick! for by and by the
monkey will become a buso. I will wait here, and be cutting the laya;
then, when the monkey calls you, I will answer him."
In the mean time the monkey had become a great buso. He had only one
eye, and that stood right in the middle of his forehead, looking just
like the big bowl called langungan (the very bad buso have only one
eye; some have only one leg).
After the Buso-monkey had waited many hours for the man to come back,
he started out to look for him. When he reached the forest of laya,
he called to the man, "Where are you?"
Then the karirik-bird answered from the tree, "Here I am, right here,
cutting the bamboo."
But the man had run away, because the bird had sent him off, and made
him run very fast.
As soon as the bird had answered the Buso, it flew off to another
bamboo-tree, and there the Buso spied it, and knew that he had been
fooled; and he said, "It's a man I want; you're just a bird. I don't
care for you."
Directly then the Buso began to smell around the ground where the
man had started to run up the mountain-side, and, as quick as he
caught the scent, he trailed the man. He ran and ran, and all the
time the man was running too; but soon the Buso began to gain on
him. After a while, when the Buso had come close upon him, the man
tried to look for some covert. He reached a big rock, and cried out,
"O rock! will you give me shelter when the Buso tries to eat me?"
"No," replied the rock; "for, if I should help you, the Buso would
break me off and throw me away."
Then the man ran on; and the Buso came nearer and nearer, searching
behind every rock as he rushed along, and spying up into every tree,
to see if, perchance, the man were concealed there.
At last the man came to the lemon-tree called kabayawa, that has
long, sharp thorns on its branches. And the man cried out to the
lemon-tree, "Could you protect me, if I were to hide among your leaves
and flowers?"
Instantly the lemon-tree answered, "Come right up, if you want
to." Then the man climbed the tree, and concealed himself in the
branches, among the flowers. Very soon the Buso came under the
lemon-tree, and shouted to it, "I smell a man here. You are hiding
him."
The Kabayawa said, "Sure enough, here's a man! You just climb up and
get him."
Then the Buso began to scramble up the tree; but as he climbed, the
thorns stuck their sharp points into him. The higher he climbed, the
longer and sharper grew the thorns of the tree, piercing and tearing,
until they killed the Buso.
It is because the monkey sometimes turns into a Buso that many Bagobo
refuse to eat monkey. But some of the mountain Bagobo eat monkey to
keep off sores.
How the Moon Tricks the Buso [119]
The Moon is a great liar. One night long ago, the Buso looked over
the earth and could not discover any people, because everybody was
asleep. Then Buso went to the Moon, and asked her where all the people
were to be found.
"Oh, you will not find a living person on the earth!" replied the
Moon. "Everybody in the world is dead."
"Good!" thought Buso. "To-morrow I shall have a fine meal of them."
Buso never eats living flesh, only dead bodies.
Next morning, Buso started for the graveyard; but on the way he met
the Sun, and stopped to speak to him.
"How about the men on earth?" he questioned.
"They're all right," said the Sun. "All the people are working and
playing and cooking rice."
The Buso was furious to find himself tricked. That night he went
again to the Moon and asked for the men, and, as before, the Moon
assured him that everybody was dead. But the next morning the Sun
showed him all the people going about their work as usual. Thus the
Buso has been fooled over and over again. The Moon tells him every
night the same story.
The Buso and the Cat
The cat is the best animal. She keeps us from the Buso. One night the
Buso came into the house, and said to the cat, "I should like to eat
your mistress."
"I will let you do it," replied the cat; "but first you must count
all the hairs of my coat."
So the Buso began to count. But while he was counting, the cat kept
wriggling her tail, and sticking up her back. That made her fur stand
up on end, so that the Buso kept losing count, and never knew where
he left off. And while the Buso was still trying to count the cat's
hairs, daylight came.
This is one reason why we must not kill the cat. If a Bagobo should
kill a cat, it would make him very sick. He would get skinny, and
die. Some Bagobo have been known to kill the cat; but they always
got sick afterwards.
How a Dog Scared the Buso
The Tigbanua' are the worst of all the Buso; they want to be
eating human flesh all the time. They live in great forests,--in
the pananag-tree, in the magbo-tree, in the baliti-tree, and in
the liwaan-tree.
One day a man went out to hunt, and he took his dog with him. On
his way to the woods, he speared a very little pig. By the time he
reached the great forest, night had come. He made a little shelter,
and kindled a fire. Then he cleaned the pig and cut it into pieces,
and tied three sticks of wood together, and placed them on two upright
pieces of wood stuck in the ground. On this paga he laid the pig-meat
to broil over the flames.
By and by he got very sleepy, and thought he would go under the shelter
and take a nap. But just then he heard voices up in the big trees. He
listened, and heard the Tigbanua' talking to one another.
The Tigbanua' that lives in the liwaan-tree called out to the Tigbanua'
that lives in the pananag-tree, "The mighty chief of all the Tigbanua',
who lives in the sigmit-tree, gives this command to his people: 'Don't
make fun of the man, because he has been here many times before.' "
And right there, under the trees, the man, standing by his dog, was
listening to the talk of the Buso. The dog was sleeping near the fire,
and he was as big as the calf of a carabao. Very quietly his master
spread his own sleeping-tunic (kisi) over the dog, and crept away,
leaving him asleep in the warm place. The man hid in the shelter,
and waited.
Presently many of the Tigbanua' began coming down from the trees,
for some of them did not give obedience (paminug) to their Datu. They
gathered around the fire, and sat down. By and by, as they sat near
the fire, the penis (tapo) of every one of the Tigbanua' began to
grow bigger and bigger (lanag-lanag). All at once, the Tigbanua'
caught sight of the tunic spread out, and showing the form of a huge
head and body under it. They all thought it was the man; and they
rushed up to it, and hugged it. But the dog woke up, jumped out from
under the tunic, and bit the Tigbanua'. Then they all ran. One of them
climbed up the tree to his own house, the dog holding on to his leg,
and biting him all the time. But when they were halfway up the tree,
the dog fell down and got hurt. And the Tigbanua' called down to the
dog, "Swell up, swell up!" ("Pigsa, pigsa!")
All the other Tigbanua' were afraid of the big dog, and ran away. So
the man slept well all night, because the Buso could not hurt him now.
Story of Duling and the Tagamaling
Before the world was made, there were Tagamaling. The Tagamaling
is the best Buso, because he does not want to hurt man all of the
time. Tagamaling is actually Buso only a part of the time; that is,
the month when he eats people. One month he eats human flesh, and
then he is Buso; the next month he eats no human flesh, and then he
is a god. So he alternates, month by month. The month he is Buso,
he wants to eat man during the dark of the moon; that is, between
the phases that the moon is full in the east and new in the west.
The other class of Buso, however, wants human flesh all of the
time. They are the Tigbanua', the chief of whom is Datu of all the
Buso. A Tigbanua' lives in his own house, and goes out only to eat
the bodies of the dead.
The Tagamaling makes his house in trees that have hard wood, and low,
broad-spreading branches. His house is almost like gold, and is called
"Palimbing," but it is made so that you cannot see it; and, when
you pass by, you think, "Oh! what a fine tree with big branches,"
not dreaming that it is the house of a Tagamaling. Sometimes, when
you walk in the forest, you think you see one of their houses; but
when you come near to the place, there is nothing. Yet you can smell
the good things to eat in the house.
Once a young man named Duling, and his younger brother, went out
into the woods to trap wild chickens. Duling had on his back a basket
holding a decoy cock, together with the snares of running-nooses and
all the parts of the trap. While they were looking for a good spot to
drive in the stakes for the snare, they heard the voice of Tagamaling
in the trees, saying, "Duling, Duling, come in! My mother is making
a little fiesta here."
The boys looked up, and could see the house gleaming there in the
branches, and there were two Tagamaling-women calling to them. In
response to the call, Duling's younger brother went up quickly
into the house; but Duling waited on the ground below. He wanted the
Tagamaling-girls to come down to him, for he was enamoured (kalatugan)
of them. Then one girl ran down to urge Duling to come up into the
tree. And as soon as she came close to him, he caught her to his
breast, and hugged her and caressed her.
In a moment, Duling realized that the girl was gone, and that he was
holding in his arms a nanga-bush, full of thorns. He had thought to
catch the girl, but, instead, sharp thorns had pricked him full of
sores. Then from above he heard the woman's voice, tauntingly sweet,
"Don't feel bad, Duling; for right here is your younger brother."
Yet the young man, gazing here and there, saw around him only tall
trees, and could not catch a glimpse of the girl who mocked him.
Immediately, Duling, as he stood there, was turned into a rock. But
the little brother married the Tagamaling-girl.
There is a place high up in the mountains of Mindanao, about eight
hours' ride west of Santa Cruz, where you may see the rock, and you
will know at once that it is a human figure. There is Duling, with
the trap and the decoy cock on his shoulder. You may see the cock's
feathers too.
The S'iring
The S'iring [120] is the ugly man that has long nails and curly
hair. He lives in the forest trees. If a boy goes into the forest
without a companion, the S'iring tries to carry him off. When you meet
a S'iring, he will look like your father, or mother, or some friend;
and he will hide his long nails behind his back, so that you cannot
see them. It is the S'iring who makes the echo (a'u'd). When you
talk in a loud voice, the S'iring will answer you in a faint voice,
because he wants to get you and carry you away.
There was once a boy who went without a companion into the forest,
and he met a man who looked just like his own father, but it was a
S'iring; and the S'iring made him believe that he was his father. The
S'iring said to the boy, "Come, you must go with me. We will shoot
some wild birds with our bow and arrows."
And the boy, not doubting that he heard his father's voice, followed
the S'iring into the deep forest. After a while, the boy lost his
memory, and forgot the way to his own house. The S'iring took him up
on a high mountain, and gave him food; but the poor boy had now lost
his mind, and he thought the food was a milleped one fathom long,
or it seemed to him the long, slim worm called liwati.
So the days went on, the boy eating little, and growing thinner
and weaker all the time. When he met any men in the forest, he grew
frightened, and would run away. When he had been a long time in the
forest, the S'iring called to him and said, "We will move on now."
So they started off again. When they reached the high bank of a deep
and swift-flowing river, the S'iring scratched the boy with his long
nails. Straightway the boy felt so tired that he could no longer stand
on his legs, and then he dropped down into the ravine. He fell on the
hard rocks, so that his bones were broken, and his skull split open.
All this time, the mother at home was mourning for her son, and crying
all day long. But soon she arranged a little shrine (tambara [121])
under the great tree, and, having placed there a white bowl with a
few betel-nuts and some buyo-leaf as an offering for her son, she
crouched on the ground and prayed for his life to the god in the sky.
Now, when the S'iring heard her prayer, he took some betel-nuts, and
went to the place where the boy's body lay. On the parts where the
bones were broken, he spit betel-nut, and did the same to the boy's
head. Immediately the boy came to life, and felt well again. Then the
S'iring took him up, and carried him to the shrine where the mother
was praying; but she could not see the S'iring nor her boy. She went
home crying.
That night, as the woman slept, she dreamed that a boy came close to
her, and spoke about her son. "To-morrow morning," he said, "you must
pick red peppers, and get a lemon, [122] and carry them to the shrine,
and burn them in the fire."
Next morning, the woman hastened to gather the peppers, and get
a lemon, and with happy face she ran to the shrine under the big
tree. There she made a fire, and burned the lemon and the red peppers,
as the dream had told her. And, as soon as she had done this, her
son appeared from under the great tree. Then his mother caught him
in her arms, and held him close, and cried for joy.
When you lose your things, you may be sure that the S'iring has hidden
them. What you have to do is to burn some red peppers with beeswax
(tadu ka petiukan [123]), and observe carefully the direction in which
the smoke goes. The way the smoke goes points out where your things
are hidden, because the S'iring is afraid of the wax of bees. He is
afraid, too, of red peppers and of lemons.
How Iro Met the S'iring
Not long ago, a young man named Iro went out, about two o'clock in the
afternoon, to get some tobacco from one of the neighbors. Not far from
his house, he saw his friend Atun coming along; and Atun said to him,
"I've got some tobacco hidden away in a place in the woods. Let us
go and get it."
So they went along together. When they reached the forest, Atun
disappeared, and Iro could not see which way he had gone. Then he
concluded that it was not Atun, but a S'iring, whom he had met. He
started for home, and reached there about eight o'clock in the
evening. To his astonishment, he saw Atun sitting there in the
house. Confused and wondering, he asked Atun, "Did you carry me away?"
But his friend Atun laughed, and said, "Where should I carry you? I
have not been anywhere."
Then Iro was convinced that a S'iring had tried to lure him into
the forest.
When you have a companion, the S'iring cannot hurt you.
CHAPTER IV
Animal Stories: Metamorphosis, Explanatory Tales, Etc.
The Kingfisher and the Malaki
There came a day when the kingfisher (kobug [124]) had nothing to
drink, and was thirsty for water. Then she walked along the bed of
the brook, searching for a drink; but the waters of the brook were
all dried up.
Now, on that very day, the Maganud went up the mountain to get some
agsam [125] to make leglets for himself. And when he came near to where
the bulla grows, he stopped to urinate, and the urine sprinkled one of
the great bulla-leaves. Then he went on up the mountain. Just then, the
kingfisher came along, still looking for a mountain-stream. Quickly she
caught sight of the leaf of the bulla-tree all sprinkled with water;
but the man had gone away. Then the kingfisher gladly drank a few
drops of the water, and washed her feathers. But no sooner had she
quenched her thirst, and taken a bath, than her head began to pain
her. Then she went home to her little house in the ground.
Now, every day the kingfisher laid one egg, and that day she laid
her egg as usual. But when the egg hatched out, it was no feathered
nestling, but a baby-boy, that broke the shell.
"Oh!" cried the frightened bird. "What will become of me?" Then she
ran off a little way from her nest, and started to fly away.
But the little boy cried out, "Mother, mother, don't be afraid of me!"
So the kingfisher came back to her baby. And the child grew bigger
every day.
After a while, the boy was old enough to walk and play around. Then
one day he went alone to the house of the Maganud, and climbed up
the steps and looked in at the door. The Maganud was sitting there on
the floor of his house; and the little boy ran up to him and hugged
him, and cried for joy. But the Maganud was startled and dismayed;
for he was a chaste malaki, [126] and had no children. Yet this boy
called him "father," and begged for ripe bananas in a very familiar
manner. After they had talked for a little while, the Maganud went
with the child to the home of the kingfisher.
The kingfisher had made her nest at the foot of a great hollow
tree. She had dug out a hole, about four feet deep, in the soft ground,
and fixed a roof by heaping over the hole the powdered rotten bark of
the old tree. The roof stood up just a few inches above the ground;
and when the Maganud saw it, he thought it was a mere little heap of
earth. Immediately, however, as he looked at the lowly nest, it became
a fine house with walls of gold, and pillars of ivory. The eaves were
all hung with little bells (korung-korung [127]); and the whole house
was radiantly bright, for over it forked lighting played continually.
The kingfisher took off her feather coat, and became a lovely woman,
and then she and the Malaki were married. They had bananas and
cocoanut-groves, and all things, and they became rich people.
The Woman and the Squirrel
One day a woman went out to find water. She had no water to drink,
because all the streams were dried up. As she went along, she saw
some water in a leaf. She drank it, and washed her body. As soon as
she had drunk the water, her head began to hurt. Then she went home,
spread out a mat, lay down on it, and went to sleep. She slept for
nine days. When she woke up, she took a comb and combed her hair. As
she combed it, a squirrel-baby came out from her hair. After the baby
had been in the house one week, it began to grow and jump about. It
staid up under the roof of the house.
One day the Squirrel said to his mother, "O mother! I want you to
go to the house of the Datu who is called 'sultan,' and take these
nine kamagi [128] and these nine finger-rings to pay for the sultan's
daughter, because I want to marry her."
Then the mother went to the sultan's house and remained there an
hour. The sultan said, "What do you want?"
The woman answered, "Nothing. I came for betel-nuts." Then the woman
went back home.
The Squirrel met her, and said, "Where are my nine necklaces?"
"Here they are," said the woman.
But the Squirrel was angry at his mother, and bit her with his
little teeth.
Again he said to his mother, "You go there and take the nine
necklaces."
So the woman started off again. When she reached the sultan's house,
she said to him, "I have come with these nine necklaces and these
nine finger-rings that my son sends to you."
"Yes," said the sultan; "but I want my house to become gold, and I want
all my plants to become gold, and everything I have to turn into gold."
But the woman left the presents to pay for the sultan's daughter. The
sultan told her that he wanted his house to be turned into gold that
very night. Then the woman went back and told all this to her son. The
Squirrel said, "That is good, my mother."
Now, when night came, the Squirrel went to the sultan's house, and
stood in the middle of the path, and called to his brother, the Mouse,
"My brother, come out! I want to see you."
Then the great Mouse came out. All the hairs of his coat were of gold,
and his eyes were of glass.
The Mouse said, "What do you want of me, my brother Squirrel?"
"I called you," answered the Squirrel, "for your gold coat. I want
some of that to turn the sultan's house into gold."
Then the Squirrel bit the skin of the Mouse, and took off some of the
gold, and left him. Then he began to turn the sultan's things into
gold. First of all, he rubbed the gold on the betel-nut trees of the
sultan; next, he rubbed all the other trees and all the plants; third,
he rubbed the house and all the things in it. Then the sultan's town
you could see as in a bright day. You would think there was no night
there--always day.
All this time, the sultan was asleep. When he woke up, he was so
frightened to see all his things, and his house, of gold, that he
died in about two hours.
Then the Squirrel and the daughter of the sultan were married. The
Squirrel staid in her father's home for one month, and then they went
to live in the house of the Squirrel's mother. And they took from
the sultan's place, a deer, a fish, and all kinds of food. After the
sultan's daughter had lived with the Squirrel for one year, he took
off his coat and became a Malaki T'oluk Waig. [129]
The Cat
Very long ago the cocoanut used to be the head of the cat. That is why
the cat loves cocoanut so much. When the Bagobo are eating cocoanut,
they let the cat jump up and have some too, because her head once
turned into a cocoanut. When the cat hears the Bagobo scraping cocoanut
in the kitchen, she runs quickly to get some to eat.
We cut off some of the fur from the tip of the cat's tail, and put the
hairs under one of the big stones (sigung) where the fire burns. This
is why the cat loves the house where she lives.
When the cat dies, her gimokud takawanan [130] goes down to Gimokudan,
where the spirits of dead people go.
Why the Bagobo Likes the Cat
An old man was fishing in the brook; but the water kept getting muddy,
and he did not know what was the matter. Then he went away, and he
walked and walked. After he had gone some distance, he saw in the mud
a big lion [131] that eats people. The Lion had been sleeping in the
mud. He said to the man, "If you'll pull me out of the mud and ride
me to my town, I will give you many things." Then the man drew the
Lion from the mud.
The Lion stood still a while, and then said, "Now you must ride on me."
So the man mounted the Lion, and rode until they came to a large
meadow, when the Lion said, "Now I am going to eat you."
The man replied, "But first let us go and ask the Carabao."
The Lion consented, and they went on until they reached the Carabao.
"This Lion wants to eat me," complained the man.
"Yes, indeed! eat him, Lion," answered the Carabao, "for the men are
all the time riding on my back, and whipping me."
There were many Carabaos in the field, and they all agreed to this.
Then the man said to the Lion, "You may eat me; but we will first go
and tell the Cows."
Soon they reached the Cows' home, and the man told them that the Lion
wanted to eat him.
At once the Cows exclaimed, "Yes, eat him, Lion, because all day long
the people drive us away from their fields."
"All right!" assented the man; "but first let us speak to the Dogs."
When they came to the Dogs' home, the man cried, "The Lion is going
to eat me."
The Dogs said to the Lion, "Devour this man; for every day, when men
are eating, they beat us away from the food."
At last the man said, "Sure enough, you will eat me up, Lion; but
let us just go to the Cat."
When they reached the Cat's home, they found her sitting at the door,
keeping her nice house. It had groves of cocoanut-palms around it. The
Cat lived all alone.
The man said to her, "This Lion wants to eat me."
"Yes, Lion," the Cat replied; "but first you make a deep hole in the
ground. We will race each other into the hole. If you jump in first,
then I shall lose and you will win."
And the Lion ran, and jumped into the hole. Then the Cat covered
him with earth and stones until he was dead. But before he died,
the Lion called to the Cat, "Whenever I see your excrement (tai),
I shall eat it." That is why the Cat hides her excrement, because
she is afraid the Lion will come.
Now, the Lion is the dog of the Buso.
How the Lizards got their Markings
One day the Chameleon (palas [132]) and the Monitor-lizard (ibid
[133]) were out in a deep forest together. They thought they would
try scratching each other's backs to make pretty figures on them.
First the Chameleon said to the Monitor-lizard, "You must scratch a
nice pattern on my back."
So the Monitor went to work, and the Chameleon had a fine
scratching. Monitor made a nice, even pattern on his back.
Then Monitor asked Chameleon for a scratching. But no sooner had
Chameleon begun to work on Monitor's back than there came the sound of
a dog barking. A man was hunting in the forest with his dog. The sharp
barks came nearer and nearer to the two lizards; and the Chameleon
got such a scare, that his fingers shook, and the pretty design
he was making went all askew. Then he stopped short and ran away,
leaving the Monitor with a very shabby marking on his back.
This is the reason that the monitor-lizard is not so pretty as the
chameleon.
The Monkey and the Tortoise [134]
One day, when a Tortoise was crawling slowly along by a stream, he
saw a baby-monkey drinking water. Presently the Monkey ran up to the
Tortoise, and said, "Let's go and find something to eat."
Not far from the stream there was a large field full of
banana-trees. They looked up, and saw clusters of ripe fruit.
"That's fine!" said the Monkey, "for I'm hungry and you're hungry
too. You climb first, Tortoise."
Then the Tortoise crawled slowly up the trunk; but he had got up only
a little distance when the Monkey chattered these words, "Roro s'punno,
roro s'punno!" [135] ("Slide down, slide down, Tortoise!")
At once the Tortoise slipped and fell down. Then he started again
to climb the tree; and again the Monkey said, "Roro s'punno!" and
again the Tortoise slipped and fell down. He tried over and over
again; but every time he failed, for the Monkey always said, "Roro
s'punno!" and made him fall. At last he got tired and gave it up,
saying to the Monkey, "Now you try it."
"It's too bad!" said the Monkey, "when we're both so hungry." Then
the Monkey made just three jumps, and reached the ripe fruit. "Wait
till I taste and see if they're sweet," he cried to the Tortoise,
while he began to eat bananas as fast as he could.
"Give me some," begged the Tortoise.
"All right!" shouted the Monkey; "but I forgot to notice whether it
was sweet." And he kept on eating, until more than half of the fruit
was gone.
"Drop down just one to me!" pleaded the Tortoise.
"Yes, in a minute," mumbled the Monkey.
At last, when but three bananas were left on the tree, the Monkey
called, "Look up! shut your eyes" (Langag-ka! pudung-nu yan matanu
[136]).
The Tortoise did so. The Monkey then told him to open his mouth,
and he obeyed. Then the Monkey said, "I'll peel this one piece of
banana for you" (Luitan-ko 'ni sebad abok saging [137]).
Now, the Monkey was sitting on a banana-leaf, directly over the
Tortoise; but, instead of banana, he dropped his excrement into the
Tortoise's mouth. The Tortoise screamed with rage; but the Monkey
jumped up and down, laughing at him. Then he went on eating the
remainder of the bananas.
The Tortoise then set himself to work at making a little hut of
bamboo-posts, with a roof and walls of leaves. The upper ends of the
bamboo he sharpened, and let them project through the roof; but the
sharp points were concealed by the leaves. It was like a trap for pigs
(sankil).
When the Monkey came down from the banana-tree, the Tortoise said,
"You climb this other tall tree, and look around at the sky. If the
sky is dark, you must call to me; for the rain will soon come. Then
you jump down on the roof of our little house here. Never mind if it
breaks in, for we can soon build a stronger one."
The Monkey accordingly climbed the tree, and looked at the sky. "It is
all very dark!" he exclaimed. "Jump quick, then!" cried the Tortoise.
So the Monkey jumped; but he got killed from the sharp bamboo-points
on which he landed.
Then the Tortoise made a fire, and roasted the Monkey. He cut off
the Monkey's ears, and they turned into buyo-leaves. [138] He cut
out the heart, and it turned into betel-nut. He took out the brain,
and it became lime (apog [139]). He made the tail into pungaman. [140]
The stomach he made into a basket. He put into the basket the betel
and the lime and the pungaman and the buyo, and crawled away.
Soon he heard the noise of many animals gathered together. He found
the monkeys and the deer and the pigs and the wild birds having a big
rice-planting. All the animals were rejoiced to see the Tortoise coming
with a basket, for they all wanted to chew betel. The monkeys ran up,
chattering, and tried to snatch the betel-nuts; but the Tortoise held
them back, saying, "Wait a minute! By and by I will give you some."
Then the monkeys sat around, waiting, while the Tortoise prepared the
betel-nut. He cut the nuts and the pungaman into many small pieces,
and the buyo-leaf too, and gave them to the monkeys and the other
animals. Everybody began to chew; and the Tortoise went away to
a distance about the length of one field (sebad kinamat), where he
could get out of sight, under shelter of some trees. Then he called to
the monkeys, "All of you are eating monkey, just like your own body:
you are chewing up one of your own family."
At that, all the monkeys were angry, and ran screaming to catch the
Tortoise. But the Tortoise had hid under the felled trunk of an old
palma brava tree. As each monkey passed close by the trunk where the
Tortoise lay concealed, the Tortoise said, "Drag your membrum! here's
a felled tree" (Supa tapo! basio' [141]).
Thus every monkey passed by clear of the trunk, until the last one
came by; and he was both blind and deaf. When he followed the rest,
he could not hear the Tortoise call out, "Supa tapo! basio';" and
his membrum struck against the fallen trunk. He stopped, and became
aware of the Tortoise underneath. Then he screamed to the rest;
and all the monkeys came running back, and surrounded the Tortoise,
threatening him.
"What do you want?" inquired the Tortoise.
"You shall die," cried the monkeys. "Tell us what will kill you. We
will chop you to pieces with the axe."
"Oh, no! that won't hurt me in the least," replied the Tortoise. "You
can see the marks on my shell, where my father used to cut my body:
but that didn't kill me."
"We will put you in the fire, then, and burn you to death," chorussed
the monkeys. "Will that do?"
"Fire does not hurt me," returned the Tortoise. "Look at my body! See
how brown it is where my father used to stick me into the fire."
"What, then, is best to kill you?" urged the monkeys.
"The way to kill me," replied the Tortoise, "is to take the punch
used for brass, bulit, [142] and run [143] it into my rectum. Then
throw me into the big pond, and drown me."
Then the monkeys did as they were told, and threw him into the
pond. But the Tortoise began to swim about in the water.
Exultantly he called to the monkeys, "This is my own home: you see
I don't drown." And the lake was so deep that the monkeys could not
get him.
Then the monkeys hurried to and fro, summoning all the animals in the
world to drink the water in the lake. They all came,--deer, pigs,
jungle-fowl, monkeys, and all the rest,--and began to drink. They
covered their pagindis [144] with leaves, so that the water could
not run out of their bodies. After a time, they had drunk so much
that the lake became shallow, and one could see the Tortoise's back.
But the red-billed bakaka-bird that lived in a tree by the water was
watching; and as quick as the back of the Tortoise came into sight,
the bird flew down and picked off the leaves from the pagindis of
the deer. Then the water ran out from their bodies until the lake
rose again, and covered the Tortoise. Satisfied, the bird flew back
into the tree. But the deer got fresh leaves to cover their pagindis,
and began to drink again. Then the bird flew to the monkeys, and began
to take the leaves from their pagindis; but one monkey saw him doing
it, and slapped him. This made the bird fall down, and then all the
monkeys left the Tortoise in the lake, and ran to revenge themselves
on the bird.
They snatched him up, pulled out every one of his feathers with their
fingers, and laid him naked upon the stump of a tree. All the animals
went home, leaving the bird on the stump.
Two days later, one Monkey came to look at the Bakaka. Little feathers
were beginning to grow out; but the Monkey thought the bird was dead.
"Maggots are breeding in it," said the Monkey.
Three more days passed, and then the Monkey came again. The Bakaka's
feathers had grown out long by that time; and the Monkey said,
"It was all rotten, and the pigs ate it."
But the bird had flown away. He flew to the north until he reached a
meadow with a big tual-tree in the middle. The tree was loaded with
ripe fruit. [145] Perched on one of the branches, the bird ate all
he wanted, and when done he took six of the fruit of the tual, and
made a necklace for himself. With this hung round his neck, he flew
to the house where the old Monkey lived, and sat on the roof. He
dropped one tual through the roof, and it fell down on the floor,
where all the little monkey-children ran for it, dancing and screaming.
"Don't make such a noise!" chided the old Monkey, "and do not take
the tual, for the Bakaka will be angry, and he is a great bird."
But the bird flew down into the house, and gave one tual to the
old Monkey.
"That is good," said the old Monkey, tasting it. "Tell me where you
got it." But the bird would not tell. Then the old monkey stood up,
and kissed him, and begged to be taken to the tual-tree.
At last the Bakaka said to all the monkeys, "Three days from now you
may all go to the tual-tree. I want you all to go, the blind monkey
too. Go to the meadow where the grass grows high, and there, in the
centre of the meadow, is the tual-tree. If you see the sky and the
air black, do not speak a word; for if you speak, you will get sick."
At the set time, all the monkeys started for the meadow, except one
female monkey that was expecting a baby. The deer and all the other
animals went along, except a few of the females who could not go. They
all reached the meadow-grass; and the monkeys climbed up the tual-tree
that stood in the centre of the field, until all the branches were
full of monkeys. The birds and the jungle-fowl flew up in the tree;
but the deer and the other animals waited clown on the ground.
Then the sky grew black, for the Bakaka and the Tortoise were going
around the meadow with lighted sticks of balekayo, [146] and setting
fire to the grass. The air was full of smoke, and the little monkeys
were crying; but the old Monkey bit them, and said, "Keep still,
for the Bakaka told us not to speak."
But the meadow-grass was all ablaze, and the flames crept nearer and
nearer to the tual-tree. Then all the monkeys saw the fire, and cried,
"Oh! what will become of us?"
Some of the birds and most of the chickens flew away; but some died
in the flames. A few of the pigs ran away, but most of them died. The
other animals were burned to death. Not a single monkey escaped, save
only the female monkey who staid at home. When her baby was born,
it was a boy-monkey. The mother made it her husband, and from this
pair came many monkeys.
It was the same with the deer. All were burned, except one doe who
staid at home. When her little fawn was born, it was a male. She made
it her husband, and from this one pair came many deer.
The Crow and the Golden Trees
The liver of the crow is "medicine" for many pains and for sickness. On
this account the Bagobo kills the crow so that he may get his liver for
"medicine." The liver is good to eat, either cooked or raw. If you see
a crow dead, you can get its liver and eat some of it, and it will be
"medicine" for your body.
The crow never makes its nest in low-growing trees, but only in tall,
big trees. Far from here, the old men say, in the land where the sun
rises, there are no more living trees; for the scorching heat of the
sun has killed them.all, and dried up the leaves. There they stand,
with naked branches, all bare of leaves. Only two trees there have
not died from the heat. The trunks of these trees are of gold, and all
their leaves of silver. But if any bird lights on one of these trees,
it falls down dead. The ground under the two trees is covered with the
bones of little birds and big birds that have died from perching on
the trees with the golden trunks and the silver leaves. These two
trees are full of a resin that makes all the birds die. Only the
crow can sit on the branches, and not die. Hence the crow alone,
of all the birds, remains alive in the land of the sunrise.
No man can get the resin from these trees. But very long ago, in the
days of the Mona, there came a Malaki T'oluk Waig to the trees. He
had a war-shield that shone brightly, for it had a flame of fire
always burning in it. And this Malaki came to the golden trees and
took the precious resin from their trunks.
CHAPTER V
An Ata Story [147]
Alelu'k and Alebu'tud [148]
Alelu'k and Alebu'tud lived together in their own house. They had
no neighbors. One day Alelu'k said to his wife, "I must go and hunt
some pigs."
Then he started out to hunt, taking with him his three dogs. He did
not find any wild pigs; but before long he sighted a big deer with
many-branched antlers. The dogs gave chase and seized the deer, and
held it until the man came up and killed it with the sharp iron spike
that tipped his long staff (tidalan [149]). Then the man tied to the
deer's antlers a strong piece of rattan, and dragged it home.
When he reached his house, his wife met him joyfully; and they were
both very happy, because they had now plenty of meat. They brought
wood and kindled a fire, and fixed over the fire a frame of wood
tied to upright posts stuck into the ground. On the frame they laid
the body of the deer to singe off the hair over the flames. And when
the hair was all burned off, and the skin clean, Alelu'k began to cut
off pieces of venison, and Alebu'tud got ready the big clay pot, and
poured into it water to boil the meat. But there was only a little
water in the house, so Alubu'tud took her bucket (sekkadu [150]),
and hurried down to the river. When she reached there, she stood with
her bare feet in the stream, and dipped the bucket into the stream,
and took it out full of water. But, just as she turned to climb up
the river-bank, an enormous fish jumped out of the river, seized her,
dragged her down, and devoured her.
At home, Alelu'k was watching for his wife to come back bringing the
water. Day after day he waited for her, and all day long he was crying
from sorrow.
The man (Alelu'k) symbolizes a big black ant that makes its nest in
a hollow tree. The woman (Alebu'tud) is a little worm that lives
in the palma brava tree. The fish is another man who carried off
Alelu'k's wife.
New York.
NOTES
[1] In these legends, in a few instances, the exact phrases of the
narrators have been retained for the sake of their quaintness.
[2] Obtained from José Teodoro, Bay, Laguna, P.I.
[3] Obtained from Fabian de la Paz, San Fernando, Pompanga, P. I.,
who says it was "handed down from old time."
[4] Obtained from Camilo Osias, Balayan, Luzon, P. I.
[5] The word here translated "king" is hardly satisfactory, but
perhaps nothing better can be substituted. Of course the idea "king"
has crept in since the Spanish conquest. "Datto" or "chief" might be
more satisfactory. What is really meant, however, is nothing exactly
imaged by these words, but rather a sort of "head-man," a man more
prominent and powerful than others.
[6] See "Tar-Baby" in Uncle Remus, his Songs and Sayings, p. 7. Also
"Puss in Boots" in Lang's Cinderella, p. 36.
[7] See "Uncle Remus" on "Tortoise and the Rabbit," p. 87. Also Æsop's
Fables, p. 162.
[8] The incident of Ca Boo-Ug pretending that he did not wish to be
thrown into the water is similar to an incident in the "Tar Baby"
story (see Uncle Remus, his Songs and Sayings, p. 16).
[9] Juan Puson, or "Jack Paunch," as he would be called in English,
is a favorite character in Tagalog folk-lore. His adventures are
considered to be the height of humor, and a recital of these never
fails to be repaid with peals of appreciative laughter. The character
is merely a conventional one, to which all sorts of stories, no matter
how inconsistent with each of the others, may be attached. Some of
the accounts, which deal with the death of Juan and various members
of his family by burning, the writer has suppressed as too coarse
for Western ideas.
[10] Anac, child.
[11] Anac hang gabi, young root of the caladium plant. It also means
"child of the night."
[12] Any kind of relish to be eaten with rice, meat especially.
[13] Tuba, fermented juice of cocoa, buri, or nipa palms.
[14] "Lightning blast the stick!"
[15] The Tagalog word is literally "hash."
[16] This story is probably derived from a Spanish version of "The
Forty Thieves," but like all the stories of this collection, it is
from an oral version of the Tagalog tale.
[17] Filipinos do not kiss like Occidental peoples, but touch the
tip of the nose, with sometimes the lips, and inhale the fragrance
of the face or hair.
[18] Native houses of the poorer classes are very slightly built, of
four or six uprights, with bamboo floors and thatched roof and sides,
the whole tied together with rattan. They are very safe in earthquakes.
[19] "Honorable people."
[20] Malapad--a copper piece worth about eighty to the peso or 0.0125
Mexican dollars.
[21] Sec-apat--a real or one eighth of a peso.
[22] Pallok--rice pot of earthenware.
[23] This story is rather suggestive of the Arabian Nights. The writer
in unable to determine its true source.
[24] Tabo: a cocoanut shell cup.
[25] Sinio: corrupted from Sp. genio; Eng. genius.
[26] Multo: genius; etymology unknown.
[27] The general name for a story, of whatever type.
[28] Among the Bagobo the name "diwata" is used rather as a collective
than as a specific term, and refers to the gods in general, or to any
one of them. Pamulak Manobo, creator of the earth, is the diwata here
referred to.
[29] In Malayan-Arabic tradition, Adam was moulded from a lump of clay
mixed with water (cf. W. W. Skeat, Malay Magic [1900], pp. 21-22);
but the suggestion may as well have come from a Jesuit story.
[30] Tuglay, the "old man" of Bagobo myth, and Tuglibung, the
"old woman," were the Mona, who lived on the earth before time
began. Tradition says that they were acquainted with only the rudest
of Bagobo arts and industries; that they were very poor, and dressed
themselves in the soft sheath torn from the cocoanut-trees. Tuglay
and Tuglibung are not specific, but general, names for all those old
people of the tales.
[31] The Malaya of the peninsula have a similar tradition as to the
snake element (cf. Skeat, l.c., p. 6).
[32] The name "Mona" is ordinarily applied to the old man as well as
to the old woman of prehistoric days.
[33] A generic name for the old man of the ancient myths. The
word seems to be related to tugul ("old"), which is used only of
persons. "An old thing" is tapi.
[34] With ready ease the Bagobo incorporates elements that have
come from Catholic sources, yet without breaking the thread of his
narrative.
[35] A tradition of the first peopling of Mindanao was found by
Mr. Cole at Cibolan. Cf. The Philippine Journal of Science, vol. vi,
pp. 128-129 (1911).
[36] Hemp warp that has been laced in a banded pattern before dyeing,
in order to produce decorative figures In a textile, is called
binubbud. After the binding-threads are clipped, there is an effect
of rippling in the hemp, of which curly hair is suggestive.
[37] Such auspicious white spots are referred to in the text of a
Bagobo song (in manuscript), in which the Divine Man who lives at
the source of the streams is said to have the pamoti on his body.
[38] A well-made box of hard wood in which fine garments are kept.
[39] A long, one-edged sword that hangs at the left side, in an
elaborate scabbard, when a man is in full-dress.
[40] Men (ta, "the;" -g-, a formal or euphonic infix; selat, "door;" k'
[ka], "of;" alo, "sun") at the door of the sun. Manobo is a general
term for "man," "people."
[41] The Visayans believe that an eclipse of the moon is caused
by an enormous animal that seizes the moon, and holds her in his
mouth. Cf. this Journal, vol. xix (1906), p. 209.
[42] Large percussion instruments made by the Chinese, imported from
Singapore into Mindanao, and widely used by the wild tribes.
[43] The first of mortals to reach heaven, and become a god (cf. the
"Story of Lumabat and Wari"). In the tales that I have thus far
collected, Lumabat does not figure as a culture-hero.
[44] The word indicating the relationship between brother and sister,
each of whom is tube' to the other, whether elder or younger.
[45] The mortar in which rice is pounded is a large, deep wooden bowl
that stands in the house. With its standard, it is three feet or more
in height.
[46] The place below the earth where the dead go (gimokud, "spirit;"
-an, plural ending); that is, [the place of] many spirits.
[47] The same word is used of the ceremonial washing at the festival
of G'inum. Ordinary bathing is padigus.
[48] See footnote 3, p. 15, also 3, p. 16.
[49] This is also an element in Visayan myth (cf. Maxfield and
Millington's collection in this Journal, vol. xx [1907], p. 102). For
the Malay tradition, cf. Skeat, Malay Magic, p. 205.
[50] See footnote 1, p. 18.
[51] A synonyme for Gimokudan ("the city of the dead"). It is not
ordinarily associated in the mind of the Bagobo with any idea of
retribution. This episode shows traces of Jesuit influence.
[52] See footnote 1, p. 15.
[53] The popular name "betel-nut," has been retained in these stories
to designate the fruit of the areca-palm. Strictly speaking, "betel"
is the leaf of a climbing plant (buyo) that is chewed with the nut.
[54] The solid part of the betel-nut that remains after the juice
has been extracted by long chewing.
[55] A sort of bridge or platform connecting the main body of the
native house with the shelter that serves as kitchen, when this is
separate from the living-room.
[56] A fabulous bird, probably associated with the screech-owl (Aluco
candidus) of the Philippines. It is a bird of ill-omen. Compare
A. Newton, Dictionary of Birds, pp. 679-680 (1893-96).
[57] General term for "man," "people."
[58] The ulit has a stereotyped opening with the phrase unda'me
(unda ume), "no year."
[59] The fabulous source of all the mountain-streams
[60] The anthropomorphic and zoömorphic evil personalities, whose
number is legion. The traditional concept of Buso among the Bagobo
has essentially the same content as that of Asuang with Visayan
peoples. Both Buso and Asuang suggest the Rákshasa of Indian myth.
[61] See footnote 2, p. 19.
[62] Bia, "lady;" t' (to), "the;" metum, "black."
[63] A stout work-knife, with broad, one-edged blade, and square tip;
used to hew down trees, and cut kindling-wood.
[64] A term regularly used of the great Malaki, and combining the
sense of "all-wise" and "invincible." Matulus is often used with a
connotation of having magical power.
[65] See footnote 3, p. 15, also 3, p. 16.
[66] The number sacred in ceremonial and song.
[67] See footnote 2, p. 16.
[68] Visayan word for rice growing in the field; Bagobo, 'ume.
[69] The long sword of the Moro, with a wavy, two-edged blade.
[70] The Babogo say, that, before the invention of weaving hemp,
all the people clothed themselves in the soft, inflammable layers of
the sheath that envelops the trunk of cocoanut-palms.
[71] The semi-divine being who dwells at the mythical source of
the mountain-streams (malaki, "good man;" t' [to], "the;" oluk,
"source;" waig, "water"), Traditionally there are many of these malaki,
devotionally there is but one.
[72] A very hard, fine-grained wood susceptible of high polish, in
color grading, according to age, from yellow to golden tan, and used
to make handles for the most valuable swords.
[73] These gods are of high rank. Salamia'wan occupies the second
heaven, and Panguli'li, the ninth.
[74] Malaki who lives at the horizon (lindig, "border;" ramut,
"root;" ka, preposition "of;" langit, "sky").
[75] Although the name malaki properly is limited to men of high moral
character, yet actually the story-teller calls all the young men malaki
round whom the action centres. Often it means simply an unmarried man.
[76] A typical Malay house presents the appearance of a pile-dwelling,
the floor being raised several feet above the ground, and tied to the
heavy upright timbers which run to the roof and form the framework
of the house.
[77] Short trousers of hemp, usually embroidered and beaded.
[78] Short jacket of hemp (ka, "of;" mama, "man," "boy," the specific
term for "man").
[79] Brass-smith.
[80] A title of respect, which is best rendered by "lady" or "señora."
[81] Brass toe-rings, corresponding to the paninsing ("finger-rings").
[82] See footnote 1, p. 29.
[83] Rock-terrace (-an, plural ending; ka, "of;" karamag. "wind")
of the Wind.
[84] Terraces (walu, "eight;" lapit, "folded;" dukilum, "night,"
"darkness") of Eight-fold Darkness.
[85] Udan ("rain").
[86] A large carrying-bag worn by Bagobo men on the back, by means of
straps over the shoulders. It is woven of hemp, often heavily beaded,
and contains the betel-box, the lime-tube, and a tight case of woven
rattan for flint, steel, medicine, and other necessaries.
[87] The leaf of a vine that is chewed with betel-nut.
[88] Dulama ("soft rock"). This rock formation appears to be a cuesta
structure.
[89] An embroidery done by old women in former days, but now almost
a lost art. Tambayang was used for the uppers of sleeves for fiesta,
and it formed the scarf worn by mothers to carry the baby. There is
a taboo on young women doing this special sort of needlework.
[90] The "small boy" of the ancient tales (ulit), who in some magical
manner becomes great.
[91] See footnote 4, p, 26.
[92] See footnote 2, p. 20.
[93] Bia, "lady;" inelu, "orphan,"--the orphan lady Itanawa.
[94] When a Bagobo makes an expedition over the mountains to attend
a fiesta, he wears his old clothes, and carries his elaborately
ornamented garments in the bag on his back. On nearing the end of
the journey, he goes behind a tree, or into the jungle, and puts on
his fine clothes.
[95] A box with three compartments,--for betel-nut, buyo-leaf, and
calcined shell,--cast in brass or bell-metal from a wax mould. This
type has rectangular surfaces, and is to be distinguished from the
kapulan, a type marked by its circular, or elliptical, or polygonal
top and base.
[96] It is the custom of the natives to wait for the host to say, "Come
up," before mounting the ladder or notched log leading to the door.
[97] The reference here is a little ambiguous. It is suggested that a
transposition of clauses may throw light on the meaning. Transposed
and expanded, the invitation would read thus: "Come up into the
house for shelter, since there are many showers in my town. Come up,
provided you can keep from bringing on a fight."
[98] The good man [of the] Folded Mountains (taglapida, "folded;"
pabungan, "mountains").
[99] Lindig, "border;" ramut, "root;" ka, preposition "of;" langit,
"sky."
[100] A low-growing tree yielding a black dye, which for a very long
time has been used by women to color hemp.
[101] A bead necklace, the most highly valued of all Bagobo
ornaments. One section is a gold or silver cord, several inches
long. made of small over-lapping scales of the precious metal. The
necklace is thought to be of Moro manufacture, and is valued by the
Bagobo at from one to four agongs.
[102] See footnote 4, p. 32.
[103] A trial-marriage before the Bagobo ceremony is not uncommon.
[104] The tree that bears betel-nuts, and is commonly called
"betel-nut tree."
[105] Possibly a form of kambin ("goat"); diluk ("little"); i.e.,
"little goat," a name that would be selected readily by a Bagobo for
a fleet horse.
[106] See footnote 2, p. 15.
[107] One of the Agamidæ.
[109] The same word is used for the reflection in the water and for
the shadow cast on the ground, since both phenomena are regarded as
manifestations of the same spirit (gimokud).
[110] The Mona were aged people, without sexual passions; hence this
episode presents a situation out of the ordinary.
[111] A small bird that steals grain from the growing corn and rice. A
clapper of split bamboo is sometimes made to scare away the maya.
[112] One of the thick-branching trees haunted by demons.
[113] A native sweet-potato. The Bagobo name is kasila.
[114] See footnote 2, p. 39.
[115] Buso is saying a charm to make the stem of the bagkang-plant
grow tall enough to form a handle for the betel-nut tree, so that
the children may be dragged down (tubu, "grow;" baba, "rattan strap
forming the basket-handle;" mamaa'n, "betel-nut"). The children,
for their part, say other magic words to make the tree grow at an
equally rapid rate, so that its branches may swing above the bagkang
as a handle for it. The Buso's formula appears to have been the more
effective of the two charms in producing a magically rapid growth.
[116] See footnote 1, p. 18.
[117] See footnote 2, p. 30.
[118] See footnote 1, p. 30.
[119] See footnote, p. 25.
[120] The S'iring are said to appear in the likeness of some near
relative of the wanderer in the forest (s-, prefix widely used by
mountain Bagobo before an initial vowel of a proper name; iring,
"like" or "similar to").
[121] The family altar seen in many Bagobo houses. It consists of
two slim rods of bamboo (attached to the wall, and standing upright),
split at the upper ends so as to support each a bowl of white crockery,
in which offerings of betel-nut, brass bracelets, and other objects,
are placed. Similar shrines are sometimes put up under trees or by
a mountain-stream.
[122] Red peppers and a piece or two of lemon laid under the house are
effective in keeping Buso away from that vicinity; and the use of the
same charm here against the S'iring suggests that the S'iring may not
be separated by a very sharp line from the Buso who crowd the forests.
[123] Tadu ("wax"), ka (preposition "of"), petiukan ("bees").
[124] This bird, often called a "hornbill" by foreigners in the
Philippines, is probably the halcyon kingfisher (Ceyx euerythra)
of the islands. The ground hornbill is confined to Africa; and the
tree hornbill of the Philippines does not make its nest at the foot
of trees, as in this story.
[125] A mountain-plant whose stem has a thin, glossy, black sheath,
that is stripped off and used in twisting the decorative leglet
called tikus.
[126] In a strict sense, the term malaki is never applied to a man,
unless he is young, unmarried, and perfectly chaste. But this technical
use is not always preserved.
[127] Small bells cast from a hand-made wax mould, and extensively
used for decorating baskets, bags, belts, etc.
[128] See footnote 1, p. 38.
[129] See footnote 2, p. 28.
[130] The good soul that goes to the city of the dead, and continues
to live much as on earth. The gimokud tebang, or bad soul, becomes
a Buso after death.
[131] The "lion" is borrowed from some foreign source, since in the
Philippines there are no large carnivorous mammals.
[132] The so-called "chameleon" of the Malay Peninsula and the Malay
Islands is Calotes, one of the Agamidæ (cf. H. Gadow, Amphibia and
Reptiles, pp. 517-518).
[133] A semi-aquatic lizard of the Philippines that lays edible eggs,
and otherwise answers to the description of the Varanus, or Monitor.
[134] This story, in an abbreviated form, was found by Clara Kern
Bayliss at Laguna (cf. this Journal, vol. xxi, p. 46 (1908)).
[135] Roro, "slide;" s prefix (euphonic or formal, used by mountain
Bagobo before vowels and many consonant sounds, as the labial p here);
punno, "tortoise."
[136] Langag, "look;" -ka (suffix, second person nominative), "you;"
pudung, "shut;" -nu (pronominal suffix), "your;" yan (demonstrative
pronoun), "that," "those;" mata, "eyes."
[137] Luit (transitive verb and noun), "peel," "shell;" -ko (suffix,
first person pronominal). "I;" 'ni (abbreviated from ini), "this,"
"here." in sense of "at hand;" sebad. "one;" abok, "piece;" saging,
"banana."
[138] See footnote 5, p. 32.
[139] A white powder (calcined shell) that is sprinkled on the
betel-nut. It is made by burning certain shells to ashes, and mixing
with water.
[140] The stem of a mountain-plant that is chewed in lack of
betel-nut. It blackens the teeth, like betel.
[141] Basio', term used of any old palma brava tree that has been
broken down or felled, and lies on the ground (supa, "drag," "lower;"
tapo, "penis").
[142] A short, pointed iron tool; used to punch ornamental designs
in brass ornaments, especially bracelets and leglets.
[143] In a slightly different version, the tortoise tells the monkeys
to bore into his ear with the tiuk, a brass wire that forms a part
of the hinge of a betel-box.
[144] The distal opening of the urethra.
[145] A small edible fruit with an acid pulp and red-and-white skin.
[146] A light-weight bamboo with slender, thorny branches, very
inflammable, and used where a rapid-burning and intense fire is needed
(bale ["house"], kayo ["wood"]). This wood is extensively used in
building the lighter parts of the framework of a house.
[147] This story came to the Bagobo from a young man of the Ata
tribe, whose habitat is the mountainous country in the interior,
to the northwest of the Gulf of Davao.
[148] "Alelu'k" and "Alebu'tud" are Ata names, for which the Bagobo
forms are respectively Bungen and Batol.
[149] The long handle or rod of a spear, tipped with a sharp-pointed
iron cone; equally useful for killing animals, and, driven into the
ground, for supporting the spear when at rest. The same name (tidalan)
is applied to the shaft of a spear lacking the blade, and carried by
old people like a mountain-staff.
[150] A vessel formed of a single internode of bamboo, in which water
is brought from the river, and kept in the house.