A river cuts in two the pueblo of Alap, and that pueblo is said to celebrate the harvest by a rock fight similar to that of Bontoc and Samoki.
It is said by Igorot that the Sadanga lis-lis is a conflict with runo (or reed) spears, which are warded off with the war shields.
It is claimed that in Sagada the public part of the ceremony consists of a mud fight in the sementeras, mud being thrown by each contending party.
Loskod
This ceremony occurs once each year at the time of planting camotes, in the period of Ba-li’-ling.
Som-kad’ of ato Sigichan is the pueblo “priest” who performs the los-kod’ ceremony. He kills a chicken or pig, and then petitions Lumawig as follows: “Lo-mos-kod’-kay to-ki’.” This means, “May there be so many camotes that the ground will crack and burst open.”
Okiad
Som-kad’ of ato Sigichan performs the o-ki-ad’ ceremony once each year during the time of planting the black beans, or ba-la’-tong, also in the period of Ba-li’-ling.
The petition addressed to Lumawig is said after a pig or chicken has been ceremonially killed; it runs as follows: “Ma-o’-yed si ba-la’-tong, Ma-o’-yed si fu’-tug, Ma-o’-yed nan i-pu-kao’.” A free translation is, “May the beans grow rapidly; may the pigs grow rapidly; and may the people [the children] grow rapidly.”
Kopus
Ko’-pus is the name given the three days of rest at the close of the period of Ba-li’-ling. They say there is no special ceremony for ko’-pus, but some time during the three days the pa’-tay ceremony is performed.
Ceremonies connected with climate
Fakil
The Fa-kil’ ceremony for rain occurs four times each year, on four succeeding days, and is performed by four different priests. The ceremony is simple. There is the usual ceremonial pig killing by the priest, and each night preceding the ceremony all the people cry: “I-teng’-ao ta-ko nan fa-kil’.” This is only an exclamation, meaning, “Rest day! We observe the ceremony for rain!” I was informed that the priest has no separate oral petition or ceremony, though it is probable that he has.
Kalob
Once or twice each year, or maybe once in two years, in January or February, a cold, driving rain pours itself on Bontoc from the north. It often continues for two or three days, and is a miserable storm to be out in.
If this storm continues three or four days, Le-yod’, of ato Lowingan, performs the following ceremony in his dwelling: “Ma-kis-kis’-kay li-fo’-o min-chi-kang’-ka ay fat-a’-wa ta-a’-yu nan fa’-ki lo-lo’-ta.” A very free translation of this is as follows: “You fogs, rise up rolling. Let us have good weather in all the world! All the people are very poor.”
Following this ceremony Le-yod’ goes to Chao’-wi, the site of Lumawig’s former dwelling in the pueblo, shown in Pl. CLIII, and there he builds a large fire. It is claimed the fierce storm always ceases shortly after the ka-lob’ is performed.
Chinamwi
Ang’-way of ato Somowan performs the chi-nam’-wi ceremony once or twice each year during the cold and fog of the period Sama, when the people are standing in the water-filled sementeras turning the soil, frequently working entirely naked.
Many times I have seen the people shake — arms, legs, jaw, and body — during those cold days, and admit that I was touched by the ceremony when I saw it.
A hog is killed and each household gives Ang’-way a manojo of palay. He pleads to Lumawig: “Tum-ke’-ka ay li-fo’-o ta-a-ye’-o nan in sa-ma’-mi.” This prayer is: “No more cold and fog! Pity those working in the sementera!”
Ceremonies connected with head taking[35]
Kafokab
Ka-fo’-kab is the name of a ceremony performed as soon as a party of successful head-hunters returns home. The old man in charge at the fawi says: “Cha-kay’-yo fo’-so-mi ma-pay-ing’-an. Cha-kay’-mi in-ked-se’-ka-mi nan ka-nin’-mi to-kom-ke’-ka.” This is an exultant boast — it is the crow of the winning cock. It runs as follows: “You, our enemies, we will always kill you! We are strong; the food we eat makes us strong!”
Changtu
There is a peculiar ceremony, called “chang’-tu,” performed now and then when i’-chu, the small omen bird, visits the pueblo.
This ceremony is held before each dwelling and each pabafunan in the pueblo. A chicken is killed, and usually both pork and chicken are eaten. The man performing the Chang’-tu says:
“Sik’-a tan-ang’-a sik’-a lu’-fub ad Sa-dang’-a nan ay-yam’ Sik’-a ta-lo’-lo ad La’-god nan ay-yam’ Sik’-a ta-lo’-lo ye’-mod La’-god nan fa-no wat’-mo yad Ap’-lay.”
This speech is a petition running as follows:
“You, the anito of a person beheaded by Bontoc, and you, the anito of a person who died in a dwelling, you all go to the pueblo of Sadanga [that is, you destructive spirits, do not visit Bontoc; but we suggest that you carry your mischief to the pueblo of Sadanga, an enemy of ours]. You, the anito of a Bontoc person beheaded by some other pueblo, you go into the north country, and you, the anito of a Bontoc person beheaded by some other pueblo, you carry the palay-straw torch into the north country and the south country [that is, friendly anito, once our fellow-citizens, burn the dwellings of our enemies both north and south of us].”
In this petition the purpose of the Chang’-tu is clearly defined. The faithful i’-chu has warned the pueblo that an anito, perhaps an enemy, perhaps a former friend, threatens the pueblo; and the people seek to avert the calamity by making feasts — every dwelling preparing a feast. Each household then calls the names of the classes of malignant anito which destroy life and property, and suggests to them that they spend their fury elsewhere.
Ceremony connected with ato
Young men sometimes change their membership from one a’-to to another. It is said that old men never do. There is a ceremony of adoption into a new a’-to when a change is made; it is called “pu-ke'” or “pal-ug-peg’.” At the time of the ceremony a feast is made. and some old man welcomes the new member as follows:
If you die first, you must look out for us, since we wish to live long [that is, your spirit must protect us against destructive spirits], do not let other pueblos take our heads. If you do not take this care, your spirit will find no food when it comes to the a’-to, because the a’-to will be empty — we will all be dead.
PART 9
Mental Life
The Igorot does not know many things in common with enlightened men, and yet one constantly marvels at his practical knowledge. Tylor says primitive man has “rude, shrewd sense.” The Igorot has more — he has practical wisdom.
Actual knowledge
Concerning cosmology, the Igorot believes Lumawig gave the earth and all things connected with it. Lumawig makes it rain and storm, gives day and night, heat and cold. The earth is “just as you see it.” It ceases somewhere a short distance beyond the most distant place an Igorot has visited. He does not know how it is supported. “Why should it fall?” he asks. “A pot on the earth does not fall.” Above is chayya, the sky — the Igorot does not know or attempt to say what it is. It is up above the earth and extends beyond and below the visible horizon and the limit of the earth. The Igorot does not know how it remains there, and a man once interrupted me to ask why it did not fall down below the earth at its limit.
“Below us,” an old Igorot told me, “is just bones.”
The sun is a man called “Chal-chal’.” The moon is a woman named “Ka-bi-gat’.” “Once the moon was also a sun, and then it was always day; but Lumawig made a moon of the woman, and since then there is day and night, which is best.”
There are two kinds of stars. “Fat-ta-ka’-kan” is the name of large stars and “tuk-fi’-fi” is the name of small stars. The stars are all men, and they wear white coats. Once they came down to Bontoc pueblo and ate sugar cane, but on being discovered they all escaped again to chayya.
Thunder is a gigantic wild boar crying for rain. A Bontoc man was once killed by Ki-cho’, the thunder. The unfortunate man was ripped open from his legs to his head, just as a man is ripped and torn by the wild boar of the mountains. The lightning, called “Yup-yup,” is also a hog, and always accompanies Ki-cho’.
Lumawig superintends the rains. Li-fo’-o are the rain clouds — they are smoke. “At night Lumawig has the li-fo’-o come down to the river and get water. Before morning they have carried up a great deal of water; and then they let it come down as rain.”
Earthquakes are caused by Lumawig. He places both hands on the edge of the earth and quickly pushes it back and forth. They do not know why he does it.
Regarding man himself the Igorot knows little. He says Lumawig gave man and all man’s functionings. He does not know the functioning of blood, brain, stomach, or any other of the primary organs of the body. He says the bladder of men and animals is for holding the water they drink. He knows that a man begets his child and that a woman’s breasts are for supplying the infant food, but these two functionings are practically all the facts he knows or even thinks he knows about his body.
Mensuration
Under this title are considered all forms of measurement used by the Igorot.
Numbers
The most common method of enumerating is that of the finger count. The usual method is to count the fingers, beginning with the little finger of the right hand, in succession touching each finger with the forefinger of the other hand. The count of the thumb, li’-ma, five, is one of the words for hand. The sixth count begins with the little finger of the left hand, and the tenth reaches the thumb. The eleventh count begins with the little finger of the right hand again, and so the count continues. The Igorot system is evidently decimal. One man, however, invariably recorded his eleventh count on his toes, from which he returned to the little finger of his right hand for the twenty-first count.
A common method of enumerating is one in which the record is kept with small pebbles placed together one after another on the ground.
Another method in frequent use preserves the record in the number of sections of a slender twig which is bent or broken half across for each count.
When an Igorot works for an American he records each day by a notch in a small stick. A very neat record for the month was made by one of our servants who prepared a three-sided stick less than 2 inches long. Day by day he cut notches in this stick, ten on each edge.
When a record is wanted for a long time — as when one man loans another money for a year or more — he ties a knot in a string for each peso loaned.
The Igorot subtracts by addition. He counts forward in the total of fingers or pebbles the number he wishes to subtract, and then he again counts the remainder forward.
Lineal measure
The distance between the tips of the thumb and middle finger extended and opposed is the shortest linear measure used by the Igorot, although he may measure by eye with more detail and exactness, as when he notes half the above distance. This span measure is called “chang’-an” or “i’-sa chang’-an,” “chu’-wa chang’-an,” etc.
Chi-pa’ is the measure between the tips of the two middle fingers when the arms are extended full length in opposite directions. Chi-wan’ si chi-pa’ is half the above measure, or from the tip of the middle finger of one hand, arm extended from side of body, to the sternum.
These three measures are most used in handling timbers and boards in the construction of buildings.
Cloth for breechcloths is measured by the length of the forearm, being wound about the elbow and through the hand, quite as one coils up a rope.
Long distances in the mountains or on the trail are measured by the length of time necessary to walk them, and the length of time is told by pointing to the place of the sun in the heavens at the hour of departure and arrival.
Rice sementeras are measured by the number of cargoes of palay they produce. Besides this relatively exact measure, sementeras producing up to five cargoes are called “small,” pay-yo’ ay fa-nig’; and those producing more than five are said to be “large,” pay-yo’ chuk-chuk’-wag.
Measurement of animals
The idea of the size of a carabao, and at the same time a crude estimate of its age and value, is conveyed by representing on the arm the length of the animal’s horns.
The size of a hog and, as with the carabao, an estimate of its value is shown by representing the size of the girth of the animal by clasping the hands around one’s leg. For instance, a small pig is represented by the size of the speaker’s ankle, as he clasps both hands around it; a larger one is the size of his calf; a still larger one is the size of a man’s thigh; and one still larger is represented by the thigh and calf together, the calf being bent tightly against the upper leg. To represent a still larger hog, the two hands circle the calf and thigh, but at some distance from them.
The Bontoc Igorot has no system of liquid or dry measure, nor has he any system of weight.
The calendar
The Igorot has no mechanical record of time or events, save as he sometimes cuts notches in a stick to mark the flight of days. He is apt, however, in memorizing the names of ancestors, holding them for half a dozen generations, but he keeps no record of age, and has no adequate conception of such a period as twenty years. He has no conception of a cycle of time greater than one year, and, in fact, it is the rare man who thinks in terms of a year. When one does he speaks of the past year as tin-mo-win’, or i-san’ pa-na’-ma.
Prominent Igorot have insisted that a year has only eight moons, and other equally sane and respected men say it has one hundred. But among the old men, who are the wisdom of the people, there are those who know and say it has thirteen moons.
They have noted and named eight phases of the moon, namely: The one-quarter waxing moon, called “fis-ka’-na;” the two-quarters waxing moon, “ma-no’-wa,” or “ma-lang’-ad;” the three-quarters waxing moon, “kat-no-wa’-na” or “nap-no’;” the full moon, “fit-fi-tay’-eg;” the three-quarters waning moon, “ka-tol-pa-ka’-na” or “ma-til-pa’-kan;” the two-quarters waning moon, “ki-sul-fi-ka’-na;” the one-quarter waning moon, sig-na’-a-na” or “ka-fa-ni-ka’-na;” and the period following the last, when there is but a faint rim of light, is called “li’-meng” or “ma-a-mas’.”
FIGURE 9
Recognized phases of the moon.
Fis-ka’-na.
Ma-no’-wa.
Kat-no-wa’-na.
Fit-fi-tay’-eg.
Ka-tol-pa-ka’-na.
Ki-sul-fi-ka’-na.
Sig-na’-a-na.
Li’-meng.
However, the Igorot do seldom count time by the phases of the moon, and the only solar period of time they know is that of the day. Their word for day is the same as for sun, a-qu’. They indicate the time of day by pointing to the sky, indicating the position the sun occupied when a particular event occurred.
There are two seasons in a year. One is Cha-kon’, having five moons, and the other is Ka-sip’, having eight moons. The seasons do not mark the wet and dry periods, as might be expected in a country having such periods. Cha-kon’ is the season of rice or “palay” growth and harvest, and Ka-sip’ is the remainder of the year. These two seasons, and the recognition that there are thirteen moons in one year, and that day follows night, are the only natural divisions of time in the Igorot calendar.
He has made an artificial calendar differing somewhat in all pueblos in name and number and length of periods. In all these calendars the several periods bear the names of the characteristic industrial occupations which follow one another successively each year. Eight of these periods make up the calendar of Bontoc pueblo, and seven of them have to do with the rice industry. Each period receives its name from that industry which characterizes its beginning, and it retains this name until the beginning of the next period, although the industry which characterized it may have ceased some time before.
I-na-na’ is the first period of the year, and the first period of the season Cha-kon’. It is the period, as they say, of no more work in the rice sementeras — that is, practically all fields are prepared and transplanted. It began in 1903 on February 11. It lasts about three months, continuing until the time of the first harvest of the rice or “palay” crop in May; in 1903 this was until May 2. This period is not a period of “no work” — it has many and varied labors.
The second period is La’-tub. It is that of the first harvests, and lasts some four weeks, ending about June 1.
Cho’-ok is the third period. It is the time when the bulk of the palay is harvested. It occupies about four weeks, running over in 1903 two days in July.
Li’-pas is the fourth period. It is that of “no more palay harvest,” and lasts for about ten or fifteen days, ending probably about July 15. This is the last period of the season Cha-kon’.
The fifth period is Ba-li’-ling. It is the first period of the season Ka-sip’. It takes its name from the general planting of camotes, and is the only one of the calendar periods not named from the rice industry. It continues about six weeks, or until near the 1st of September.
Sa-gan-ma’ is the sixth period. It is the time when the sementeras to be used as seed beds for rice are put in condition, the earth being turned three different times. It lasts about two months. November 15, 1902, the seed rice was just peeping from the kernels in the beds of Bontoc and Sagada, and the seed is sown immediately after the third turning of the earth, which thus ended early in November.
Pa-chog’ is the seventh period of the annual calendar. It is the period of seed sowing, and begins about November 10. Although the seed sowing does not last many days, the period Pa-chog’ continues five or six weeks.
Sa’-ma is the last period of the calendar. It is the period in which the rice sementeras are prepared for receiving the young plants and in which these seedlings are transplanted from the seed beds. The last Sa’-ma was near seven weeks’ duration. It began about December 20, 1902, and ended February 10, 1903. Sa’-ma is the last period of the season Ka-sip’, and the last of the year.
The Igorot often says that a certain thing occurred in La’-tub, or will occur in Ba-li’-ling, so these periods of the calendar are held in mind as the civilized man thinks of events in time as occurring in some particular month.
The Igorot have a tradition that formerly the moon was also a sun, and at that time it was always day. Lumawig told the moon to be “moon,” and then there was night. Such a change was necessary, they say, so the people would know when to work — that is, when was the right time, the right moon, to take up a particular kind of labor.
Folk tales
The paucity of the pure mental life of the Igorot is nowhere more clearly shown than in the scarcity of folk tales.
I group here seven tales which are quite commonly known among the people of Bontoc. The second, third, fourth, and fifth are frequently related by the parents to their children, and I heard all of them the first time from boys about a dozen years old. I believe these tales are nearly all the pure fiction the Igorot has created and perpetuated from generation to generation, except the Lumawig stories.
The Igorot story-tellers, with one or two exceptions, present the bare facts in a colorless and lifeless manner. I have, therefore, taken the liberty of adding slightly to the tales by giving them some local coloring, but I have neither added to nor detracted from the facts related.
The sun man and moon woman; or, origin of head-hunting
The Moon, a woman called “Ka-bi-gat’,” was one day making a large copper cooking pot. The copper was soft and plastic like potter’s clay. Ka-bi-gat’ held the heavy sagging pot on her knees and leaned the hardened rim against her naked breasts. As she squatted there — turning, patting, shaping, the huge vessel — a son of the man Chal-chal’, the Sun, came to watch her. This is what he saw: The Moon dipped her paddle, called “pip-i’,” in the water, and rubbed it dripping over a smooth, rounded stone, an agate with ribbons of colors wound about in it. Then she stretched one long arm inside the pot as far as she could. “Tub, tub, tub,” said the ribbons of colors as Ka-bi-gat’ pounded up against the molten copper with the stone in her extended hand. “Slip, slip, slip, slip,” quickly answered pip-i’, because the Moon was spanking back the many little rounded domes which the stone bulged forth on the outer surface of the vessel. Thus the huge bowl grew larger, more symmetrical, and smooth.
Suddenly the Moon looked up and saw the boy intently watching the swelling pot and the rapid playing of the paddle. Instantly the Moon struck him, cutting off his head.
Chal-chal’ was not there. He did not see it, but he knew Ka-bi-gat’ cut off his son’s head by striking with her pip-i’.
He hastened to the spot, picked the lad up, and put his head where it belonged — and the boy was alive.
Then the Sun said to the Moon:
“See, because you cut off my son’s head, the people of the Earth are cutting off each other’s heads, and will do so hereafter.”
“And it is so,” the story-tellers continue; “they do cut off each other’s heads.”
Origin of coling, the serpent eagle[36]
A man and woman had two boys. Every day the mother sent them into the mountains for wood to cook her food. Each morning as she sent them out she complained about the last wood they brought home.
One day they brought tree limbs; the mother complained, saying:
“This wood is bad. It smokes so much that I can not see, and soon I shall be blind.” And then she added, as was her custom:
“If you do not work well, you can have only food for dogs and pigs.”
That day, as usual, the boys had in their topil for dinner only boiled camote vines, such as the hogs eat, and a small allowance of rice, just as much as a dog is fed. At night the boys brought some very good wood — wood of the pitch-pine tree. In the morning the mother complained that such wood blackened the house. She gave them pig food in their topil, saying:
“Pig food is good enough for you because you do not work well.”
That night each boy brought in a large bundle of runo. The mother was angry, and scolded, saying:
“This is not good wood; it leaves too many ashes and it dirties the house.”
In the morning she gave them dog food for dinner, and the boys again went away to the mountains. They were now very thin and poor because they had no meat to eat. By and by the older one said:
“You wait here while I climb up this tree and cut off some branches.” So he climbed the tree, and presently called down:
“Here is some wood” — and the bones of an arm dropped to the ground.
“Oh, oh,” exclaimed the younger brother, “it is your arm!”
Again the older boy called, “Here is some more wood” — and the bones of his other arm fell at the foot of the tree.
Again he called, and the bones of a leg dropped; then his other leg fell. The next time he called, down came the right half of his ribs; and then, next, the left half of his ribs; and immediately thereafter his spinal column. Then he called again, and down fell his hair.
The last time he called, “Here is some wood,” his skull dropped on the earth under the tree.
“Here, take those things home,” said he. “Tell the woman that this is her wood; she only wanted my bones.”
“But there is no one to go with me down the mountains,” said the younger boy.
“Yes; I will go with you, brother,” quickly came the answer from the tree top.
So the boy tied up his bundle, and, putting it on his shoulder, started for the pueblo. As he did so the other — he was now Co-ling’ — soared from the tree top, always flying directly above the boy.
When the younger brother reached home he put his bundle down, and said to the woman:
“Here is the wood you wanted.”
The woman and the husband, frightened, ran out of the house; they heard something in the air above them.
“Qu-iu’-kok! qu-iu’-kok! qu-iu’-kok!” said Co-ling’, as he circled around and around above the house. “Qu-iu’-kok! qu-iu’-kok!” he screamed, “now camotes and palay are your son. I do not need your food any longer.”
Origin of tilin, the ricebird[37]
As the mother was pounding out rice to cook for supper, her little girl said:
“Give me some mo’-ting to eat.”
“No,” answered the mother, “mo’-ting is not good to eat; wait until it is cooked.”
“No, I want to eat mo’-ting,” said the little girl, and for a long time she kept asking her mother for raw rice.
At last her mother interrupted, “It is bad to talk so much.”
The rice was then all pounded out. The mother winnowed it clean, and put it in her basket, covering it up with the winnowing tray. She placed an empty olla on her head and went to the spring for water.
The anxious little girl reached quickly for the basket to get some rice, but the tray slipped from her grasp and fell, covering her beneath it in the basket.
The mother returned with the water to cook supper. She heard a bird crying, “King! king! nik! nik! nik!” When the woman uncovered the basket, Tilin, the little brown ricebird, flew away, calling:
“Good-bye, mother; good-bye, mother; you would not give me mo’-ting!”
Origin of kaag, the monkey
The palay was in the milk and maturing rapidly. Many kinds of birds that knew how delicious juicy palay is were on hand to get their share, so the boys were sent to stay all day in the sementeras to frighten these little robbers away.
Every day a father sent out his two boys to watch his palay in a narrow gash in the mountain; and every day they carried their small basket full of cooked rice, white and delicious, but their mother put no meat in the basket.
Finally one of the boys said:
“It is bad not to have meat to eat; every day we have only rice.”
“Yes, it is bad,” said his brother. “We can not keep fat without meat; we are getting poor and thin, and pretty soon we shall die.”
“That is true,” answered the other boy; “pretty soon we shall die. I believe I shall be ka’-ag.”
And during the day thick hair came on this boy’s arms; and then he became hairy all over; and then it was so — he was ka’-ag, and he vanished in the mountains.
Then soon the other boy was ka’-ag, too. At night he went home and told the father:
“Your boy is ka’-ag; he is in the mountains.”
The boy ran out of the house quickly. The father went to the mountains to get his boy, but ka’-ag ran up a tall tree; at the foot of the tree was a pile of bones. The father called his son, and ka’-ag came down the tree, and, as the father went toward him, ka’-ag stood up clawing and striking at the man with his hands, and breathing a rough throat cry like this:
“Haa! haa! haa!”
Then the man ran home crying, and he never got his boys.
Pretty soon there was a-sa’-wan nan ka’-ag[38] with a babe. Then there were many little children; and then, pretty soon, the mountains were full of monkeys.
Origin of gayyang, the crow, and fanias, the large lizard
There were two young men who were the very greatest of friends.
One tattooed the other beautifully. He tattooed his arms and his legs, his breast and his belly, and also his back and face. He marked him beautifully all over, and he rubbed soot from the bottom of an olla into the marks, and he was then very beautiful.
When the tattooer finished his work he turned to his friend, and said: “Now you tattoo me beautifully, too.”
So the young men scraped together a great pile of black, greasy soot from pitch-pine wood; and before the other knew what the tattooed one was doing he rubbed soot over him from finger tip to finger tip. Then the black one asked:
“Why do you tattoo me so badly?”
Without waiting for an answer they began a terrible combat. When, suddenly, the tattooed one was a large lizard, fa-ni’-as,[39] and he ran away and hid in the tall grass; and the sooty black one was gay-yang, the crow,[40] and he flew away and up over Bontoc, because he was ashamed to enter the pueblo after quarreling with his old friend.
Owug, the snake
The old men say that a man of Mayinit came to live in Bontoc, as he had married a Bontoc woman and she wished to live in her own town.
After a while the man died. His friends came to the funeral, and a snake, o-wug’, also came. When the people wept, o-wug’ cried also. When they put the dead man in the grave, and when they stood there looking, o-wug’ came to the grave and looked upon the man, and then went away.
Later, when the friends observed the death ceremony, o-wug’ also came.
“O-wug’ thus showed himself to be a friend and companion of the Igorot. Sometime in the past he was an Igorot, but we have not heard,” the old men say, “when or how he was o-wug’.”
“We never kill o-wug’; he is our friend. If he crosses our path on a journey, we stop and talk. If he crosses our path three or four times, we return home, because, if we continue our journey then, some of us will die. O-wug’ thus comes to tell us not to proceed; he knows the bad anito on every trail.”
Who took my father’s head?
The Bontoc people have another folk tale regarding head taking. In it Lumawig, their god, taught them how to discover which pueblo had taken the head of one of their members. They repeat this story as a ceremony in the pabafunan after every head lost, though almost always they know what pueblo took it. It is as follows:
“A very great time ago a man and woman had two sons. Far up in the mountains they owned some garden patches. One day they told the boys to go and see whether the stone wall about the garden needed repair; but the boys said they did not wish to go, so the father went alone. As he did not return at nightfall, his sons started into the mountains to find him. They bound together two small bunches of runo for torches to light up the steep, rough, twisting trail. One torch was burning when they went out, and they carried the other to light them home again. Nowhere along the trail did they find their father; he had not been injured in the path, nor could they find where he had fallen over a cliff. So they passed on to the garden; there they found their father’s headless body. They searched for blood in the bushes and grass, but they found nothing — no blood, no enemies’ tracks.
“They carried the strange corpse down the mountain trail to their home in Bontoc. Then they hastened to the pabafunan, and there they told the men what had befallen their father. The old men counseled together, and at last one of them said: ‘Lumawig told the old men of the past, so the old men last dead told me, that should any son find his father beheaded, he should do this: He should ask, “Who took my father’s head? Did Tukukan take it? Did Sakasakan take it?” ‘ and Lumawig said, ‘He shall know who took his father’s head.’
“So the boys took a basket, the fangao, to represent Lumawig, and stuck it full of chicken feathers. Before the fangao they placed a small cup of basi. Then squatting in front with the cup at their feet they put a small piece of pork on a stick and held it over the cup. ‘Who took my father’s head? — did Tukukan?’ they asked. But the pork and the cup and the basket all remained still. ‘Did Sakasakan?’ asked the boys all was as before. They went over a list of towns at enmity with Bontoc, but there was no answer given them. At last they asked, ‘Did the Moon?’ — but still there was no answer. ‘Did the Sun?’ the boys asked, and suddenly the piece of pork slid from the stick into the basi. And this was the way Lumawig had said a person should know who took his father’s head.
“The Sun, then, was the guilty person. The two boys took some dogs and hastened to the mountains where their father was killed. There the dogs took up the scent of the enemy, and followed it in a straight line to a very large spring where the water boiled up, as at Mayinit where the salt springs are. The scent passed into this bubbling, tumbling water, but the dogs could not get down. When the dogs returned to land the elder brother tried to enter, but he failed also. Then the younger brother tried to get down; he succeeded in going beneath the water, and there he saw the head of his father, and young men in a circle were dancing around it — they were the children of the Sun. The brother struck off the head of one of these young men, caught up his father’s head, and, with the two heads, escaped. When he reached his elder brother the two hastened home to their pueblo.”
PART 10
Language
Introduction
The language of the Bontoc Igorot is sufficiently distinct from all others to be classed as a separate dialect. However, it is originally from a parent stock which to-day survives more or less noticeably over probably a much larger part of the surface of the earth than the tongue of any other primitive people.
The language of every group of primitive people in the Philippine Archipelago, except the Negrito, is from that same old tongue. Mr. Homer B. Hulbert[41] has recorded vocabularies of ten groups of people in Formosa; and those vocabularies show that the people belong to the same great linguistic family as the Bontoc Igorot. Mr. Hulbert believes that the language of Korea is originally of the same stock as that of Formosa. In concluding his article he says:
We find therefore that out of a vocabulary of fifty words there are fifteen in which a distinct similarity [between Korean and Formosan] can be traced, and in not a few of the fifteen the similarity amounts to practical identity.
The Malay language of Malay Peninsula, Java, and Sumatra is from the same stock language. So are many, perhaps all, the languages of Borneo, Celebes, and New Zealand. This same primitive tongue is spread across the Pacific and shows unmistakably in Fiji, New Hebrides, Samoa, and Hawaii. It is also found in Madagascar.
Alphabet
The Bontoc man has not begun even the simplest form of permanent mechanical record in the line of a written language, and no vocabulary of the language has before been published.
The following alphabet was used in writing Bontoc words in this study:
A as in FAR; Spanish RAMO
A is in LAW; as O in French OR
AY as in AI in AISLE; Spanish HAY
AO as OU in OUT; as AU in Spanish AUTO B as in BAD; Spanish BAJAR
CH as in CHECK; Spanish CHICO
D as in DOG; Spanish DAR
E as in THEY; Spanish HALLE
E as in THEN; Spanish COMEN
F as in FIGHT; Spanish FIRMAR
G as in GO; Spanish GOZAR
H as in HE; Tagalog BAHAY
I as in PIQUE; Spanish HIJO
I as in PICK
K as in KEEN
L as in LAMB; Spanish LENTE
M as in MAN; Spanish MENOS
N as in NOW; Spanish JABON
NG as in FINGER; Spanish LENGUA
O as in NOTE; Spanish NOSOTROS
OI as in BOIL
P as in POOR; Spanish PERO
Q as CH in German ICH
S as in SAUCE; Spanish SORDO
SH as in SHALL; as CH in French CHARMER T as in TOUCH; Spanish TOMAR
U as in RULE; Spanish UNO
U as in BUT
U as in German KUHL
V as in VALVE; in Spanish VOLVER
W as in WILL; nearly as OU in French OUI Y as in YOU; Spanish YA
The sounds which I have represented by the unmarked vowels A, E, I, O, and U, Swettenham and Clifford in their Malay Dictionary represent by the vowels with a circumflex accent. The sound which I have indicated by U they indicate by A. Other variations will be noted.
The sound represented by A, it must be noted, has not always the same force or quantity, depending on an open or closed syllable and the position of the vowel in the word.
So far as I know there is no R sound in the Bontoc Igorot language. The word “Igorot” when used by the Bontoc man is pronounced Igolot. In an article on “The Chamorro language of Guam”[42] it is noted that in that language there was originally no R sound but that in modern times many words formerly pronounced by an L sound now have that letter replaced by R.
Linguistic inconsistencies
The language of the Bontoc area is not stable, but is greatly shifting. In pueblos only a few hours apart there are not only variations in pronunciation but in some cases entirely different words are used, and in a single pueblo there is great inconsistency in pronunciation.
It is often impossible to determine the exact sound of vowels, even in going over common words a score of times with as many people. The accent seems very shifting and it is often difficult to tell where it belongs.
Several initial consonants of words and syllables are commonly interchanged, even by the same speaker if he uses a word more than once during a conversation. That this fickleness is a permanency in the language rather than the result of the present building of new words is proved by ato names, words in use for many years — probably many hundred years.
One of the most frequent interchanges is that of B and F. This is shown in the following ato names: Bu-yay’-yeng or Fu-yay’-yeng; Ba-tay’-yan or Fa-tay’-yan; Bi’-lig or Fi’-lig; and Long-boi’ or Long-foi’. It is also shown in two other words where one would naturally expect to find permanency — the names of the men’s public buildings in the ato, namely, ba’-wi or fa’-wi, and pa-ba-bu’-nan or pa-ba-fu’-nan. Other common illustrations are found in the words ba-to or fa-to (stone) and ba-bay’-i or fa-fay’-i (woman).
Another constant interchange is that of CH and D. This also is shown well in names of ato, as follows: Cha-kong’ or Da-kong’; Pud-pud-chog’ or Pud-pud-dog’; and Si-gi-chan’ or Si-gi-dan’. It is shown also in chi’-la or di’-la (tongue).
The interchange of initial K and G is constant. These letters are interchanged in the following names of ato: Am-ka’-wa or Am-ga’-wa; Lu-wa’-kan or Lu-wa’-gan; and Ung-kan’ or Ung-gan’. Other illustrations are ku’-lid or gu’-lid (itch) and ye’-ka or ye’-ga (earthquake).
The following three words illustrate both the last two interchanges: Cho’-ko or Do’-go (name of an ato); pag-pa-ga’-da or pag-pa-ka’-cha (heel); and ka-cho’ or ga-de’-o (fish).
Nouns
The nouns appear to undergo slight change to indicate gender, number, or case. To indicate sex the noun is followed by the word for woman or man — as, a’-su fa-fay’-i (female dog), or a’-su la-la’-ki (male dog). The same method is employed to indicate sex in the case of the third personal pronoun Si’-a or Si-to-di’. Si’-a la-le’-ki or Si-to-di’ la-la’-ki is used to indicate the masculine gender, and Si’-a fa-fay’-i or Si-to-di’ fa-fay’-i the feminine.
The plural form of the noun is sometimes the same as the singular. Plural number may also be expressed by use of the word ang-san (many) or am-in’ (all) in addition to the noun. It is sometimes expressed by repetition of syllables, as la-la’-ki (man), la-la-la’-ki (men); sometimes, also, by the prefix ka together with repetition of syllables, as li-fo’-o (cloud), ka-li’-fo-li-fo’-o (clouds). There seems to be no definite law in accordance with which these several plural forms are made. When in need of plurals in this study the singular form has always been used largely for simplicity.
Pronouns
The personal pronouns are:
I
Sak-in’
You
Sik-a’
He, she
Si’-a and Si-to-di’
We
Cha-ta’-ko and Cha-ka’-mi
You
Cha-kay’-yo
They
Cha-i-cha and Cha-to-di’
Examples of the possessive as indicated in the first person are given below:
My father
A-mak’
My dog
A-suk’
My hand
Li-mak’
Our father
A-ma’-ta
Our dog
A-su’-ta
Our house
A-fong’-ta
Other examples of the possessive are not at hand, but these given indicate that, as in most Malay dialects, a noun with a possessive suffix is one form of the possessive.
Scheerer[43] gives the possessive suffixes of the Benguet Igorot as follows:
My
K, after A, I, O, and U, otherwise ‘KO
Thy
} M, after A, I, O, and U, otherwise ‘MO
Your
His
} IO
Her
Our (inc.)
‘TAYO
Our (exc.)
‘ME
Your
‘DIO
Their
‘CHA or ‘RA
These possessive suffixes in the Benguet Igorot language are the same, according to Scheerer, as the suffixes used in verbal formation.
The verbal suffixes of the Bontoc Igorot are very similar to those of the Benguet. It is therefore probable that the possessive suffixes are also very similar.
It is interesting to note that in the Chamorro language of Guam the possessive suffixes for the first person correspond to those of the Igorot — MY is KO and OUR is TA.
Verbs
Mention has been made of the verbal suffixes. Their use is shown in the following paradigms:
I eat
Sak-in’ mang-an-ak’
You eat
Sik-a’ mang-an-ka’
He eats
Si-to-di’ mang-an’
We eat
Cha-ka’-mi mang-an-ka-mi’
You eat
Cha-kay’-yo mang-an-kay’-o
They eat
Cha-to-di’ mang-an-cha’
I go
Sak-in’ u-mi-ak’
You go
Sik-a’ u-mi-ka’
He goes
Si-to-di’ u-mi’
We go
Cha-ka-mi’ u-mi-ka-mi’
You go
Cha-kay’-yo u-mi-kay’-yo
They go
Cha-to-di’ u-mi-cha’
The suffixes are given below, and the relation they bear to the personal pronouns is also shown by heavy-faced type:
I
‘ak
Sak-in’
You (sing)
‘ka
Sik-a’
He
…
Si’-a or Si-to-di’
We
kami or tako
Cha-ka’-mi or Cha-ta’-ko
You
kayo
Cha-kay’-yo
They
cha
Cha-to-di’ or cha-i’-cha
The Benguet suffixes as given by Scheerer are:
I
‘ko or ‘ak
You
‘mo or ‘ka
He
‘to
We {
me
tayo
You
‘kayo or ‘dio
They
‘ra or ‘cha
The verbal suffixes seem to be commonly used by the Bontoc Igorot in verbal formations. The tense of a verb standing alone seems always indefinite; the context alone tells whether the present, past, or future is indicated.
Comparative vocabularies
About eighty-five words have been selected expressing simple ideas. These are given in the Bontoc Igorot language and as far as possible in the Benguet Igorot; they are also given in the Malay and the Sulu languages.
Of eighty-six words in both Malay and Bontoc 32 per cent are clearly derived from the same root words, and of eighty-four words in the Sulu and Bontoc 45 per cent are from the same root words. Of sixty-eight words in both Malay and Benguet 34 per cent are from the same root words, and 47 per cent of sixty-seven Benguet and Sulu words are from the same root words. Of sixty-four words in Bontoc and Benguet 58 per cent are the same or nearly the same.
These facts suggest the movement of the Philippine people from the birthplace of the parent tongue, and also the great family of existing allied languages originating in the primitive Malayan language. They also suggest that the Bontoc and the Benguet peoples came away quite closely allied from the original nest, and that they had association with the Sulu later than with the Malay.
[In the following compilation works have been consulted respectively as follows: Malay — Hugh Clifford and Frank Athelstane Swettenham, A Dictionary of The Malay Language (Taiping, Perak; in parts, Part I appearing 1894, Part III appearing 1904); Sulu — Andson Cowie, English-Sulu-Malay Vocabulary, with Useful Sentences, Tables, etc. (London, 1893); Benguet Igorot — Otto Scheerer, The Ibaloi Igorot, MS. in MS. Coll., The Ethnological Survey for the Philippine Islands.]
English
Malay
Sulu
Benguet Igorot
Bontoc Igorot
Ashes
Abu
Abu
De-pok
Cha-pu’
Bad
Jahat (wicked)
Mang-i, ngi
…
Ngag
Black
Hitam
Itam
An-to’-leng
In-ni’-tit
Blind
Buta
Buta
Sa-gei a ku’-rab[44]
Na-ki’-mit
Blood
Darah
Duguh
Cha’-la
Cha’-la
Bone
Tulang
Bukog
Pu’-gil
Ung-et’
Burn, to
Bakar
Sunog
…
Fin-mi’-chan
Chicken
Anak ayam
Anak-manok
…
Mo-nok’
Child
Anak
Batah, anak
A-a’-nak
Ong-ong’-a
Come
Mari
Mari
…
A-li-ka’
Cut, to
Potong
Hoyah
Kom-pol’
Ku-ke’-chun
Day
Hari
Adlau
A-kou
A-qu’
Die, to
Mati
Matai
…
Ma-ti’
Dog
Anjing
Erok
A-su’
A’-su
Drink, to
Minum
Hinom, minom
…
U-mi-num’
Ear
Telinga
Tainga
Tang-i’-da
Ko-weng’
Earthquake
Gempa tanah
Linog
Yek-yek
Ye’-ga
Eat, to
Makan
Ka-aun
Kanin
Mang-an’, Ka-kan’
Eight
Dilapan
Walu
Gua’-lo
Wa-lo’
Eye
Mata
Mata
Ma-ta
Ma-ta’
Father
Baba
Amah
A-ma
A’-ma
Finger nail
Kuku
Kuku
Ko-go
Ko-ko’
Fire
Api
Kayu
A-pui
A-pu’-i
Five
Lima
Lima
Di’-ma
Li-ma’
Foot
Kaki
Siki
Cha-pan
Cha-pan’
Four
Ampat
Opat
Ap’-pat
I-pat’
Fruit
Buah
Bunga-kahol
Damos
Fi-kus’-na
Get up, to
Bangun
Bangun
…
Fo-ma-ong’
Good
Baik
Maraiau
…
Cug-a-wis’
Grasshopper
Bi-lalang
Ampan
Chu’-ron
Cho’-chon
Ground (earth)
Tanah
Lopah
Bu’-dai
Lu’-ta
Hair of head
Rambut
Buhok
Bu-og
Fo-ok’
Hand
Tangan
Lima
Di-ma
Li-ma’, Ad-pa’
Head
Kepala
O
Tok-tok
O’-lo
Hear, to
Dengar
Dungag
…
Chung-nen’
Here
Sini
Di, di-ha-inni
Chiai
Is’-na
Hog
Babi
Baboi
Ke-chil
Fu-tug’
I
Shaya
Aku
Sikak; Sidiak
Sak-in’
Kill, to
Bunoh
Bunoh
Bunu’-in
Na-fa’-kug
Knife
Pisau
Lading
Ta’-ad
Ki-pan’
Large
Besar
Dakolah
Abatek
Chuk-chuk’-i
Lightning
Kilat
Kilat
Ba-gi’-dat
Yup-Yup
Louse
Kutu
Kutu
Ku-to
Ko’-to
Man
Orang
Tau
Da’-gi
La-la’-ki
Monkey
Munyit, Kra
Amok
Ba-ges
Ka-ag’
Moon
Bulan
Bulan
Bu’-lan
Fu-an’
Mortar (for rice)
Lesong
Lusong
…
Lu-song’
Mother
Mak, ibu
Inah
I-na
I’-na
Night
Malam
Dum
Kal-leian, A-da’-wi
Mas-chim, la-fi’
Nine
S’ambilan
Siam
Dsi’-am
Si-am’
No
Tidak
Waim di
…
A-di’
Nose
Hidong
Ilong
A-deng
I-ling’
One
Satu, suatu, sa
Isa
Sa-gei’
I-sa’
Rain
Hujan
Ulan
U’-ran
O-chan’
Red
Merah
Pula, lag
Am-ba’-alang-a
Lang-at’
Rice (threshed)
Padi
Pai
…
Pa-ku’
Rice (boiled)
Nasi
K’aun-an
I-na-pui
Mak-an’
River
Sungei
Sobah
Pa’-dok
Wang’-a
Run, to
Lari
Dag-an
…
In-tug’-tug
Salt
Garam
Asin
A-sin
Si’-mut
Seven
Tujoh
Peto
Pit’-to
Pi-to’
Sit, to
Dudok
Lingkud
…
Tu-muck’-chu
Six
Anam
Unom
An-nim
I-nim’
Sky
Langit
Langit
Dang-it
Chay’-ya
Sleep, to
Tidor
Ma-tog
…
Ma-si-yip’
Small
Kechil
Asivi
O-o’-tik
Fan-ig’
Smoke
Asap
Aso
A-sok
A-sok’
Steal, to
Men-churi
Takau
Magibat
Mang-a-qu’
Stone
Batu
Batu
Ba-to
Ba-to
Sun
Mata-Hari
Mata suga
A-kau, Si-kit
A-qu’
Talk, to
Ber-chakap
Nug-pamong
…
En-ka-li’
Ten
Sa’puloh
Hangpoh
Sam-pu’-lo
Sim-po’-o
There
Di-situ, Di-sana
Ha ietu, dun
Chitan, Chiman
Is’-chi
Three
Tiga
To
Tad’-do
To-lo’
To-morrow
Esok, Besok
Kin-shum
Ka-bua-san
A-swa’-kus
Tree
Poko’kayu
Kahoi
Po-on
Cha-pon’, Kay’-o
Two
Dua
Rua, Dua
Chu’-a
Chu’-wa
Walk, to
Ber-jalan
Panau
…
Ma-na’-lun
Water
Ayer
Tubig
Cha-num
Che-num’
White
Puteh
Ma-putih
Am-pu-ti’
Im-po’-kan
Wind
Angin
Hangin
Cha-num
Che-num’
Woman
Prempuan
Babai
Bi-i, a-ko’-dau
Fa-fay’-i
Wood
Kayu
Kahol
Ki’-u
Kay’-o
Yellow
Kuning
…
Chu-yao[45]
Fa-king’-i
Yes
Ya
…
…
Ay
You (singular)
Ankau
Ekau
Sikam
Sik’-a
Bontoc vocabulary
The following vocabulary is presented in groups with the purpose of throwing additional light on the grade of culture the Igorot has attained.
No words follow which represent ideas borrowed of a modern culture; for instance, I do not record what the Igorot calls shoes, pantaloons, umbrellas, chairs, or books, no one of which objects he naturally possesses.
Whereas it is not claimed that all the words spoken by the Igorot follow under the various headings, yet it is believed that the man’s vocabulary is nearly exhausted under such headings as “Cosmology,” “Clothing, dress, and adornment,” and “Weapons, utensils, etc.:”
English, with Bontoc equivalent
Cosmology
Afternoon
Mug-a-qu’
Afternoon, middle of
Mak-sip’
Air
Si’-yak
Ashes
Cha-pu’
Blaze
Lang-lang
Cloud, rain
Li-fo’-o
Creek
Ki-nan’-wan
Dawn
Wi-wi-it’
Day
A-qu’
Day after to-morrow
Ka-sin’ wa’-kus
Day before yesterday
Ka-sin’ ug’-ka
Dust
Cha’-pog
Earthquake
Ye’-ga
East
Fa-la’-an si a-qu’
Evening
Ni-su’-yao
Fire
A-pu’-i
Ground (earth)
Lu’-ta
Hill
Chun’-tug
Horizon
Nang’-ab si chay’-ya
Island
Pa’-na
Lightning
Yup-yup
Midnight
Teng-ang si la-fi’
Milky way
Ang’-san nan tuk-fi’-fi[46]
Moon
Fu-an’
Moon, eclipse of
Ping-mang’-et nan fu-an’
Moon, full
Fit-fi-tay’-eg
Moon, waxing, one-quarter
Fis-ka’-na
Moon, waxing, two-quarters
Ma-no’-wa
Moon, waxing, three-quarters
Kat-no-wa’-na
Moon, waning, three-quarters
Ka-tol-pa-ka’-na
Moon, waning, two-quarters
Ki-sul-fi-ka’-na
Moon, waning, one-quarter
Sig-na’-a-na
Moon, period following
Li’-meng
Morning
Fib-i-kut’
Morning, mid
Ma-a-qu’
Mountain
Fi’-lig
Mud
Pi’-tek
Nadir
Ad-cha’-im
Night
La-fi’ or mas-chim
Noon
Nen-ting’-a or teng-ang si a-qu’
Periods of time in a year
I-na-na’, La’-tub, Cho’-ok, Li’-pas, Ba-li’-ling, Sa-gan-ma’, Pa-chog’, Sa’-ma
Plain
Cha’-ta
Pond
Tab-lak’
Precipice
Ki-chay’
Rain
O-chan’
Rainbow
Fung-a’-kan
River
Wang’-a
River, down the river[47]
La’-god
River, mouth of
Sa-fang-ni’-na
River, up the river[48]
Ap’-lay
Sand
O-fod’
Sea
Po’-sang
Season, rice culture
Cha-kon’
Season, remainder of year
Ka-sip’
Sky
Chay’-ya
Smoke
A-sok’
Spring
Ib-ib
Spring, hot
Lu-ag’
Stars, large
Fat-ta-ka’-kan
Stars, small
Tuk-fi’-fi
Stone
Ba-to
Storm, heavy (rain and winds)
O-chan’ ya cha-kim
Storm, heavy prolonged (baguio)
Lim-lim
Sun
A-qu’
Sun, eclipse of
Ping-mang’-et
Sunrise
Lap-lap-on’-a
Sunset
Le-nun-nek’ nan a-qu’
Thunder
Ki-cho’
To-day
Ad-wa’-ni
To-morrow
A-swa’-kus
Valley, or canon
Cha-lu’-lug
Water
Che-num’
Waterfall
Pa-lup-o’
West
Lum-na-kan’ si a-qu’
Whirlwind
Al-li-pos’-pos or fa-no’-on
Wind
Cha-kim
Year
Ta’-win
Year, past
Tin-mo-win
Yesterday
A-dug-ka’
Zenith
Ad-tong’-cho
Human Body
Ankle
Ung-et’
Ankle bone
King-king-i’
Arm
Li’-ma
Arm, left
I-kid’
Arm, right
A-wan’
Arm, upper
Pong’-o
Arm, upper, near shoulder
Tak-lay’
Armpit
Yek-yek’
Back
I-chug’
Beard, side of face
Sap-ki’
Belly
Fo’-to
Bladder
Fi-chung’
Blood
Cha’-la
Body
A’-wak
Bone
Ung-et’ or tung-al’