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The Head Hunters of Northern Luzon by Cornelis De Witt Willcox

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The Head Hunters of Northern Luzon
From Ifugao to Kalinga
A Ride Through the Mountains of Northern Luzon
With an Appendix on the Independence of the Philippines


Cornelis De Witt Willcox,

Lieutenant-Colonel U.S. Army,
Professor United States Military Academy,
Officier d'Academie.






Highlanders of Northern Luzon.--Meaning of the word
_Igorrote_.--Trails.--The Mountain Province.--Nature of the country.


Annual inspection of the mountain tribes.--We set out from
Baguio.--Pangasinan Province.--Agno River.--Reception by the people.


Padre Juan Villaverde.--His great trail.--The beginning of the
mountain journey.--Nozo.


Early start.--Pine forest.--Vegetation.--Rest at Amugan.--The


Aritao.--Bubud.--Dupax.--Start for Campote.


The Ilongots and their country.--Efforts of our Government to reach
these people--The forest trail.--Our first contact with the wild man.


School at Campote--Our white pony, and the offer made for his tail.


Appearance of the Ilongots.--Dress.--Issue of beads and cloth.--Warrior
Dance.--School work.--Absence of old women from meeting.


Return to civilization.--Reception at Bambang.--Aglipayanos and


Magat River.--Enthusiastic reception at Bayombong.--Speeches and
reports.--Solano.--Ifugao "college yell."--Bagabag.


We enter the Mountain Province,--Payawan.--Kiangan, its
position.--Anitos.--Speech of welcome by Ifugao chief.--Detachment of
native Constabulary.--Visit of Ifugao chiefs to our quarters.--Dancing.


Day opens badly.--Ifugao houses.--The people
assemble.--Dancing.--Speeches.--White paper streamers.--Head-hunter


Dress of the people.--Butchery of carabao.--Prisoner runs _amok_
and is killed.


Barton's account of a native funeral.


Visit to the Silipan Ifugaos at Andangle.--The Ibilao River.--Athletic
feat.--Rest-house and stable at Sabig.


Change in aspect of country.--Mount Amuyao and the native legend of
the Flood.--Rice terraces.--Benawe.--Mr. Worcester's first visit to
this region.--Sports.--Absence of weapons.--Native arts and crafts.


We ride to Bontok.--Bat-nets.--Character
of the country.--Ambawan.--Difficulties of the
trail.--Bird-scarers.--Talubin.--Bishop Carroll of Vigan.--We reach
Bontok.--"The Star-spangled Banner."--Appearance of the Bontok


Importance of Bontok--Head-taking--Atonement for
bloodshed.--Sports.--Slapping game.


The native village.--Houses.--Pit-a-pit.--Native


We push on north.--Banana skirts.--Albino child.--Pine
uplands.--Glorious view.


Deep Valley.--A poor _rancheria_.--Escort of boys.--Descent of
Tinglayan Hill.--Sullen reception at Tinglayan.--Bangad.--First view
of the Kalingas.--Arrival at Lubuagan.


Splendid appearance of the
Kalingas.--Dancing.--Lubuagan.--_Basi_--Councils.--Bustles and
braids.--Jewels and weapons.--Excellent houses.


We leave the mountains.--Nanong.--Passage of the Chico.--The
Apayao.--Tabuk.--The party breaks up.--Desolate plain--The Cagayan


Tobacco industry.--Tuguegarao.--Caves.--The Cagayan
River.--Barangayans.--Aparri.--Island of Fuga.--Sail for Manila.--Stop
at Vigan.--Arrival at Manila.


Future of the Highlanders.--Origin of our effort to improve their
condition.--Impolicy of any change in present administration.--
Transfer of control of wild tribes to Christianized
Filipinos.--Comparison of our course with that of the Japanese
in Formosa.



An Igorot Warrior
Hon. Dean C. Worcester
Views of the Benguet Road
Working on the Benguet Road
Padre Juan Villaverde
Benguet Road, Zig-zag
Tree Fern, Province of Bontok
Ilongot Women
Native Policemen
Reception Committee of Ifugaos
Mountain Scene in the Ifugao Country
Mountain Scene between Benawe and Kiangan
Inaba, Ifugao Village
Ifugao Couple with Adornments of a Wedding Ceremony
Ifugao Children
Headless Body of Ifugao Warrior
Ifugao Warrior
Typical Ifugao House
Ifugao Making Rounds of Granary
Anitos, Kiangan
Ifugao Chief Making a Speech
Conference between Government Officers and the Headmen of the District
Ifugao Head-hunter, Full Dress
Head-hunter Dance, Kiangan
Dancing at Kiangan
Ifugaos Dancing
Silipan Ifugao Earring
Ifugaos Dancing, Benawe
Crossing Ibilao River by Flying Trolley
Ifugao Head Dance
Rice Terraces at Benawe
Body of Igorot Girl Prepared for Burial
Carabao Fight
Igorot Tribunal
A Bontok Igorot House
Igorot Rice Fields
On the Trail from Benguet to Cervantes
Bontok Igorot Woman
Elaborate Tattooing of the Head-hunter
Bontok Igorot Constabulary Soldiers
Bontok Igorot Slapping Game
_Gansas_ with Human Jaws as Handles
Women and Girls Wearing Banana-leaf Skirts
New School-house, Bontok
Valley of the Rio Chico
Kalinga Girl
Looking Down the Rio Chico
Spiral Camote Patch
Madallam, Kalinga Headman
Two Headmen of Lubuagan
Kalinga Warriors
Typical Kalinga House
Conference at Lubuagan
View of Lubuagan, Capital of Kalinga
Kalinga Head-ax
Igorot Shield
Ifugao Carved Bowl
Ifugao Pipe, Carved Figure, and Wooden Spoon
Carved Wooden Figurines
Map of Northern Luzon


In 1910 the Secretary of the Interior of the Philippine Islands did
me the honor to invite me to accompany him on his annual tour of
inspection through the Mountain Province of Northern Luzon. In the
following pages I have tried to describe what fell under my notice
during the journey, with such comments, observations, and conclusions
as seemed pertinent.

I should like here to thank Mr. Worcester for having invited me to join
him, and Major-General Duvall, United States Army, for allowing me
to accept. My thanks are also due the various officers and officials
of the Insular Government who placed me under obligations by their
hospitality and other courtesies and by the never-failing patience
with which they received and answered my many questions. To my
friend Colonel J.G. Harbord, United States Army, Assistant Director
of Constabulary, I am beholden for instructions sent out in advance
of the journey to the various Constabulary posts on the itinerary,
directing them to offer me every opportunity to accomplish the purpose
of my trip. Except where otherwise indicated, the illustrations
are from photographs taken either by Mr. Worcester himself, or else
under his direction. Some of these, as shown, were lent to me by the
National Geographic Magazine of Washington, and others by the Bureau
of Insular Affairs of the War Department. My best thanks are due and
given in each case. Dr. Heiser was kind enough to let me have a few
photographs taken by him. To Lieutenant P.D. Glassford, 2d Regiment
of Field Artillery, I am indebted for the map of Northern Luzon and
for one or two other illustrations copied from Jenks' "The Bontoc
Igorot"; to Father Malumbres, of the Dominican Monastery in Manila,
for information relating to Padre Villaverde and for the portrait of
that missionary; it is to be regretted that this portrait should be
so unsatisfactory, but it is the only one available. The frontispiece
is by Mr. Julian Miller, who has lived in the Igorot country, and
whose drawing is from life.

C. De W.W.
West Point, N.Y.,
January, 1912.


Highlanders of Northern Luzon.--Meaning of the word
"Igorot."--Trails.--The Mountain Province.--Nature of the country.

It is to be regretted that the people of the United States should in
general show so little interest in the Philippine Islands. This lack
of interest may be due to lack of knowledge; if this be so, then it
is the duty of those better informed to do all that lies in their
power to develop the interest now regrettably absent. Be this as it
may, it is assumed here that most of our people do not know that a
very large fraction of the inhabitants of the Philippines consists
of the so-called wild men, and that of these the greatest group or
collection is found in the mountains of Northern Luzon.

These mountaineers or highlanders constitute perhaps, all other
things being equal, as interesting a body of uncivilized people as
is to be found on the face of the earth to-day. The Spaniards, of
course, soon discovered their existence, the first mention of them
being made by De Morga, in his "_Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas_"
(1609). He speaks [1] of them as inhabiting the interior of a rough
mountainous country, where are "many natives who are not pacified,
nor has anyone gone into their country, who call themselves Ygolotes,"
Here we have the first form, the classic form according to Retana, of
the word now universally written _Igorrote_, or in English _Igorot._
The word itself means "highlanders," _golot_ being a Tagalog word for
"mountain," and _I_ a prefix meaning "people of." De Morga mentions
the "Ygolotes" as owning rich mines of gold and silver, which "they
work as there is need," and he goes on to say that in spite of all
the diligence made to know their mines, and how they work and improve
them, the matter has come to naught, "because they are cautious with
the Spaniards who go to them in search of gold, and say they keep it
better guarded under ground than in their houses,"

The Spaniards at a very early date sent armed exploring parties
through the highlands and maintained garrisons here and there down
to our own time. [2] But they never really held the country.

The Church, too, early entered this territory, the field being given
over to the Dominicans, [3] who furnished many devoted missionaries
to the cause. But here, too, failure must be recorded in respect of
permanency of results in the really wild parts of the Highlands. It
has remained for our own Government to get a real hold of the people
of these regions, to win their confidence, command their respect,
and exact their obedience in all relations in which obedience is
proper and just.

The indispensable material condition of success was to make the
mountain country accessible. Only those who have had the fortune to
travel through this country can realize how difficult this endeavor
has been and must continue to be, chiefly because of the great local
complexity of the mountain system, but also because of the severely
destructive storms of this region, with consequent torrential violence
of the streams affected. But little money, too, can be, or has been,
spent for the necessary road-work. In spite of the difficulties
involved, however, a system of road-making has been set on foot,
the labor needed being furnished by the highlanders themselves in
lieu of a road tax. Very briefly, the system is as follows:

(_a_) The first thing done is to open what is known as the "meter
trail," i.e., a trail one meter wide, at a grade not to exceed 6
per cent, and where possible to be kept at 4 per cent. At certain
points where the absolute necessity exists, a 10 per cent grade is
admissible for very short distances, as at river crossings, but only
where a gentler grade would involve a long detour at great expense.

This "meter trail" weathers for one year, and thus automatically
develops its own weak spots. These are repaired as fast as discovered
(which is practically at once, by reason of constant supervision),
and the trail thus hardens, as it were, into something approaching

(_b_) The next step in the history of the trail is to widen it to
two meters, the same general course being followed as outlined in
(_a_). As a satisfactory state of permanency is reached we come to
(_c_) The final widening, draining, and metalling of the trail to
accommodate wagon traffic. The trail now becomes a permanent road.

In many cases only wooden tools have been available, and the lack of
money has compelled a sparing use of explosives. Nevertheless under
this system there now exist in the Mountain Province 730 miles of
excellent horse trail of easy grade, [4] and what is significant,
the people of the highlands are using these trails, and so becoming
peacefully acquainted with one another.

The Mountain Province itself is the outcome of the difficulties
encountered in governing the wild tribes so long as these were
left in provinces where either their interests were not paramount,
or else the difficulties of administration were unduly costly or
difficult. Established in 1908, it has a Governor, and each of its
seven sub-provinces a Lieutenant-Governor, the sub-province as far as
possible including people of one and of only one tribe. The creation
of this province was a great step forward in promoting the welfare
of the highlanders.

A word must be said here in explanation of the nomenclature of the
mountain tribes. Generically, having in mind the meaning of the word,
they are all Igorots. But it is the practice to distinguish the various
elements of this great family by different names, restricting the term
"Igorot" to special branches, as Benguet Igorot, Bontok Igorot, meaning
those who live in Benguet or Bontok. The other members are known as
Ifugao, Ilongot, Kalinga, and so on. [5] Lastly, the following extract
from the "Census of the Philippine Islands" [6] gives some idea of the
mountain system in which dwell the people whom we are about to visit.

"West of this Valley [the Cagayan] and separating it from the
China Sea, stands a broad and complex system of mountains, known as
the Caraballos Occidentales. Its length is nearly 200 miles, and
its breadth, including the great spurs and subordinate ranges and
ridges on either side, is fully one-third its length. The central
range of the system forms the divide between the waters flowing to
Cagayan River on the east and those flowing to the China Sea on the
west. Its northern part bears the name Cordillera Norte. Farther south
it is called Cordillera Central, while the southern portion is called
Cordillera Sur." "At its south end the Cordillera Sur swings to the
east, and, under the name of Caraballos Sur, joins the Sierra Madre,
or East Coast Range."

This description, it must be understood, gives no adequate idea of the
local intricacy of the system, while at the same time it is precisely
this intricacy, both vertical and horizontal, that increases the cost
and difficulty of making roads, and that has served in the past to
keep the inhabitants of these regions apart.


Annual inspection of the mountain tribes.--We set out from
Baguio.--Pangasinan Province.--Agno River.--Reception by the people.

Every year Mr. Worcester makes a formal tour of inspection through
the Mountain Province to note the progress of the trails and roads,
to listen to complaints, to hear reports, devise ways and means of
betterment and in general to see how the hillmen are getting on. This
tour is a very great affair to the highlanders, who are assembled
in as great numbers as possible at the various points where stops
are made; during the stay of the "Commission" (as Mr. Worcester is
universally called by the highlanders) at the points of assemblage,
the wild people are subsisted by the Government.

The trip is long and hard, nor is it altogether free from
danger. Preparations have to be made two months ahead to have forage
for animals, and food for human beings, at the expected halts, while
everything eaten by man or beast on the way must be carried by the
_cargadores_ (bearers) who accompany the column, since living off
the country is in general impossible. Under these circumstances but
very few guests can be invited. I was so fortunate as to be one of
these in 1910; how fortunate, I did not realize until the trip was
over. For although an American may ride alone unmolested through the
country we visited, still he would see only what might fall under his
eye as he made his way; whereas, on this official trip, thousands of
people are brought together at designated points, and one can thus
do and see in a month what it would take a much longer time to do
and see under one's own efforts.

This year (1910) the party was made up of Mr. Cameron Forbes, the
Governor-General of the Philippine Islands; Mr. Worcester, Secretary of
the Interior; Dr. Heiser, Director of Health; Dr. Strong, Chief of the
Biological Laboratory; Mr. Pack, Governor of the Mountain Province;
and of two officers besides myself, Captain Cootes, 13th Cavalry,
Aide de Camp to the Governor-General, and Captain Van Schaick,
16th Infantry, Governor of Mindoro. General Sir Harry Broadwood,
commanding His Majesty's forces at Hong Kong, had been invited, but at
the last moment cabled that his duties would prevent his coming. Unless
he reads this book he will never know what he missed! As we passed
through the various sub-provinces their respective governors and one
or two officials would join us and ride to the boundary.

On account of the difficulties of supply and transportation, we were
requested to bring no _muchachos_ (boys--i.e., servants), so we had to
shift for ourselves. Our baggage was very strictly limited; each man
being allowed two parcels, one of bedding, and the other of clothes,
neither to be more than could be easily carried on the back of a single
_cargador_. Mr. Worcester took along for the whole party an ingenious
apparatus of his own contrivance for boiling drinking-water, as all
streams in the Philippines at a level lower than 6,000 feet have been
found to contain amoebae, [7] the parasitic presence of which in the
intestines produces that frightful disease, amoebic dysentery. We were
especially desired to leave our revolvers at home, and had no escort.

Accordingly, our mounts and kit having been sent on a day or two in
advance, we set out from Baguio in motor-cars, April 26, at eight
A.M., of an extraordinarily fine day. The day before it had rained
mercilessly; not only that, but clouds and mists had enveloped us so
that one could not see twenty yards ahead. We were nearing the rainy
season, and conditions were uncertain, but this morning the gods were
on our side and we could not have asked for better weather. We went
down the splendid Benguet Road, following the bed of the Bued River [8]
to the railway, a drop of over 4,000 feet in thirteen miles. Strange
to say, the stream had not risen at all, a fortunate circumstance,
as one hundred and sixty bridges are crossed in the drop, and at
times a rise will wash out not only the bridges, but all semblance
of a road. [9] At the railway we turned south over the great plain
of Pangasinan. This, in respect of roads, is the show province of
the Archipelago and deserves its reputation, one hundred and twenty
miles having been built. Those we passed over this day would have
been called good in France even. Our passage was of the nature of
a progress, thanks to the presence of the Governor-General. Simple
bamboo arches crossing the road greeted us everywhere, Mr. Forbes
punctiliously raising his hat under every one. All the villages had
decorated their houses; handkerchiefs, petticoats, red table-cloths,
anything and everything had been hung out of the windows by way of
flags and banners. Across the front of the municipal building of one
village was stretched a banner with this inscription, "_En honor de
la venida del Gobernador General y de su Comitiva_" ("In honor of the
arrival of the Governor-General and of his retinue"), and then below on
the next band, "_Deseamos iener un pozo artesiano_" ("We should like
to have an Artesian well"), which led Mr. Worcester to remark that
four years before the banner would have demanded "_independencia_"
(independence), and not an Artesian well.

Even in Pangasinan, good roads must come to an end, and ours did as
we neared the Agno River. For this blessed river is a curse to its
neighborhood, and rises in flood from a stream say seventy-five yards
wide to a rushing lake, if the expression be permitted, half a mile
and more across. Our car finally refused to move; its wheels simply
turned _in situ_, so deep was the sand. There was nothing for it but
to walk to the river bank, where we were met with many apologies. A
bamboo bridge had been built across the stream a few days before so
that our cars might cross, but yesterday's rain had washed it down,
and would we try to cross on rafts? We looked at the rafts, bamboo
platforms built over large _bancas_ (canoes, double-enders cut out of a
single log), the bamboos being lashed together with _bejuco_ (rattan,
the native substitute for nails), and decided that no self-respecting
motor would stand such transportation, but would go to the bottom first
by overturning. So we got our stuff aboard the rafts, were poled over,
and made the rest of the journey to Tayug, our first considerable halt,
in _carromatas_ (the native two-wheeled, springless cart). Fortunately
the distance was short, the _carromata_ being an instrument of torture
happily overlooked by the Spanish Inquisition.

At Tayug a great concourse of people welcomed us, with arches, flags,
and decorations. The _presidencia_, or town hall, was filled with the
notabilities, and Mr. Forbes was presented with an address by one of
the _senoritas_. Suitable answer having been made, we adjourned, the
men first, the women following when we had done, according to native
custom, to the side rooms, where a surprisingly good tiffin had been
got ready for us, venison, chickens, French rolls, _dulces_ (sweets),
whiskey and soda, Heaven knows what else, to which, all unwitting of
our doom, we did full justice. About two miles beyond Tayug lies San
Francisco, the initial point of our real mounted journey. The people
along this part of the road had simply outdone themselves in the matter
of arches, there being one at every hundred yards almost. At San
Francisco the crowd was greater than at Tayug; and here was set out
for us another sumptuous tiffin, in a house built the day before for
this very purpose, of bamboo and nipa palm. Access to it was had by a
ladder and we sat down at a table, while the _senoras_ of the place
waited on us, every inch of standing-room being occupied by people
who had crowded in to see the performance of the Governor-General and
of his _comitiva!_ And perform we did--we had to! Ducks, chickens,
venison, _camotes_ (sweet potatoes), peppers, beer, red wine--no one
would have thought that but three-quarters of an hour before we had
just gone through the same thing. But it would have been the height
of discourtesy to give way to our inclination by showing a lack of
appetite; moreover, it is not often that a party is held in a house
built to be used merely one hour. So we did honor to the occasion,
but had to let out our belts before mounting immediately afterward.


Padre Juan Villaverde.--His great trail.--The beginning of the
mountain journey.--Nozo.

The point to which we had come, San Francisco, marks the beginning of
the Juan Villaverde trail from the Central Valley of Luzon through
the mountains before us, to the province of Nueva Vizcaya. All day
the chain we were to pierce had been in sight, and I for one had been
wondering where we were to find a practicable entrance, so forbiddingly
vertical did the range appear to be.

Now the Spaniards in the Philippines at best were but poor road-
or trail-makers. Indeed, in the matter of trails they were simply
stupid, in some cases actually going straight up a hill and down
the other side, when the way around was no longer, and of course far
easier to maintain. But Padre Juan Villaverde of the Dominicans was
a great and honorable exception. Quite apart from this aspect, we
hear so much that is evil of the friars that it is a pleasure, when
possible, to point out the good they did, a thing more frequently
possible than people imagine it is. For Father Villaverde gave his
life to missionary work among the hill-people, seeking in every way to
better their condition materially as well as morally. Born in 1841,
as early as 1868 we find him on duty at Bayombong, in Nueva Vizcaya,
the province we were about to enter. From the first he seems to have
been impressed by the possibilities of the country in which he was
laboring; and, foreseeing that good communications would ultimately
settle most of the questions relating to the highlanders, he built
trails, trails that are still in use, whereas nearly all the others
(but few in number) established by the Spaniards have been abandoned by
us, where Nature has not indeed saved us the trouble by washing them
out of existence. For thirty years Villaverde worked unceasingly,
building roads and bridges and churches, and striving to civilize
the people among whom he lived; but his chief work, that by which
his memory is kept green to this day, is the great trail from the
otherwise almost inaccessible province of Nueva Vizcaya, across the
Caraballos to the Central Valley of Luzon, where access to the outer
world by rail becomes possible. This trail is officially designated
by his name, and is maintained by Government. This was the one we
were about to enter upon. [10] Accordingly we thanked our kind hosts
of San Francisco; and at last set out on our real trip. But, curious
and eager as I felt to engage upon it, I could not help regretting that
this part of our journey was over, that we had to turn our backs on the
smiling plains of Pangasinan, its hospitable and courteous people. The
day had been so cool and fresh, and our progress so easy; flat as
was the country, it had its charm, the charm of cultivated plains,
relieved by lanes of feathered bamboos, by clumps of nodding palms,
by limpid streams. But we were off, nevertheless, the Governor-General
on a cow-pony, nearly all the rest on Arabs and thoroughbreds, Van
Schaick and I riding mountain ponies. We had fifteen miles to go to
reach our first resting-place.

Crossing a stream, we began to climb at once, and as we rose the
plain of Central Luzon began to unroll itself below us, with our road
of the morning stretching out in a straight white line through the
green rice-fields. Far to the west we now and then caught glimpses of
Lingayen Gulf, with the Zambales Mountains in full view running south
and bordering the plain, while still farther to the south Mount Arayat
[11] rose abruptly from its surrounding levels. Now Arayat is plainly
visible from Manila. Here and there solitary rocky hills, looking for
all the world like ant-heaps, but in reality hundreds of feet high,
broke the uniformity of the plains. Flooded as the whole landscape
was with brilliant sunshine, the view was exquisite in respect both of
form and of color. But as we moved on, turning and twisting and ever
rising, we were soon confined to just the few yards the sinuosities
of the trail would allow us to see at one time. For a part of the way
the country was rocky, hills bare and fire-swept; not a tree or shrub
suggested that we were in the tropics. Soon pines began to appear,
and then thickened, till the trail led through a pine forest, pure and
simple, the ground covered with green grass, and the whole fresh and
moist from recent rains. It was up and down and around and around. Not
a sign of animal life did we see, not a trace of human beings.

I was disgusted, and still more disconcerted, this afternoon, to find
my pony going badly. He was perfectly willing to walk, but at a most
dignified rate, selected by himself. He apparently had no objection to
catching up the party every now and then, but only to relapse into his
funeral walk, after contact had been re-established. But then Cootes
took the lead that afternoon, and as his thoroughbred had had two days'
rest, and breasted all the rises with apparent joyousness, nobody was
able to keep up, until Mr. Worcester took the head with his black,
a powerful but reasonable animal. However, everybody gets into camp
sooner or later, and so did we all at a resting-point called Nozo,
where we all turned in after supper, for reveille was to be at three
o'clock. This had been a great day of contrasts in a descending scale,
from motors, electric lights, and telephones in the morning to our
solitary camp in the mountains at night, surrounded by watch-fires
and guarded by Constabulary sentinels. This, by the way, was the only
time we were so guarded.


Early start.--Pine forest.--Vegetation.--Rest at Amugan.--The

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 Tomas, near which we had passed yesterday on coming down from
Baguio. 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 Pangasinan 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 _canao_. 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 _canao_ 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 Fe, 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 Bone, our resting-place
for the night.


Aritao.--_Bubud_.--Dupax.--Start for Campote.

We all slept in the school-house, for Bone is a Christianized village,
and next day, April 28th, made a late start, for it was to be a
day of easy stages. By nine oclock, passing through an undulating
champaign country, we reached Aritao, being met at the outskirts
by _gansa_-beaters and also by the Christian school-children with
medieval-looking banners, and all in their best bibs and tuckers;
the heathen and the Christians mingling apparently on the best of
terms. Aritao is an old town, now much decayed, but showing evidences
of former affluence. It has a brick church, the bells of which were
rung on our approach.

As there is some Government here, of course we had to pay a visit
of ceremony, and were accordingly received by the _presidente_ and
other dignitaries in an upper chamber, the little children with
their banners massing around the gate of the house and forming a
really pretty picture. When we were all in, the _presidente_ made
the Governor-General and his suite a dignified speech of welcome,
very well done, to which Mr. Forbes made answer in fluent and pretty
good Spanish.

_Bubud_ was then passed about--but this is going too fast! _Bubud_
(called _tapuy_ elsewhere) is an institution in the parts where we now
were, and I had been hearing of it for days. It is the native (Ifugao)
name of a drink produced by the fermentation of rice, a drink that
varies in color and in flavor, according to the care taken in its make,
but nearly always agreeable to the palate and refreshing. That offered
us to-day was greenish yellow, slightly acid and somewhat bitter from
the herbs added. Unfortunately, it will not bear transportation,
but we made up for this by carrying off personally as much as was
convenient. It had a happy effect on my pony, too: all the way to
Aritao he had been slower than the wrath to come, but from this on he
showed life and spirit; in fact, he danced and pranced through every
town we crossed for some days afterward. I always meant to ask if some
one had given him any _bubud_ at Aritao, during the speech-making;
on reflection I am inclined to doubt it, but at any rate, in honor
of the circumstances, he was known as Bubud the rest of the trip.

A short ride through the charming, smiling country (part of it might
have been France), over a really good road most of the way, brought
us to Dupax. On the way we were met by some of the American officials
of the province, among them Mr. Norman Connor, Superintendent of
Education (Yale, 1900), and by two Belgian priests, De Wit of Dupax
and Van der Maes of Bayombong. The natives met us, all mounted, with
a band, so that we made a triumphant entrance, advancing in line to
the _presidente's_ house, while the church-bell pealed out a welcome.

Dupax must, like Aritao, have been a point of some importance in the
past. It has a large brick church with a decidedly Flemish facade,
and a detached pagoda-like belfry. Its streets are overgrown with fine
soft grass, and its houses had somehow or other an air of comfort and
ease. Here we made quite a stop, first of all quenching our thirst with
_bubud_, beer, cocoanut milk, anything, everything, for we had ridden
nearly all the way so far in the sun. We then sat down to an excellent
breakfast, and smoked and lounged about until two, when fresh ponies
were brought, and we set off on a side trip to Campote, where we were
to have our first contact with the real wild man, the Ilongot. [12]


The Ilongots and their country.--Efforts of our Government to reach
these people.--The forest trail.--Our first contact with the wild man.

These people, the Ilongots, although very few in number, only six
thousand, stretch from Nueva Vizcaya to the Pacific Coast, inhabiting
an immense region of forested and all but inaccessible mountains. Over
these they roam without any specially fixed habitation. They have the
reputation, and apparently deserve it, of being cruel and treacherous,
as they certainly are shy and wild. It was these people who killed
Doctor Jones, of the Marshall Field Museum, after he had been with
them eight or nine months. So recently as 1907 they made a descent on
Dupax, killing people and taking their heads. When they mean to kill a
man fairly, according to their ideas, they hand him a fish. This is a
signal that he must be on his guard: to refuse the fish is of no use,
because by so doing one puts one's self beyond the pale, and may be
killed in any fashion. We heard a story here of a Negrito stealing a
pig from two Ilongots who had a Negrito brother-in-law. Failing to
recover the pig, they decided that they must have a Negrito head,
and so took their brother-in-law's. Pig-stealing, by the way, in
the mountain country is regarded much as horse-stealing used to be
out West. Besides the spear and head knife, the Ilongots, like the
Negritos, with whom they have intermarried to a certain extent, use
the bow and arrow, and are correspondingly dreaded. For it seems to be
believed in Luzon that bow-and-arrow savages are more dangerous than
spear-and-ax-men; that the use of this projectile weapon, the arrow,
induces craftiness, hard to contend against. An Ilongot can silently
shoot you in the back, after you have passed. A spear-man has to get
closer, and can not use an ambush so readily. [13]

Now our Government in the Philippines, by and through and because
of Mr. Worcester, had made repeated efforts to reach these Ilongots,
to bring them in, as it were, and only recently had these efforts met
with any success. For one thing, it is a very serious matter to seek
them out in the depths of their fastnesses if only because of the
difficulty of reaching them; many of them even now have never seen a
white man, and would escape, if I recollect aright, on the approach of
our people. But in 1908 some fifty of them did "come in," and, gaining
confidence, this number grew to one hundred and fifty in 1909. They,
or some of them at least, now sent an invitation to Mr. Worcester
to come and see them, and he accepted on condition of their making
a trail, saying that they could not expect a man of his stature to
creep through their country on his hands and knees. This trail they
had built, and they had assembled at Campote, four hours from Dupax,
for this first formal visit; It was the desire of Mr. Worcester
that this visit should be happy in all respects; for, if not, the
difficulties of intercourse with this people, already great, would
be so seriously increased as to delay the civilizing intentions of
the Government for many years to come.

We rode off at about two o'clock, passing under numberless
bamboo arches, on an astonishingly good road, built by Padre Juan
Villaverde. About two miles out we left the road, turning off east
across rice-paddies, and then followed a stream, which we crossed
near the foot of a large bare mountain facing south. Up this we
zigzagged four miles, a tiresome stretch with the sun shining full
upon us. But at the top we had our reward: to the south reached a
beautiful open valley, its floor a mass of green undulations, its
walls purple mountains blazing in the full glory of the afternoon
sun. At the extreme south, miles away, we could make out Las Salinas,
Salt Springs, [14] whose deposits sparkled and shone and scintillated
and danced in the heated air. Grateful as it would have been to rest
at the top and enjoy the scene, we nevertheless had to turn our backs
upon it, for we had yet far to go over an unknown trail, and it was
most desirable to get in before dark. So we turned and now plunged
into a forest of tall trees so thick overhead and so deeply buried in
vines, and creepers and underbrush generally, that just as no light
got in from above, so one could not see ten yards in any direction
off the trail. This effect was no doubt partly due to the shades of
evening, and to our being on the eastern slope of the mountain. And
that trail! The Ilongots, poor chaps, had done their best with it,
and the labor of construction must have been fearful. [15] But the
footing was nothing but volcanic mud, laterite, all the worse from
a recent rain. Our ponies sank over their fetlocks at every step,
and required constant urging to move at all. Compared to the one
I was riding, Bubud was a race-horse! Cootes, Strong, and I kept
together, the others having ridden on. As the day grew darker and
darker, the myriad notes of countless insects melted into one mighty,
continuous shrill note high overhead, before us, behind us, in which
not one break or intermission could be detected. Anything faster than
a walk would now have been unsafe, even if it had been possible, for
at times the ground sloped off sharply down the mountain, the footing
grew more and more uncertain, and part of the time we could not see
the trail at all. Indeed, Cootes's pony stepped in a hole and fell,
pitching Cootes clean over his head, and sending his helmet down the
mountain-side, where Cootes had to go and get it. Soon after this,
though, the forest thinned perceptibly, the trail grew better, and
we met Connor, who had turned back to see how we were getting on,
and who informed us we had only one-half hour more before us. Going
on, we were greeted by a shout of welcome from our first Ilongot,
standing in the trail, subligate, or gee-stringed, otherwise stark
naked, and armed with a spear, the sentinel of a sort of outpost,
equally naked, with which we soon came up. They were all armed, too,
spears and shields, and all insisted on shaking hands with every
one of us. You must shake hands when they offer to, an unpleasant
matter sometimes, when you notice that the man who is paying you this
attention is covered with _toenia imbricata_, or other rare tropical
skin disease. [16] _Noblesse oblige_, here as elsewhere; besides,
a consideration for your own skin may require you to put aside your
prejudices. The trail now turned down over a broad, cleared hog-back,
at the flattened end of which we could see two shacks and a temporary
shed for our mounts. Smoke was rising cheerfully in the air and people
were moving about. This was Campote.


School at Campote.--Our white pony, and the offer made for his tail.

It was too dark by this time to see or do much. We had supper, looked
up the place where we were to sleep, and then collected at the lower
of the two shacks. Here we received visits, so to say, from as many
Ilongots, grown men only, as could get into the place. In truth,
we were as much objects of curiosity to them as they possibly could
have been to us. To Mr. Worcester the occasion was one of business,
explaining through interpreters why we had come, what the Government
wanted, getting acquainted with the _cabecillas_ (head men), and
listening to what they had themselves to say. One of our visitors was
a grandfather, remarkable, first, because of his heavy long beard,
and, second, because his own grandfather was alive; five generations
of one family in existence at the same time.

Campote, I may as well say it here as anywhere else, is merely a
point where Connor has established a school for children, under
a Christianized Filipino teacher. Some thirty children in all are
under instruction, the average attendance being twenty-four. It is
almost impossible, so Connor told us, to make these people understand
why children should go to school, or what a school is, or is for,
anyway. However, a beginning has been made. They all have a dose of
"the three Rs"; the boys are taught, besides, carpentry, gardening,
and rope-making, and the girls sewing, weaving, and thread-making
from cotton grown by the boys on the spot. They ought to show some
skill in all these arts; for the native rice-basket is a handsome,
strong affair, square of cross-section, with sides flaring out, and
about three feet high, and some of their weapons show great manual
skill. The garden was on show the next morning, displaying beans,
tomatoes, cotton, perhaps other things that I failed to recognize
or have forgotten, anyway, a sufficient garden. There is besides an
exchange here for the sale of native wares.

One of our party had ridden a white pony, and was much amused, as
were all of us, to receive an offer for his tail! There is nothing
else the Ilongots hold in higher estimation than white horse-hair,
and here was a pony with a tail full of it! But the offer was refused;
the idea of cutting off the tail was not to be entertained for one
moment. Certainly, he might keep its tail: what they wanted was the
hair. Would he sell the hair? No; that was only a little less bad
than to sell the tail itself.

On our way back to the shack in which some of us were to sleep (the
school-house it was) we noticed an admiring crowd standing around the
pony, tethered under the house, and all unconscious of the admiration
he was exciting, most rudely presenting his hind-quarters to his
admirers. But that was not his intention; the crowd--half women,
by the way--wanted to be as close to the tail as possible. We left
them gesticulating and pointing and commenting, much as our own
women might while looking at crown jewels, but not so hopelessly;
for the next morning, when we next saw the pony, nearly all the hair
had been pulled out of his tail, except a few patches or tufts here
or there, tougher than the rest, and serving now merely to show what
the original dimensions must have been.

While we were undressing in came a little maiden, who marched up
to every one of us, shook hands, and said, "Good evening, sir." We
were pretty well undressed, but our lack of clothes looked perfectly
natural to her, perhaps inspired her with confidence. She said her
name was Banda, that she was thirteen, but of this she could not know,
as all these children had had ages assigned to them when they entered
the school; after greeting us all, and airing her slight stock of
English, she withdrew as properly as she had entered. A trifling
incident, perhaps not worth recording, but in reality significant,
for it marked confidence, especially as she had come in of her own
accord. We all agreed that she was very pretty.


Appearance of the Ilongots.--Dress.--Issue of beads and cloth.--Warrior
dance.--School work.--Absence of old women from meeting.

The next morning we turned out early, and got our first real
"look-see." Campote is completely surrounded by mountains, the
hogback dropping off into the valley below us. About four or five
hundred people had assembled, men, women, and children. As a rule,
they were small and well built, but not so well built as the tribes
farther north. The men were fully armed with spears, bows and arrows,
shields, and head-knives; gee-strings apart, they were naked. Some of
them wore on the head the scarlet beak of the hornbill; these had taken
heads. Quite a number, both men and women, had a small cross-like
pattern tattooed on the forehead; the significance of this I did
not learn. The shield is in one piece, in longitudinal cross-section
like a very wide flat V open toward the bearer, the top terminating
in a piece rising between two scoops, one on each side of the median
line. The women had on short skirts and little jackets (like what,
I am told, we call bolero jackets), the bosom being bare. Around
the waist they wore bands of brass wire or of bamboo stained red and
wound around with fine brass wire. These bamboo bands were pretty and
artistic. You saw the children as they happened to be; the only thing
to note about them being that they were quite bright-looking. What
the men lacked in clothes they made up in their hair, for they wore
it long and some of them had it done up in the most absolute Psyche
knots. Such earrings as we saw were worn in the upper cartilage of
the ear. It may be remarked, too, that the women had a contented and
satisfied air, as though sure of their power and position; we found
this to be the case generally throughout the Mountain Country.

The purpose of the visit being to cultivate pleasant relations with and
receive the confidence of these shy people, the real business of the
day was soon opened. Mr. Worcester took his place in the shade of his
shack, and proceeded to the distribution of red calico, beads, combs,
mirrors, and other small stuff, the people coming up by _rancherias_
(settlements or villages); none of the highlanders seem to have any
conception of tribal organization, a condition no doubt due to the
absence of communications. A _cabecilla_, or head man, would receive
two meters, his wife one, and others smaller measures. This sort
of thing was carefully studied out, so far as rank was concerned,
for it would never do to give a common person even approximately
as much as a _cabecilla_. One _rancheria_ would take all red beads,
another white, another blue, and so on. Not once did I see a trace
of greediness or even eagerness, though interest was marked. The
whole thing was conducted in the most orderly fashion, the various
_rancherias_ awaiting their turn with exemplary patience. [17]

The issue over, dancing began. In this only men and boys took part,
to the music of small rude fiddles, tuned in fifths, [18] played by
the men, and of a queer instrument consisting of two or three joints of
bamboo with strings stretched over bridges, beaten with little sticks
by the women. The fiddles must be of European origin. The orchestra,
seven or eight all told, sat in the shade, surrounded by an admiring
crowd. Among them was a damsel holding a civilized umbrella over her
head, whereof the stick and the rib-points were coquettishly decorated
with white horse-hair tied in little brushes, doubtless furnished by
our white pony.

The dancing at once fixed our attention. Two or three men, though
usually only two, took position on the little terreplein below the
shack, and began a slow movement, taking very short, formal, staccato
steps in a circle against the sun. Keeping back to back and side to
side, they maintained the whole body in a tense, rigid posture with
the chest out, head up and thrown back, abdomen drawn in, right hand
straight out, the left also, holding a shield, eyes glazed and fixed,
knees bent forward. Between the steps, the dancers would stand in
this strained, tense position, then move forward a few inches, and so
on around the circle. After a little of this business, for that is
just what it was, the next part came on, a simulation of fighting:
and, as everything before was as stiff, strained, and rigid as it
was possible to be, so now everything was light, graceful, agile,
and quick; leaps forward and back, leaps sideways, the two combatants
maneuvering, as it were, one around the other, for position. It was
hard to realize that human motions could be so graceful, light and
easy. Then head-knives were drawn, and cuts right, and cuts left,
cuts at every part of the body from the head to the ankles, were
added to the motion; the man on the defensive for the moment making
suitable parries with his shield.

The dance completed, the dancers would advance and face Mr. Worcester,
put their heels together in true military fashion, hold their arms out
right and left, and make a slight inclination of the head, a sort of
salute, in fact, to the one they regarded as the principal personage
of the party.

We saw much dancing later on in our trip, but none that equalled this
in intensity and character, apart from its being of a totally different
kind, Heiser managed, with some difficulty, to take a photograph of
the tense phase of one of the dances; it gives a better idea of the
phase than my imperfect description.

The dancing was followed by archery, the target being a small banana
stem at some thirty paces. This calls for no especial comment,
except that many hits were made, and many of the misses would have
hit a man. More interesting was an ambush they laid for us, to show
how they attacked. While collecting for it, to our astonishment the
entire party suddenly ran in all directions at top speed and hid
behind whatever offered. On their return, in four or five minutes,
they explained that a spirit had suddenly appeared among them, and
that they had had to run. On our asking how they knew a spirit had
turned up, they asked if we had not noticed leaves and grass flying in
a spiral. As a matter of fact, some of us had, a very small and very
gentle whirlwind having formed for a second or two. They had seen it,
too, and that was the spirit.

It was now mid-day; we had _tiffin_, and began preparations for
our departure. The various arms, shields, and other things we had
bought were collected to be cargadoed back to Pangasinan. Among them,
alas! were not two beautiful head-knives, which their wearers had
absolutely declined to part with on any terms whatever. They resisted
the Governor-General even. I give a photograph here of a knife and
scabbard that Connor sent me on later. It is a handsome one, but not
as handsome as those two jewels!

Our last performance was to look at the garden and to see the school
at work, making thread and rope, weaving mats, and so on. I take it
that this school was really the significant thing at Campote, apart
from the significance of the occasion itself. We spent but little time
over it, however, our interest in the arts of war having left us only
a few minutes for those of peace. Nevertheless, here is a beginning
that will bear fruit, and in the meantime Connor rides alone and
in safety among these wild people, which proves a good many things,
when you select the right man to do your hard work.

Mr. Worcester, as we rode off, expressed the liveliest satisfaction
with the meeting. These people, returning to their _rancherias_, he
said, would talk for a year of their treatment at the hands of the
Americans, of the gift of _palay_ (rice) to four hundred people,
for two days, to say nothing of two _vacas_ (cows) and of other
gifts. Next year, he hoped, half of them would come in; besides, the
start made was good; the presence of so many women and children was a
good sign, and equally good was the total absence of old women. For
these are a source of trouble and mischief with their complaints of
the degeneracy of the times. They address themselves particularly
to the young men, accusing them of a lack of courage and of other
parts, taunting them with the fact that the young women will have
none of them, that in _their_ day _their_ young men brought in heads,
etc. Thus it has happened, especially when any native drink was going
about, that trouble has followed. It is the practice, therefore,
of our Government when arranging these meetings to suggest that the
old women be left at home, and if so left, it is a good indication.


Return to civilization.--Reception at Bambang.--Aglipayanos and

The return to the main road from Campote was a great improvement over
the advance. The sun had partly dried the trail, and his vertical rays
enabled us to see about us a little, and realize what a tremendous
phenomenon tropical vegetation can be. Some Philippine trees, for
example, the _narra_, throw out buttresses. One we saw on this trail
must have measured twenty feet across on the ground, from vertex to
vertex of diametrically opposite buttresses, the bole itself not being
over two and one-half feet in diameter, and the buttresses starting
about fifteen feet above the ground. But the greatest difference
to me personally was in my mount, Connor having lent me his pony,
as admirable as mine of the day before had been wretched. In spite
of the fact that Connor had to stay behind at Campote and could catch
us up later, this attention on his part was one of the most generous
things that ever happened to me, for certainly the pony he got from
me was the most irritating piece of horseflesh imaginable. I am glad
publicly to give him my warmest thanks again! Mr. Worcester was well
mounted, too; he rode this day at two hundred and thirty-five pounds,
and his kit must have weighed some thirty more, yet his little beast
carried him soundly to Bambang, our destination, about seventeen
miles, twelve of them at a "square, unequivocal" trot, by no means
an unusual example of the strength and endurance of some of these
native ponies. In what seemed a very short time (but the trail was
comparatively dry) we broke out of the forest, and again had our
lovely valley below and in front of us. At the top we saw some giant
fly-catchers, a bird of so powerful and erratic a flight that no
one has so far, according to Mr. Worcester, succeeded in killing one
of them. It may be mentioned here that we saw very few birds or any
other animals on our journey. Shortly after beginning the descent,
some of the party, impatient of the zig-zags, decided to go straight
down, the temptation being a cool green stream at the foot of the
mountain; half an hour afterward, on turning a point, we could see
them disporting themselves in the waters, and at that distance looking
very much like Diana and her nymphs in the usual pictures.

Back in the main road, we stopped to rest at a point covered with
a sensitive plant so delicate that, on stepping on it anywhere, the
nervous thrill, if that is what it is, would run three or four feet
or more in all directions before dying down. From this point we turned
north, our way taking us through a broad open valley, past rice-fields
and between clumps of flowering guava bushes. As we neared Bambang,
where we were to spend the night, we were as before met by the local
notabilities on horseback; and breasting a rise, we saw our road down
in the plain in which this town lies, lined on both sides by all the
school-children of the place, dressed in their very best clothes, some
of them American fashion with shoes and stockings and looking mighty
uncomfortable in consequence. Nearly everyone had a flag. Riding into
the town, we found the _plaza_ crowded with men and women, dressed
mostly in white, and what with the flags, the church-bells clanging
with all their might, the crowd, and the children trooping in, our
cavalcade made a triumphant entrance.

We dismounted at the _presidente's_, where muscatel and cocoanut milk
were given us. A little muscatel goes a long way, but this is not true
of the milk when one's tongue is hanging out from riding in the sun,
and there are only two or three cocoanuts. Filipinos apparently are
not fond of this drink, and we nearly always had to send out and
get more. No sooner were we in the house than addresses began, one
of these being in Ilokano. The native language of Bambang, however,
is the Isanay, spoken elsewhere only at Aritao and Dupax, a dying
tongue, doomed to early extinction.

Bambang, like nearly all the other Nueva Vizcaya towns we had seen
or were to see, shows signs of decadence. It has a good church and
_convento_, a great _plaza_, and is surrounded by a fertile country,
but something is missing. After dinner, I went over and called on
the padre, one of the Belgians, whom we had met the day before. He
informed me that Bambang had many Protestants, which he explained by
the sharp rivalry between the _Aglipayanos_, or members of the "native"
church, headed by the secessionist Aglipay, and the Catholics. To
avoid the issues raised by this rivalry, many natives would appear
to have abandoned the errors of Rome (or of _Aglipayanismo_, as the
case may be) for those of the Reformation.

When I got back to the _presidente's_, everybody had turned in, and the
house was dark. However, I found a bed not occupied by anyone else, but
of my bedding there was not a sign. So I stretched out on the _petate_
[19] of my bed, only to wake up later shivering with cold, which I
tried to remedy by fishing around for cover in a pile of straw mats,
from which I extracted what turned out in the morning to be a _jusi_
table-cloth, through which you could have shot straws. It is altogether
a mistake to imagine that one can not be cold in the tropics.


Magat River.--Enthusiastic reception at Bayombong.--Speeches and
reports.--Solano.--Ifugao "college yell."--Bagabag.

The next day, April 20, we rode out at six, a splendid morning;
Bubud felt the inspiration, too, for he got on capitally. We soon
reached the Magat River on the other side of which was Bayombong,
the capital of the province and our first halt of the day.

The Magat is another of those turbulent, uncertain rivers of the
Archipelago; we were not sure as we neared it whether we could get
over or not. When up, it carries waves in midstream six to seven feet
from crest to trough. But we had no such ill-luck, and _bancas_ soon
came over for us, the horses swimming. While waiting for them we had
a chance to admire the beautiful country; on one side tall spreading
trees and broad savannahs, on the other the mountain presenting a
bare scarp of red rock many hundreds of feet high; immediately in
front the cool, green river, over all the brilliant sun, not yet too
hot to prevent our thinking of other things.

Once over, we had no occasion to complain of our reception! All
the notabilities were present, of course, mounted, but in addition
there were three bands, all playing different tunes at the same time,
in different keys, and all _fortissimo_. No instrument was allowed
to rest, the drums being especially vigorous. One of the bands was
that of the Constabulary, playing really well, and with magnificent
indifference to the other two. I am bound to say they returned
it. We had the Constabulary troops, too, as escort, a well set-up,
well-turned-out and soldierlike body. What with the bands, the pigs,
the dogs, the horses, the children, the people, it was altogether
one of the most delightful confusions conceivable, not the least
interesting feature being the happy unconsciousness of the people
of the incongruity of the reception. However, we formed a column,
the Constabulary at the head, with its band, and were played into
Bayombong, with the other bands, children, dogs, etc., as a mighty
rear guard.

Our first business was to listen to reports and addresses. So we
all went upstairs in the Government House, the _presidencia_; the
Governor-General, Mr. Worcester, and the _presidente_ took their seats
on a dais, while the rest of us, with the local Americans and some of
the native inhabitants, formed the audience, and listened to a report
read by the treasurer. This made a great impression on us, so sensible
and businesslike was it; not content with a statement, it went on to
describe the affairs of the province, the possibilities of agriculture,
and what could be accomplished if the people would turn to and work,
and in particular it made no complaints. Apparently this report alarmed
the _presidente_, for he left his seat on the platform as soon as
he decently could, and delivered a speech intended to traverse the
treasurer's report. His concern was almost comic: the idea of saying to
the Governor-General that a great deal could be done locally by work,
when there was a central Government at Manila! Mr. Forbes, as usual,
made in his turn a very sound speech, based on his observation in
the province, on its fertility, its possibilities, the necessity of
improving communications and of diversifying crops. I noticed here,
as elsewhere in the province, the excellence of the Spanish used in
speeches. As for the treasurer, we were informed that he had been taken
in hand at an early age by the Americans and trained, so that in making
his reports he had developed the ability to look upon the merits of
the question in hand. But he must feel himself to be a unique person!

We rested here in Bayombong through the heat of the day, part going to
Governor Bryant's house, the rest of us to that of Captain Browne, the
local Inspector of Constabulary. I have a grateful recollection of his
hospitality, as well as of that of his brother officers, with whom we
dined. Nor must I forget the Standard Oil Company. For had not Browne
rigged up a shower, consisting of the Standard five-gallon tin? A
_muchacho_ filled it with water and pulled it up over a pulley, and
you got an excellent shower from the holes punched in the bottom. In
fact, the Standard five-gallon tin is as well known in the East as
its contents, and is carefully preserved and used. We had several
opportunities to bless its existence.

Pleasant as was the nooning, it had to end: we mounted and rode on
to Solano. On the way Bubud insisted on drinking from a dirty swamp
by the roadside, although there was a limpid stream not fifty yards
ahead which he could see as well as I. But there was nothing for
it but the swamp; I accordingly let him have his way, only to find
the bank slippery and the water deep, so that he went in up to his
shoulders, with his hindquarters on the bank. While I was trying to
pull him back, he got in his hindquarters, and then, in further answer
to my efforts, sat down in the water! And such water! Thick, greasy,
smelly! A _carabao_ wallow it was. He now gave unmistakable evidence of
an intention to lie down, when a friendly hand got me up on the bank,
whereupon Bubud, concluding he would get out too, emerged with a coat
of muddy slime. This seemed to have no effect whatever on his spirits,
for on entering Solano a few minutes later, to the sound of bells
and bands, with banners fluttering in the breeze, he got into such
a swivet that before I knew it he was at the head of the procession,
having worked himself forward and planted himself squarely in front
of the Governor-General's horse, where he caracoled and curvetted and
pranced to his heart's delight. As soon as we got out of the _barrio_,
he was quite satisfied to take a more modest position, but occasions
of ceremony seemed to deprive him of all realization of his proper
place in the world.

The people of Solano made a great effort to have us stay the night,
but it was impossible; we had to get on to Bagabag. Solano, by the way,
is the commercial emporium of this end of the province, for there
is not a single shop in Bayombong. So on we went, through a calm,
dignified afternoon, the country as before impressing me with its open,
smiling valleys, its broad fields, its air of expectant fertility,
inviting one to come scratch its surface, if no more, in order to
reap abundant harvests. In fact, it seemed to me that we were riding
through typical farming land at home, instead of through a Malay valley
under the tropic. And if anything more were needed to strengthen the
illusion, it was a college yell, given by a gang of Ifugaos (the people
we were now immediately on our way to visit) repairing a bridge we had
to cross! They did it in style, and naturally had no cheer-leader;
time was kept by beating on the floor of the bridge with tools. For
this uttering of a shout of welcome or of other emotion in unison is a
characteristic trait of the Ifugaos, like their using spoons, and can
be likened to nothing else in the world but our American college yell.

Our reception at Bagabag was much like all the others we had had:
bands, arches, addresses, one in excellent English. But on this
occasion, after listening to a speech telling how poor the people were,
how bad the roads were, how much they needed Government help, etc.,
etc., Mr. Forbes squared off in his answer, and told them a few things,
as that he had seen so far not a single lean, hungry-looking person,
that the elements were kindly, that they could mend their own roads,
and that he was tired of their everlasting complaint of poverty and
hunger, when a little work would go a great way in this country toward
bettering their material condition. This, of course, is just the kind
of talk these people need, and the last some of them wish to hear.


We enter the Mountain Province.-Payawan.--Kiangan, its
position.--Anitos.--Speech of welcome by Ifugao chief.--Detachment of
native Constabulary.--Visit of Ifugao chiefs to our quarters.--Dancing.

We were now on the borders of the Mountain Province; literally one more
river to cross, and we should turn our backs on Nueva Vizcava. And
with regret, for it is a beautiful smiling province, of fertile
soil, of polite and hospitable people, of lovely mountains, limpid
streams and triumphant forests. In Dampier's quaint words, spoken of
another province, but equally true of this one, "The Valleys are well
moistened with pleasant Brooks, and small Rivers of delicate Water; and
have Trees of divers sorts flourishing and green all the Year." [20]
Its people lack energy, perhaps because they have no roads; it may be
equally true that they lack roads because they have no energy. However
this may be, the province can and some day will grow coffee, tobacco,
rice, and cocoa to perfection; its savannahs will furnish pasturage
for thousands of cattle, where now some one solitary _carabao_ serves
only to mark the solitude in which he stands.

We crossed the stream about seven in the morning, May 1, and opened
out on an immense field, which we estimated at about thirty-five
hundred acres, a whole plantation in a ring fence, and offering not
the slightest suggestion of the tropics in its aspect. The ground now
broke and we went on down to a bold stream so deep that those of us
riding ponies got wet above the knees and were almost swept down by
the current. The _cogon_ grass in this river bottom was the tallest I
ever saw, some clumps being well over twenty feet high. Then we began
to climb till we reached another divide, across the stream at the
foot of which was Payawan, our immediate objective. Payawan consists
of two shacks and a name. Here we were to have had our first meeting
with the clans of the Ifugao, but through some misunderstanding they
took the place of meeting to be at Kiangan, some, miles further on;
so we all rested a while, and some of us took a swim in the little
river we had just crossed, finding the water on first shock almost
cold, but delightful beyond belief. Cootes and I were quite satisfied
with the pool we found near the shack, but Strong and the rest thought
they saw a better one downstream, so they crawled in the water around
a small cliff, reached their pool, and then had to walk a mile and
a half through the _cogon_ and in the sun to return, there being no
getting back upstream. Now, if there is anything else hotter on the
face of the earth than a walk through the _cogon_ in the dry season
with the sun shining vertically down, it has yet to be discovered.

At Payawan we were met by Captain Jeff D. Gallman, P. C,
Lieutenant-Governor of the Sub-province of Ifugao, accompanied by
one of his chieftains, who made a splendid picture in his barbaric
finery. Erect, thin of flank and well-muscled, he had a bold, clear
eye and a fearless look; around his neck he wore a complicated necklace
of gold and other beads; each upper arm was clasped by a boar's tusk,
from which stood out a plume of red horse-hair. His gee-string was
decorated with a belt of white shells, the long free end hanging
down in front, and he had his bolo, like the rest of his people,
in a half-scabbard--that is, kept by two straps on a strip of wood,
shaped like a scabbard. But all these were mere accessories; what
distinguished him was his free graceful carriage, the lightness and
ease of his motions, the frankness and openness of his countenance.

Our rest over, we pushed on through a beautiful forest, unlike any
other seen so far in that it was open. The trail was excellent,
and rose steadily, for we had to cross a sharp range before making
Kiangan. I shall make no attempt to describe this exquisite afternoon:
but there was a breeze, the forest tempered the sun's rays a good part
of the time; and, as we rose, range after range, peak on peak opened
on our view, valley after valley spread out under our feet until
I wearied of admiring. The others had gone over the trail before,
and looked on nature with a more matter-of-fact eye. At the top of
the range I noticed an outcrop of fossil coral. Bubud distinguished
himself to-day. Gallman, who was trotting immediately in front
(and who ought to know his own trails!), called "Ware hole!" just
as Bubud put one of his forefeet in it, pitched forward, and threw
me over his head, thus establishing a complete breach of continuity
between us. However, as long as the thing had to happen, it was a
good place to select, for the trail was four feet wide here, and,
in case of going over the side, the drop was only eighty or ninety
feet, with bushes conveniently arranged to catch hold of on the way
down. This was Bubud's solitary mishap, and it was not his fault.

Past the divide, the trail became a road over which one might have
marched a field battery, so broad and firm and good was it: we were
nearing Kiangan. Presently we turned a low spur to the left, and the
Ifugao town burst upon our view. It was the headquarters of a Spanish
_Comandancia_ in the old days, and here Padre Juan Villaverde lived
and worked, seeking to convert the people, and to teach them to grow
coffee and to plant European vegetables. The mission, however came to
naught, leaving behind no trace visible to the casual traveller, save
a few lone cabbages: the garrison maintained here was massacred to a
man, the native who surprised and cut down the sentry being pointed
out to us the next day. Kiangan was celebrated in Spanish times,
and even more recently, as the home of some of the most desperate
head-hunters of the Archipelago. But, thanks to Gallman, head-hunting
in the Ifugao country is now a thing of the past.

The town stands on the top of a bastion-like terrace, thrust
avalanche-wise and immense between its pinnacled mountain walls;
the site is not only of great beauty, but of great natural strength,
like nearly all the other considerable settlements we saw on this
journey. The two mountain walls approach somewhat like the branches
of the letter V, having between them, near their intersection, as it
were, the natural bastion mentioned rising from the bed of the Ibilao
River, hundreds of feet below, and some thousands of yards distant. The
whole position is on a large generous scale; it would have appealed
to the ancient Greeks. And so, of course, we yet had some distance
to go, and now made our way through rice-paddies, echeloned on the
flanks of the spurs that came down to meet us. These rice-terraces
(_sementeras_), the first I had seen, at once excited my interest,
to the scorn of Pack, who bade me wait until we had come upon the
real thing: these were nothing. It turned out he was entirely right;
but I thought them remarkable, and anyway they were most refreshing
and cooling to look at, after our long hot ride. The sound of running
waters, the sight of the little runlets bubbling away for dear life, of
the tall rice swaying to the breeze, the acropolis before us with its
clumps of waving bamboos, of nodding bananas, and the soft afternoon
light over all, the combination made a picture that, will live in my
recollection. The impression immediately formed was that of a scene
of quiet peace and beauty, more or less rudely shocked the following
day. As we drew nearer and nearer we were welcomed by arches of bamboo
decorated with native flowers and plants, and guarded by life-size
_anitos_ [21] of both sexes _in puris naturalibus_, cut out of the
tree fern, but with no connotation whatever of indecency. For these
statues are either an innocent expression of nature, or, what seems
more likely, an expression of Nature or phallic worship.

We had now got up to the parade of the _cuartel_ (quarters or
barracks) and were greeted by shouts from the people gathered to
welcome us. The chief who had met us at Payawan, and who, on foot,
had beaten us into Kiangan, appeared in all his bravery and with a
prolonged "Who-o-o-o-e-e!" commanded silence. He then mounted a bamboo
stand some twenty feet high, with a platform on top, and made us a
speech! Yes, a regular speech, with gestures, intonations, and all
the rest of it. For these Ifugaos are born orators, and love to show
their skill. Accordingly, thanks to Mr. Worcester's appreciation,
orators' tribunes have been put up at points like Kiangan; it is
strange that the Ifugaos had never thought of it themselves. This
tribune, by the way, was ornamented with tufts of leaves and grasses
at the corners. When the speaker had done, he clapped his hands over
his head, and all the people followed suit.

Later on Gallman, who speaks Ifugao like a native, interpreted for
us. The speaker told his people that a great honor had been done them
by this visit of the "Commission," and that, besides, the great _apo_
[22] of all had come, too. His arrival could not fail to be of good
luck for them, as it meant more rice, more chickens, more pigs, more
babies, more good in all ways than they ever had had before. As other
speeches began to threaten, on a hasty intimation from Mr. Forbes we
moved on to our quarters, preceded by the escort of Constabulary.

This detachment, composed entirely of Ifugaos, would have delighted
any soldier. They certainly excited my admiration by the precision
of their movements, their set-up, and their general appearance. A
Prussian Guardsman could not have been more erect. There are five
companies of Constabulary in the Mountain Province, each serving in
the part of the country from which recruited, and each retaining in
its uniform the colors and such other native features as could be
turned to account. Thus the only "civilized," so to say, elements
are the forage cap and khaki jacket worn directly over the skin;
otherwise the legs, feet, and body are bare; the local gee-string is
worn, with the free end hanging down in front. Here at Kiangan each
man has below the knee the native brass leglet, and on the left hip
the _bultong_, or native bag, a sporran, indeed, showing the local
influence in its blue and white stripes. Thus accoutered, the first
impression formed was that these troops were actually highlanders;
on reflection, this impression is correct, for they are highlanders
in every sense of the word. I obtained permission to inspect the
detachment after the honors were over, and found their equipment
and uniforms in admirable condition. Of their discipline, everyone
spoke in the highest terms; indeed, we had next day, as will soon
appear, an example of this quality. Their loyalty to the Government is
unquestioned. These mountaineers are all, as might be expected, hardy,
strong, able-bodied, and active; in fact, the physical qualities of
these mountain people are remarkable. But at Kiangan, as elsewhere,
it was noticeable that discipline, regular habits, regular food, had
improved the naturally good physical qualities of the people. The
Constabulary appeared to me to be physically better than the tribe
from which they were drawn. I noticed, too, that after protracted
wearing of the khaki the skin of the body was several shades lighter
than that of the legs.

We now entered our quarters, being those of Lieutenant Meimban,
the native officer in command. Here, too, we met Mr. Barton, the
local school superintendent. His predecessor had had to be relieved,
because one day, as he was going up the trail, an Ifugao threw a spear
"into" him, as they say in the mountains, and he consequently got a
sort of distaste for the place, although it was clearly established
in the investigation that followed, and carefully explained to him,
that it was all a mistake, and that the spear had been intended for
somebody else. Mr. Barton is doing a useful work here in devoting
his spare time and energy to a study of the Ifugao religion with
its myths and mythology. He told me that he had so far defined seven
hundred different spirits and was not sure that he had got to the end
of them. The publication of Mr. Barton's research is awaited with some
avidity by the Americans living in the Province, as enabling them to
have a better control of the people through their religious beliefs.

We had not long been seated in our quarters before a deputation of
chiefs with their _gansas_ and a large number of _bubud_ [23] jars
entered, and offered us _bubud_ to drink. Very soon our visitors
began to dance for us to the sound of the _gansa_, their dance being
different from that we had seen a few days before at Campote. As,
however, the next day was one dance from morning to night, I shall not
spend any more time upon this affair, except to say that, turn about
being fair play, Cootes got up and gave such a representation as he
was able of a _pas seul_. When he had done, our visitors started
anew, and the _gansas_ proving irresistible, Cootes and I joined
in. The steps, poise of body, motion of the arms and hands are so
marked and peculiar that a little observation and practice enabled
us in a short time to produce at least a fair imitation; indeed,
so successful were our efforts that we were informed we should be
invited to dance on the morrow before the multitudes! This brought
us up standing, and it was time anyway. So our chieftains took their
leave, their _bubud_ jars remaining in our charge. These jars are
worth more than a passing mention: the oldest ones come from China,
and are held in such high esteem by the Ifugaos that they will part
with them for neither love nor money. According to the experts, some
of them are examples of the earliest known forms of Chinese porcelain,
and are most highly prized by collectors and museums. [24]

We put up our mosquito-bars this night, the only time on the trip,
but I think without any necessity. So far we had not seen, heard or
felt a single fly or mosquito, and were to see none until we struck
civilization once more in the Cagayan Valley.


Day opens badly.--Ifugao houses.--The people,
assemble.--Dancing.--Speeches.--White paper streamers.--Head hunter

Needless to say we were up betimes the next morning, May 2d,
for the clans were to gather, and the day would hardly be long
enough for all it was to hold. The day began ominously. As Kiangan
is a sort of headquarters, it has a guard-house for the service of
short imprisonments, a post-and-rail affair made of bamboo under the
_cuartel_. For while our administration is kindly, these mountaineers
from the first have had to learn, if not to feel as yet, that they
must be punished if guilty of infringing such laws and discipline as
have so far been found applicable. Accordingly, our guard-house held
two men, sentenced for twenty days, for having threatened the life of
one of their head men. Short as was the sentence, these two men had
nevertheless dug a passage in the earthen floor of their quarters,
and had just the night before opened the outer end of it, but not
enough to admit the passage of a human body. A private of Constabulary,
passing by this morning, stooped to examine this hole new to him, when
one of the prisoners threw a spear at him, made of a stalk of _runo_
[25] the head being a small strip of iron which he had kept concealed
in his gee-string. So true was his aim that, although he had to throw
his improvised spear between the rails, he nevertheless struck the
private in the neck, cutting his jugular vein, so that in five minutes
he was dead. The pen was now entered for the purpose of shackling the
criminal, when he announced that he would kill any white man that laid
hands on him. Upon Lieutenant Meimban of the Constabulary advancing,
both of the prisoners rushed him. In the mellay that followed the
murderer was shot and killed and his companion badly beaten up; Strong
later had to put seventeen stitches in one scalp wound alone. Although
the _rancheria_ from which the murdered private came was two hours
off, so that it usually took four hours to send a message and get
an answer, yet an hour and a half after the man died a runner came
in to ask for his body so it could be suitably buried. Altogether,
this double killing damped our spirits considerably; for one thing,
there was no telling how it would be received, particularly if there
should be any excessive drinking of _buhud_; there were very few of
us, mostly unarmed, and the Ifugaos were coming in hundreds at a time,
so that long before the forenoon was well under way several thousands
had collected. However, on moving out, we could not find that the
cheerfulness of the people had been in the least disturbed.

Before beginning the business of the day we walked about the village
and examined one or two houses. These are all of one room, entered
by a ladder drawn up at night, and set up on stout posts seven or
eight feet high; the roof is thatched, and the walls, made of wattle
_(suali)_, flare out from the base determined by the tops of the
posts. In cutting the posts down to suitable size (say 10 inches in
diameter), a flange, or collar, is left near the top to keep rats
out; chicken-coops hang around, and formerly human skulls, too,
were set about. But the Ifugaos, thanks to Gallman, as already said,
have abandoned head-hunting, and the skulls in hand, if kept at all,
are now hidden inside their owner's houses, their places being taken
by carabao heads and horns. One house had a _tahibi_, or rest-couch;
only rich people can own these, cut out as they are of a single log,
in longitudinal cross-section like an inverted and very flat V with
suitable head- and foot-supports. The notable who wishes to own one
of these luxurious couches gets his friends to cut down the tree
(which is necessarily of very large size), to haul the log, and to
carve out the couch, feeding them the while. Considering the lack
of tools, trails, and animals, the labor must be incredible and the
cost enormous. However, wealth will have its way in Kiangan as well
as in Paris.

By the time we had done the village, the hour of business had come,
and we moved up to the little parade in front of the _cuartel_, where
an enormous crowd had already assembled. As at Campote, so here, and
for the same reasons, very few old women were present, but about as
many young ones and children as there were men. Our approach was the
signal for the dancing to begin, and once begun, it lasted all day,
the _gansas_ never ceasing their invitation. Apparently anybody could
join in, and many did, informal circles being formed here and there,
for the Ifugaos, like all the other highlanders, dance around in a
circle. Both men and women took part, eyes on a point of the ground
a yard or so ahead, the knees a little bent, left foot in front, body
slightly forward on the hips, left arm out in front, hand upstretched
with fingers joined, right arm akimbo, with hand behind right hip. The
musicians kneel, stick the forked-stick handle of the _gansa_ in their
gee-strings, with the _gansa_ convex side up on their thighs, and
use both hands, the right sounding the note with a downward stroke,
the left serving to damp the sound. The step is a very dignified,
slow shuffle, accompanied by slow turns and twists of the left hand,
and a peculiar and rapid up-and-down motion of the right.

True to what had been said the day before, a particularly large circle
was formed, and Cootes and I were invited to join, which we did; if
any conclusion may be drawn from the applause we got (for the Ifugaos
clap hands), why, modesty apart, we upheld the honor of the Service.

Every now and then the orators had their turn, for a resounding
"Whoo-o-ee!" would silence the multitudes, and some speaker would
mount the tribune and give vent to an impassioned discourse. One of
these bore on the killing of the prisoner that morning: the orator
declared that he was a bad man, and that he had met with a just end,
that the people must understand that they must behave themselves
properly, and so on. I forget how many speeches were made; but the
tribune was never long unoccupied. Another performance of the day
was the distribution of strips of white onion-skin paper. On one
of his previous trips Mr. Worcester had noticed that the people
had taken an old newspaper he had brought with him, cut it up into
strips, and tied them to the hair by way of ornament. Acting on
this hint, it is his habit to take with him on his trips to this
country thousands of strips, and everybody gets a share according
to rank, a chief five, his wife four, an ordinary person three, and
little children two. Accordingly, he spent hours this day handing
out these strips, for this was a duty that could not be delegated:
the strips must come from the hands of the "Commission" himself. By
afternoon, every man, woman, and child--and there were thousands of
them all told--was flying these white streamers from the head, the
combined resulting effect being pleasing and graceful. Meanwhile the
people kept on coming from their _rancherias_, one arrival creating
something of a stir, being that of the _Princesa_, wife of the orator
who had welcomed us the day before. She came in state, reclining in a
sort of bag hanging from a bamboo borne on the shoulders of some of
her followers. She had an umbrella, and, if I recollect aright, was
smoking a cigar. On emerging from her bag, a circle formed about her,
and she was graciously pleased to dance for us, no one venturing to
join her. As she was fat and scant o' breath, [26] her performance,
was characterized by portentous deliberation, precision, and dignity,
and was as palpably agreeable to her as it was curious to us.

The great performance of the morning, however, was a head-hunter dance,
arranged by Barton; that is, he had gone out a day or two before
and told a neighboring _rancheria_, that they must furnish a show
of the sort for the _apos_ whose visit was imminent. But, according
to the old women of the village, he had made a great mistake in that
he said it was not necessary to hold a _canao_ in advance. A _canao_
(_buni_ in Ifugao), as already explained, is a ceremonious occasion,
celebrated by dancing, much drinking of _bubud_, the killing of a
pig, speeches. Whenever an affair of moment is in hand, such as a
funeral or a head-hunting expedition, a _canao_ is held. Our entire
stay at Kiangan might be called a _canao_, or, rather, it was made up
of _canaos_. Now when Barton, two or three days before, refused to
_canao_, the old women shook their heads, declaring that something
would happen, and the killings of the morning were at once summoned
as proof that they were right and he was wrong. However this may be,
not long after the _Princesa's_ dance we heard below us a cadenced
sound and saw a long column in file slowly approaching. Its head was
formed of warriors armed with spears and shields stained black with
white zig-zags across; the leading warrior walked backward, continually
making thrusts at the next man with his spear. A pig had immediately
preceded, trussed by his feet to a bamboo, and interfering mightily
with the music that followed. This was percussive in character, and
was produced by twenty-five or thirty men beating curved instruments,
made of very hard, resonant wood, with sticks. These musicians marched
along almost doubled over, and would lean in unison first to the right
and then to the left, striking first one end, then the other of their
instruments, which they held in the middle by a _bejuco_ string from
a hole made for the purpose. The note was not unmusical. Many of the
men had their head-baskets on their backs, and one or two of them the
palm-leaf rain-coat. I had never imagined that it was possible for
human beings to advance as slowly as did these warriors; in respect
of speed, our most dignified funerals would suffer by comparison. The
truth is, they were dancing. They got up the hill at last, however;
laid the pig down in the middle of the vast circle that had instantly
formed, and then began the ceremonious head-dance. Two or three men,
after various words had been said, would march around in stately
fashion, winding up at the pig, across whose body they would lay their
spears. On this an old man would run out, and remove the spears, when
the thing would be repeated. At last, a tall, handsome young man,
splendidly turned out in all his native embellishments, on reaching
the pig, allowed his companions to retire while he himself stood,
and, facing his party with a smile, said a few words. Then, without
looking at his victim, and without ceasing to speak, he suddenly thrust
his spear into the pig's heart, withdrawing it so quickly that the
blade remained unstained with blood; as quick and accurate a thing
as ever seen! Of course, this entire _canao_ was full of meaning to
the initiated. Barton said it was a failure, and he ought to know;
but it was very interesting to us. I was particularly struck by the
bearing of these men, their bold, free carriage and fearless expression
of countenance.


Dress of the people.--Butchery of carabao.--Prisoner runs _amok_
and is killed.

It was now drawing near midday, and as though by common understanding
we all separated to get something to eat. Our head-dancers formed
up and resumed their slow march back down the hill; only this time,
Cootes and I borrowed instruments and joined the band, partly to see
how it felt to walk in so incredibly slow a procession, and partly
for me, at least, to try the music. A little of it went a long way.

The afternoon was, with two exceptions, much like the forenoon. Tiffin
over, Mr. Worcester and Gallman held councils with the head men of
the various _rancherias_ present; Pack inspected; and the rest of us
moved about, looking on at whatever interested us.

As elsewhere, but few clothes are seen: the women wear a short striped
skirt sarong-wise, but bare the bosom. However, they are beginning to
cover it, just as a few of them had regular umbrellas. They leave the
navel uncovered; to conceal it would be immodest. The men are naked
save the gee-string, unless a leglet of brass wire under the knee be
regarded as a garment; the bodies of many of them are tattooed in
a leaf-like pattern. A few men had the native blanket hanging from
their shoulders, but leaving the body bare in front. The prevailing
color is blue; at Campote it is red. The hair looked as though a
bowl had been clapped on the head at an angle of forty-five degrees,
and all projecting locks cut off. If the hair is long, it means
that the wearer has made a vow to let it grow until he has killed
someone or burnt an enemy's house. We saw such a long-haired man this
day. Some of the men wore over their gee-strings belts made of shell
(mother-of-pearl), with a long free end hanging down in front. These
belts are very costly and highly thought of. Earrings are common,
but apparently the lobe of the ear is not unduly distended. Here at
Kiangan, the earring consists of a spiral of very fine brass wire.

It is pertinent to remark that the Ifugaos treat their women well;
for example, the men do the heavy work, and there are no women
_cargadores_. In fact, the sexes seemed to me to be on terms of perfect
equality. The people in general appeared to be cheerful, good-humored,
and hospitable. Mr. Worcester pointed out that whereas most of the
men present were unarmed (at any rate, they had neither spears nor
shields), in his early trips through this country, as elsewhere,
every man came on fully armed, and the ground was stuck full of
spears, each with its shield leaning on it, the owner near by with
the rest of his _rancheria_, and all ready at a moment's notice to
kill and take heads. For although these people are all of the same
blood and speak nearly the same language, still there is no tribal
government; the people live in independent settlements (_rancherias_),
all as recently as five or six years ago hostile to one another,
and taking heads at every opportunity. This state of affairs was
undoubtedly partly due to the almost complete lack of communication
then prevailing, thus limiting the activities of each _rancheria_
to the growing of food, varied by an effort to take as many heads
as possible from the _rancheria_ across the valley, without undue
loss of its own. And what is said here of the Ifugao is true also
of the Ilongot, the Igorot, the Kalinga, the Apayao, and of all the
rest of the head-hunting highlanders of Northern Luzon. The results
accomplished by Mr. Worcester with all these people simply exceed
belief. But this subject, being worthy of more than passing mention,
will be considered later. The afternoon is wearing on, and we must
get at the two exceptions mentioned some little time ago.

Since these highlanders have but little meat to eat, it is the policy
of the Government, on the occasion of these annual progresses,
to furnish a few carabaos, so that some of the people, at least,
while they are the guests of the Government, may have what they
are fondest of and most infrequently get. And they have been until
recently allowed to slaughter the carabao, according to their own
custom, in competition, catch-as-catch-can, so to say. For the poor
beast, tethered and eating grass all unconscious of its fate, or
else directly led out, is surrounded by a mob of men and boys, each
with his bolo. At a signal given, the crowd rushes on the animal,
and each man hacks and cuts at the part nearest to him, the rule
of the game being that any part cut off must be carried out of the
rush and deposited on the ground before it can become the bearer's
property. Accordingly, no sooner is a piece separated and brought
out than it is pounced on by others who try to take it away; usually
a division takes place, subject to further sub-division, however, if
other claimants are at hand. The competition is not only tremendous,
but dangerous, for in their excitement the contestants frequently
wound one another. The Government (_i.e._, Mr. Worcester), while
at first necessarily allowing this sort of butchering, has steadily
discouraged and gradually reduced it, so that at Kiangan, for example,
the people were told that this was the last time they would ever
be allowed to kill beef in this fashion. It was pointed out to them
that the purpose being to furnish meat, their method of killing was
so uneconomical that the beef was really ruined, and nobody got what
he was really entitled to.

On this occasion, the carabao was tied to a stake in a small swale
and I nerved myself to look on. I saw the first cuts, the poor beast
look up from his grass in astonishment, totter, reel, and fall as blows
rained on him from all sides. The crowd, closing in, mercifully hid the
rest from view; the victim dying game without a sound. In this respect,
as well as in many others, the carabao is a very different animal
from the pig. But, while looking on at the mound of cutting, hacking,
sweating, and struggling butchers, the smell of fresh blood over all,
something occurred that completely shifted the center of interest. A
boy came up to us in great excitement to say that the prisoner had got
hold of a bayonet and was running _amok_. This was the prisoner of the
morning who had been so badly beaten; to make him more comfortable,
he had been laid on the veranda of the _cuartel_ (just behind us),
hobbled, but otherwise free. The boy spoke the truth; the prisoner had
snatched his bayonet from a passing Constabulary private, and, turning
into the _cuartel_, made for the provincial treasurer, who was busy
inside. Him he chased out, getting over the ground with extraordinary
rapidity, considering his wounds and hobbles; when we turned to look,
the prisoner had come out and was running for just anybody. There was
now but one thing to do, and done it was. Some one in authority called
out to the sentry on duty before the _cuartel_. "Kill him!" The sentry,
who up to this time had been walking up and down as a sentry should,
brought down his carbine, aimed at the running man, and dropped him
in his tracks by a bullet through the heart. He then ejected his
empty cartridge-case, shouldered his piece, and continued to walk his
post as unconcernedly as though he had shot a mad dog; as striking
an example of discipline as any soldier could wish to see. So far
as I could mark, this occurrence made no impression on the people
gathered together. The day went on as before. We should recollect,
however, that these highlanders have no nerves, have, in the the
past held human life cheap, and must have realized in this case that
the poor fellow who had been shot was himself trying to take human
life; according to mountain law, he had got his deserts. Hence no
astonishment should be felt that, while this human tragedy was being
played to a finish, the carabao-butchers had not turned a hair's
breadth from their business. For when I turned again to see how they
were getting on, I found that they had disappeared, and, walking to
the place, saw not a trace of the butchery save the trampled ground
and a small heap of undigested grass. Mr. Worcester had told me before
that I should find this to be the case; not a shred of hoof, hide,
or bone had been left behind.

The multitude had now begun to disperse, for the sun's rays were
growing level, and the day was over. We were glad ourselves to
find our quarters, for we had had some ten hours of _gansa_-beating,
dancing, and all the rest of it: the _canao_ had been a great success,
and, although _bubud_ had passed vigorously, the people had made no
trouble. We wound up with a little bridge, and there was, as there
always is, some business to be dispatched before turning in. But
we were all soon sound asleep, for next morning we had to be up at
four. [27]


Barton's account of a native funeral.

Mr. Barton, already mentioned as in residence at Kiangan as local
Superintendent of Schools, went out to see the funeral of the
Constabulary private killed on the morning of the 2d. He was strongly
advised not to go, because these highlanders resent more or less the
presence of strangers at their funeral ceremonies. But this made him
only the more eager, as very few Americans, or any others for that
matter, have ever been present on these occasions.

Passing through Manila a month or two later, he very kindly dictated
for me an account of what he saw, and I give it here, with his
permission, in his own words:

The Funeral of Aliguyen.

"On the third day after the soldier was killed, the principal funeral
ceremonies took place. To these ceremonies came a great number of
people from their various _rancherias_, the party from each _rancheria_
being led by the relatives of the soldier, some of them very distant

"Aliguyen, the dead soldier, lived in the _rancheria_ of Nagukaran,
a _rancheria_ until quite recently very unfriendly to Kiangan, where
I live. Aliguyen, however, had some kin in Kiangan, and this kin,
together with their friends, went to the funeral. Their shields,
as well as the shields of all who attended, were painted with white
markings, taking some the form of men, some of lizards, some were
zig-zags. All men who attended had a head-dress made of the leaf
petiole of the betel tree and the red leaves of the dongola plant. To
these leaves were attached pendant white feathers. Everybody was
dressed in his best clout, and the women in their best loin-cloths
and in all their finery of gold beads and agate necklaces.

"Nagukaran is one _rancheria_ of several in a very large valley. When
I reached a point in the trail commanding this valley, there could be
seen from various _rancherias_ in the valley a procession from each
of them wending their way slowly toward Aliguyen's home. From the time
that they came within sight of the house, which was sometimes when they
were a mile and a half or two miles from it, each procession danced
its way, beating on the striped shields with their drum-sticks and
on their _bangibang_. This last is a kind of wooden stick, made of
resonant hard wood, coated over with chicken blood. It is extremely
old. It is curved slightly and is about two feet long, and is held in
one hand suspended by a _bejuco_ string so that the vibrations are
not interfered with. It is beaten with a drum-stick, as is also the
shield. The _gansa_, or brass gong, the usual musical instrument of
the Ifugaos, is never used in the funeral of a beheaded man. The two
men who headed each procession carried two spears each. Behind came a
man carrying a spear and shield. The two in front faced the on-coming
procession, stepping most of the time backward, making thrusts toward
the two who bore the spears and shields. The bearers of spear and
shield made thrusts at them, the whole being a dance which in some
respects resembles one of the head-dances of the Bontoc Igorots. From
the high place on the trail where I was, they looked, in the distance,
like nothing so much as columns of centipedes or files of ants all
creeping slowly along the dikes of the rice-paddies toward the central
place. It usually takes an hour for such a procession to cover one
mile. The beating of shield and stick could easily be heard across
the wide valley on that still morning.

"Arriving at Aliguyen's house, we found him sitting on a block
facing the sun, lying against his shield, which was supported
by the side of the house. The body was in a terrible state of
decomposition. It was swollen to three times its living girth. Great
blisters had collected under the epidermis, which broke from time
to time, a brownish red fluid escaping. The spear wound in his
neck was plugged by a wooden spear-head. In each hand Aliguyen
held a wooden spear. No attempt whatever had been made to prevent
decomposition of the body or the entrance to it of flies. From the

Book of the day: