Figure 3.
Cross Sections Showing Types of Graves.
The grave is generally of one of the forms indicated in [Fig. 3], and when a depth of about three feet has been reached, the workers encounter stone slabs which protect a lower chamber.[61] When these are reached, the diggers make an opening and thrusting in burning pine-sticks, they call to the dead within, “You must light your pipes with these.” As soon as the slabs are raised, the oldest female relative of the deceased goes into the grave, gathers up the bones of the last person interred, ties them into a bundle, and reburies them in one corner. There is at present no such type of burial chamber, as is described by La Gironière,[62] nor is there a memory or tradition of such an arrangement. As his visit took place less than a century ago, it is unlikely that all trace of it would have been lost. The heavy rainfall in this district would make the construction and maintenance of such Page 286a chamber almost impossible, while the dread of leaving the corpses thus exposed to hostile spirits and the raids of enemies in search of heads would also argue against such a practice. His description of the mummifying or drying of the corpse by means of fires built around it[63] is likewise denied by the old men of Manabo, who insist that they never had such a custom. It certainly does not exist to-day. In a culture, in which the influence of custom is as strong as it is here, it would seem that the care of the corpse, which is intimately related to the condition of the spirit in its final abode, would be one of the last things to change, while the proceedings following a death are to-day so uniform throughout the Tinguian belt, that they argue for a considerable antiquity.
When the grave is ready, the fact is announced in the dwelling, and is the signal for renewed lamentation. The wife and near relatives throw themselves on the corpse, caressing it and crying wildly. Whatever there may have been of duty or respect in the wailing of the first two days, this parting burst of sorrow is genuine. Tears stand in the eyes of many, while others cease their wailing and sob convulsively. After a time an old woman brings in some oldot seeds, each strung on a thread, and fastens one on the wrist of each person, as a protection against the evil spirit Akop, who, having been defeated in his designs against the widow, may seek to vent his anger on others.
When this has been done, a medium seats herself in front of the body; and, covering her face with her hands, begins to chant and wail, bidding the spirit to enter her body. Suddenly she falls back in a faint, while suppressed excitement is manifested by all the onlookers. After a moment or two, fire and water are placed at her head and feet, “in order to frighten the spirit away,” and then the medium gives the last message of the dead man to his family. This is, except for very rare exceptions, the only time that the spirits of the deceased communicate with mortals; and it is, so far as the writer has been able to learn, the only occasion when the medium repeats messages given to her. At other times she is possessed by natural spirits,[64] who then talk directly with mortals.
As a last preparation for the grave, a small hole is burned in each garment worn by the dead person, for otherwise the spirit Ībwa will envy him his clothing and attempt to steal them. The corpse is then Page 287wrapped in a mat, and is carried from the house.[65] The bearers go directly to the balaua,[66] and rest the body in it for a moment. Unless this is done, the spirit will be poor in its future life and unable to build balaua.
The body is deposited full length in the grave, the stone slabs are relaid, the chinks between them filled in with damp clay, and the grave is refilled.[67] As the last earth is pushed in, a small pig is killed, and its blood is sprinkled on the loose soil. Meanwhile Sᴇlday is besought to respect the grave and leave it untouched. The animal is cut up, and a small piece is given to each guest, who will stop on the way to his home, and place the meat on the ground as an offering, meanwhile repeating a dīam. Should he fail to do this, sickness or death is certain to visit his home or village.
As a further protection against evily disposed spirits, especially Ībwa, an iron plough-point is placed over the grave, “for most evil spirits fear iron;” and during this night and the nine succeeding, a fire is kept burning at the grave and at the foot of the house-ladder.[68]
That night the men spend about an hour in the house of mourning, singing sang-sangit, a song in which they praise the dead man, encourage the widow, and bespeak the welfare of the family. The wailers still remain in the dwelling to protect the widow, and a male relative is detailed to see that the fire at the foot of the ladder is kept burning brightly.
Early the next morning, the widow, closely guarded by the wailers, goes to the river, throws her headband into the water, and then goes in herself. As she sinks in the water, an old man throws a bundle of burning rice-straw on her. “The water will wash away some of the sorrow, and the fire will make her thoughts clear.” Upon her return to the village, the grave is enclosed with a bamboo fence, and above it is hung a shallow box-like frame, known as patay, in which are placed the articles needed by the spirit.[69] Within the house the mat and pillow Page 288of the dead are laid ready for use, and at meal time food is placed beside it. The length of time that the mat is left spread out differs somewhat between towns and families. In some cases it is taken up at the end of the period of taboo, while in others it is not rolled up; nor are the windows of the house opened until after the celebration of the Layog ceremony, a year later.
The taboo is usually strictly observed through ten days; but should there be some urgent reason, such as planting or reaping, it may be raised somewhat earlier. It is concluded by the blood and oil ceremony. The lakay, the other old men of the settlement, and all the relatives, gather in the house of mourning, while the mediums prepare for the ceremony. They kill a small pig and collect its blood in a dish; in another receptacle they place oil. A brush has been made out of a variety of leaves, and this the medium dips into the blood and oil, then draws it over the wrists or ankles of each person present, meanwhile saying, “Let the lew-lew (Fiscus hauili Blanco) leaves take the sickness and death to another town; let the kawayan (“bamboo”) make them grow fast and be strong as it is, and have many branches; let the atilwag (Breynia acuminata Nuell. Arg.) turn the sickness to other towns.” A little oil is rubbed on the head of each person present; and all, except the widow, are then freed from restrictions. She must still refrain from wearing her beads, ornaments, or good clothing; and she is barred from taking part in any merry-making until after the Layog ceremony.[70]
At the conclusion of the anointing, the old men discuss the disposal of the property and other matters of importance in connection with the death.
The Layog.[71]—Several months after the burial (generally after the lapse of a year), the friends and relatives are summoned in the Layog,—a ceremony held with the avowed intention “to show respect for the dead and to cause the family to forget their sorrow.” Friends come Page 289from near and far; and rice, pigs, cows or carabaos are prepared for food, while basi flows freely. It is said that the liquor served at this time is “like tears for the dead.” A medium goes to the guardian stones of the village, and there offers rice mixed with blood; she oils the stones, places new yellow headbands on each one, and after dancing tadek, returns to the gathering. Often she is accompanied by a number of men, who shout on their return trip “to frighten away evil spirits.”
Near the house a chair is made ready for the deceased, and in it are placed clothing and food. In the yard four crossed spears form the frame-work on which a shield rests (Plate [XVIII])[72] and on this are beads, food, and garments—offerings for the spirits; while near the house ladder is the spirits' table made of inverted rice mortars.
The duration of this ceremony depends largely on the wealth of the family, for the relatives must furnish everything needed at this time. Games are played, and there is much drinking and singing; but before the members of the family may take part, they are dressed in good garments, and the blood and oil ceremony is repeated on them. At the conclusion of the dancing, they go into the house, roll up the mat used by the dead, open the doors and windows, and all are again free to do as they wish. Should they fail to roll up the mat at this time, it must remain until another Layog is held; and during the interval all the former restrictions are in force.[73]
About twenty years ago, a great number of people in Patok died of cholera; and since then the people of that village have held a Layog in their honor each November, to the expense of which all contribute. As this is just before the rice-harvest, a time when all the people wear their best garments, it is customary for the old men to allow bereaved families to participate in this ceremony and then release them from mourning.
Beliefs Concerning the Spirit of the Dead.—Direct questioning brings out some differences of opinion, in the various districts, concerning the spirit of the dead. In Manabo, a town influenced both by the Igorot of the Upit River valley and the Christianized Ilocano of San Jose, the spirit is said to go at once to the great spirit Kadaklan, Page 290and then to continue on “to the town where it lives.” “It is like a person, but is so light that it can be carried along by the wind when it blows.”[74] The people of Ba-ay, a mountain village partially made up of immigrants from the eastern side of the Cordillera Central, claim that the spirits of the dead go to a mountain called Singet, where they have a great town. Here, it is also stated, the good are rewarded with fine houses, while the bad have to be content with hovels. The general belief, however, is that the spirit (kalading) has a body like that of the living person, but is usually invisible, although spirits have appeared, and have even sought to injure living beings. Immediately following death, the spirit stays near to its old home, ready to take vengeance on any relative, who fails to show his body proper respect. After the blood and oil ceremony, he goes to his future home, Maglawa, carrying with him gifts for the ancestors, which the people have placed about his corpse. In Maglawa he finds conditions much the same as on earth; people are rich and poor; they need houses; they plant and reap; and they conduct ceremonies for the superior beings, just as they had done during their life on earth. Beyond this, the people do not pretend to be posted, “for Kabonīyan did not tell.” With the exception of the people of Ba-ay and a few individuals influenced by Christianity, the Tinguian has no idea of reward or punishment in the future life, but he does believe that the position of the spirit in its new home can be affected by the acts of the living (cf. p. 289). No trace of a belief in re-incarnation was found in any district inhabited by this tribe.
Life and Death.—The foregoing details concerning birth, childhood, sickness, and death, seem to give us an insight into the Tinguian conception of life and death. For him life and death do not appear to be but incidents in an endless cycle of birth, death, and re-incarnation ad infinitum, such as pictured by Lévy-Bruhl;[75] yet, in many instances, his acts and beliefs fit in closely with the theory outlined by that author. In this society, there is only a weak line of demarcation between the living and the dead, and the dead for a time at least participate more or less in the life of the living. This is equally true of the unborn child, whose future condition, physical and mental, may be largely moulded by the acts of others. According to Lévy-Bruhl, this would indicate that the child at delivery is not fully born, is not as yet a member of the Page 291group; and the succeeding ceremonies are necessary to its full participation in life. Death is likewise of long duration. Following the last breath, the spirit remains near by until the magic power of the funeral severs, to an extent, his participation with society. The purpose of the final ceremony is to complete the rupture between the living and the dead.
To the writer, the facts of Tinguian life and beliefs suggest a somewhat different explanation. We have seen how strong individuals may be affected by magical practices. The close connection between an individual, his garments, or even his name, must be considered to apply with quite as much force to the helpless infant and the afterbirth. So strong is this bond, that even unintentional acts may injure the babe. Evil spirits are always near; and, unless great precautions are taken, they will injure adults if they can get them at a disadvantage, particularly when they are asleep. The child is not able to protect itself from these beings; therefore the adults perform such acts, as they think will secure the good will and help of friendly spirits, while they bribe or buy up those who might otherwise be hostile; and lastly they make use of such magical objects and ceremonies, as will compel the evil spirits to leave the infant alone. As the child grows in size and strength, he is less in need of protection; and at an early age he is treated like the other younger members of the community. Naming follows almost immediately after birth, while puberty and initiation ceremonies are entirely lacking. Apparently then, a child is considered as being fully alive at birth, and at no time does he undergo any rites or ceremonies which make him more a part of the community than he was on the first day he saw the light.
When death occurs, the spirit remains near to the corpse until after the funeral, and even then is close by until the ten days of taboo are over. He still finds need of nourishment, and hence food is placed near to his mat. As at birth, he is not in a position to protect his body from the designs of evil spirits, and if his relatives fail to give the corpse proper care, it is certain to be mutilated; likewise certain acts of the living towards the corpse can affect the position of the spirit in Maglawa. Hence it is of supreme importance that the former owner guards against any possible neglect or injury to the body, and it seems plausible that the presence of the spirit near its old haunts may be for the purpose of seeing that its body is carefully attended to. The folktales tell of several instances, in which the spirits took vengeance on relatives who neglected their bodies, or violated the period of taboo.[76] Page 292
When the danger period is past, the spirit at once leaves its old home, and returns again only at the time of the Layog. From that time on, he continues his existence in the upper world, neither troubling, nor being troubled by mortals on earth.[77] Ancestor worship does not occur here, nor are offerings made to the dead, other than those described above. Page 293
[1] The eating of double bananas or vegetables is avoided, as it is thought to result in the birth of twins. The birth of twin girls is a particular misfortune; for their parents are certain to fare badly in any trades or sales to which they may be parties.
[2] The importance of gratifying the longings of pregnant women appears in the legends of the Malay Peninsula. See Wilkinson, Malay Beliefs, p. 46 (London, 1906). Hildebrandt states that the Indian law books such as Yājñavalkya (III, 79) make it a duty to fulfill the wishes of a woman at this time, since otherwise the embryo would be exposed to injury. Encyclopædia of Religion and Ethics, Vol. II, p. 650.
[3] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, pp. 124, 185.
[4] See op. cit., p. 105.
[5] See op. cit., pp. 144, et seq.
[6] See op. cit., p. 18.
[7] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 180.
[8] To produce a miscarriage, a secret liquor is made from the bark of a tree. After several drinks of the brew, the abdomen is kneaded and pushed downward until the foetus is discharged. A canvass of forty women past the child-bearing age showed an average, to each, of five children, about 40 per cent of whom died in infancy. Apparently about the same ratio of births is being maintained at present.
[9] The gifts vary according to the ceremony. For this event, the offerings consist of a Chinese jar with earrings fastened into the handles—“ears”—, a necklace of beads and a silver wire about its neck; a wooden spoon, a weaving stick, and some bone beads.
[10] This is known as palwig.
[11] This action is called tolgī.
[12] In the San Juan district Gīpas is a separate two-day ceremony, which takes place about nine months after the birth. In Baak a part of the Dawak ceremony goes by this name.
[13] This is known as inálson, and is “such a blanket as is always possessed by a spirit.” See p. 313.
[14] This is also the method of delivery among the Kayan of Borneo. See Hose and McDougall, The Pagan Tribes of Borneo, Vol. II, p. 154 (London, 1912), also Cole, The Wild Tribes of Davao District, Mindanao (Field Museum of Natural History, Vol. XII. No. 2, p. 100). Skeat (Malay Magic, p. 334, London, 1900) describes a similar method among the Malay.
[15] Among the Bukidnon and Bila-an of Mindanao a bamboo blade is always employed for this purpose. The same is true of the Kayan of Borneo. Hose and McDougall, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 155; Cole, op. cit., p. 143.
[16] Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 185. It is also the belief of the Peninsular Malay that the incidental products of a confinement may be endowed with life (Wilkinson, Malay Beliefs, p. 30).
[17] The character ᴇ, which appears frequently in the native names, is used to indicate a sound between the obscure vowel e, as in sun, and the ur, in burrow.
[18] The number of days varies somewhat in different sections, and is generally longer for the first child than for the succeeding.
[19] The custom of building a fire beside the mother is practised among the Malay, Jakun and Mantri of the Peninsula. In India, the practice of keeping a fire beside the newborn infant, in order to protect it from evil beings, is widespread. See Tawney, Kathá Sarit Ságara, Vol. I, pp. 246, 305, note; Vol. II, p. 631 (Calcutta, 1880). According to Skeat (Malay Magic, p. 343), the Malay keep the fire burning forty-four days. The custom is called the “roasting of the mother.” The same custom is found in Cambodia (see Encyclopædia of Religion and Ethics, Vol. III, pp. 32, 164, 347; Vol. VIII, p. 32).
[20] This may be related to the Malay custom of fumigating the infant (see Skeat, op. cit., p. 338).
[21] The following names are typical of this last class. For boys: Ab'beng, a child's song; Agdalpen, name of a spirit; Baguio, a storm; Bakileg, a glutton; Kabato, from bato, a stone; Tabau, this name is a slur, yet is not uncommon; it signifies “a man who is a little crazy, who is sexually impotent, and who will mind all the women say;” Otang, the sprout of a vine; Zapalan, from zapal, the crotch of a tree. For girls: Bangonán, from bangōn, “to rise, to get up;” Igai, from nīgai, a fish; Gīaben, a song; Magīlai, from gīlai the identifying slit made in an animal's ear; Sabak, a flower; Ugōt, the new leaf.
[22] In Madagascar children are oftentimes called depreciative names, such as Rat, with the hope that evil spirits will leave tranquil an infant for which the parents have so little consideration (Grandidier, Ethnologie de Madagascar, Vol. II).
[23] In Selangor, a sick infant is re-named (Skeat, op. cit., p. 341).
[24] Reyes, Filipinas articulos varios, 1st ed., pp. 144–5 (Manila, 1887).
[25] The Malay of the Peninsula bathe both mother and child morning and evening, in hot water to which certain leaves and blossoms are added. It is here described as an act of purification (Skeat, op. cit., pp. 334–5).
[26] Also called salokang (cf. p. 310).
[27] Filipinas articulos varios, p. 144.
[28] F. De Lerena, Ilustracion Filipina, No. 22, p. 254 (Manila, Nov. 15, 1860). An equally interesting account of Tinguian procedure at the time of birth will be found in the account of Polo De Lara, Islas Filipinas, tipos y costumbres, pp. 213, et seq.
[29] In San Juan. Ībal is always held in six months, unless illness has caused an earlier celebration. At this time the liver of a pig is carefully examined, in order to learn of the child's future.
[30] In Likuan this takes place five days after the birth; in Sallapadan it occurs on the first or second day.
[31] On the mat are placed, in addition to the medium's regular outfit, a small jar of basi, five pieces of betel-nut and pepper-leaf, two bundles of rice (palay) in a winnower, a head-axe, and a spear.
[32] This is a dakīdak (cf. p. 311).
[33] Such a taboo sign is here known as kanyau. It is not always used at the conclusion of this ceremony, but is strictly observed following the cutting of the first rice.
[34] That is, a premature child.
[35] Ashes are used against evil spirits by the Peninsular Malay (Skeat, Malay Magic, p. 325).
[36] Sagai is the sound made when scratching away the embers of a fire.
[37] From maysa, one; dua, two; talo, three.
[38] This is also used as mockery. It has no exact English equivalent, but is similar to our slang “rubber.”
[39] In Patok only the agate bead (napodau) is used.
[40] The less pretentious gathering, held by the very poor, is known as pólya.
[41] Worcester, The Non-Christian Tribes of Northern Luzon (Philippine Jour. of Science, Vol. I, No. 8, 1906, p. 858).
[42] It is necessary to use a shallow dish with a high pedestal known as dīas ([Fig. 5], No. 5).
[43] In Ba-ak the breaking and scattering of the rice ball is considered a good omen, as it presages many children. In San Juan the youth throws a rice ball at the ridge pole of the house, and the girl's mother does the same. In this instance, each grain of rice which adheres to the pole represents a child to be born.
[44] The similarity of the Tinguian rice ceremony to that of many other Philippine tribes is so great that it cannot be due to mere chance. Customs of a like nature were observed by the writer among the Bukidnon, Bagobo, Bila-an, Kulaman, and Mandaya of Mindanao, and the Batak of Palawan; they are also described by Reed and Worcester for the Negrito of Zambales and Bataan; while Loarca, writing late in the sixteenth century, records a very like ceremony practised by a coast group, probably the Pintados. At the same time it is worthy of note that Jenks found among the Bontoc Igorot a great divergence both in courtship and marriage. Among the Dusun of British North Borneo the marriage of children of the well-to-do is consummated Page 279nby the eating of rice from the same plate. Other instances of eating together, as a part of the marriage ceremony in Malaysia, are given by Crawley. See Cole, The Wild Tribes of Davao District, Mindanao (Field Museum of Natural History. Vol. XII, No. 2, pp. 102, 144, 157, 192); Reed, Negritos of Zambales (Pub. Ethnological Survey, Vol. II, pt. 1, p. 58 (Manila, 1904)); Worcester, Philippine Journal of Science, Vol. I, p. 811 (Manila, 1906); Loarca, Relacion de las Yslas Filipinas, Chap. X (Arevalo, 1580), translated in Blair and Robertson, The Philippine Islands, Vol. V, pp. 157, et seq.; Jenks, The Bontoc Igorot (Pub. Ethnological Survey, Vol. I, pp. 68, et seq., Manila, 1905); Evans, Journ. Royal Anth. Inst., Vol. XLVII, p. 159; Crawley, The Mystic Rose (London, 1902), pp. 379, et seq.
[45] In Manabo an old woman sleeps between them. Among the Bagobo and Kulaman, of Mindanao, a child is placed between the pair. See Cole, op. cit., pp. 102, 157.
[46] In Likuan they chew of the same betel-nut. Among the Batak of Palawan they smoke of the same cigar.
[47] This part of the ceremony is now falling into disuse.
[48] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 12.
[49] Here again the Tinguian ceremony closely resembles the ancient custom described by Loarca. In his account, the bride was carried to the house of the groom. At the foot of the stairway she was given a present to induce her to proceed; when she had mounted the steps, she received another, as she looked in upon the guests, another. Before she could be induced to set down, to eat and drink, she was likewise given some prized object. Loarca, Relacion de las Yslas Filipinas, Chap. X; also Blair and Robertson, op. cit., Vol. V, p. 157.
[50] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 172. The origin of death is also given in the tales, ibid., p. 177.
[51] The spirit of the dead is generally known as kalading, but in Manabo it is called kal-kolayó and in Likuan alalya; in Ilokano, al-aliá means “phantom” or “ghost.”
[52] In some villages Sᴇlday is the spirit against whom this precaution is taken.
[53] In Daligan and some other villages in Ilocos Norte, a chicken is killed, is burned in a fire, and then is fastened beside the door in place of the live bird.
[54] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 181.
[55] During the funeral of Malakay, in Patok, August 16, 1907, the wife kept wailing, “Malakay, Malakay, take me with you where you go. Malakay, Malakay, take me with you. I have no brother. We were together here, do not let us part. Malakay, take me with you where you go.”
[56] In Manabo the wife is covered at night with a white blanket, but during the day she wears it bandoleer fashion over one shoulder. In Ba-ak a white blanket with black border is used in a similar way. If the wife has neglected her husband during his illness, his relatives may demand that she be punished by having a second blanket placed over her, unless she pays them a small amount. It sometimes occurs that the Lakay or old men impose both fine and punishment. In Likuan the blanket is placed over the corpse and the wife.
[57] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 180.
[58] This is still the case among the Apayao who live to the north of the Tinguian (Cole, Am. Anthropologist, Vol. ii, No. 3, 1909, p. 340). The custom is reflected in the folk-tales (Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 190; cf. also p. 372).
[59] The writer has known of instances, where towns were deserted following an epidemic of smallpox, and the dead were left unburied in the houses. Such instances are unusual even for this dread disease, and the funeral observances usually expose large numbers of the people to infection.
[60] In San Juan only thirty strokes are given.
[61] In Manabo a rectangular hole is dug to about five feet, then at right angles to this a chamber is cut to receive the body. This is cut off from the main grave by a stone. A similar type of grave is found in Sumatra (Marsden, History of Sumatra, 3d ed., p. 287, London, 1811).
[62] According to this author, the Tinguian put the dried remains of their dead in subterranean tombs or galleries, six or seven yards in depth, the entrance being covered with a sort or trap door (La Gironière, Twenty Years in the Philippines, p. 115, London, 1853).
[63] Op. cit., p. 121.
[64] As distinguished from those of the dead.
[65] Several times the writer has seen friends place money inside the mat, “so that the spirit may have something to spend.”
[66] The large spirit house, built only by well-to-do families having the hereditary right.
[67] In the folk tales a very different method of disposing of the dead is indicated (Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, pp. 23–24, and note).
[68] Among the Tuaran Dusun of British North Borneo, a fire is built near the mat on which the corpse lies, to protect the body from evil spirits, who are feared as body snatchers (Evans, Jour. Ant. Inst., Vol. XLVII, 1917, p. 159).
[69] These consist of dishes, food, tobacco, fire-making outfit, weapons, clothing, and the like.
[70] In Ilocos Sur a ceremony which lifts the ban off the relatives is held about five days after the funeral. Three months later, the blood and oil are applied to the spouse, who is then released from all restrictions. In San Juan and Lakub, a ceremony known as Kilyas is held five days after the funeral. The anointing is done as described above, and then the medium drops a ball of rice under the house, saying, “Go away sickness and death, do not come to our relatives.” When she has finished, drums are brought out, all the relatives dance and “forget the sorrow,” and are then released from all taboos. The Layog is celebrated as in the valley towns.
[71] Also known as Waxī in San Juan, and Bagoñgon in Sallapadin. In the latter village, as well as in Manabo and Ba-ak, this ceremony occurs a few days after the funeral.
[72] This is known as Apapáyag or Inapapayag (p. 309).
[73] The foregoing ceremonies follow the death of any adult, male or female, but not of newborn children. If the first-born dies in infancy, it is buried in the middle of the night when no one can see the corpse, otherwise other babies will die. The parents don old garments, and are barred from leaving the town or engaging in pastimes, until the ten-day period has passed. No fire is built at the grave, nor are offerings placed over it. When some one else is holding a Layog, the parents may join them “to relieve their sorrow and show respect for the dead.”
[74] A folk-tale recorded in this town gives quite a different idea of the abode of the spirits (Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, p. 185; also p. 28, note 2).
[75] Functions mentales dans les sociétés inférieures (Paris, 1910).
[76] See Traditions of the Tinguian, this volume, No. 1, pp. 180–182
[77] For a full discussion of this subject, see Cole, Relations between the Living and the Dead (Am. Jour. of Sociology, Vol. XXI, No. 5, 1916, pp. 610, et seq.).