The pĭn-tĕng′ is responsible for the death of every person who loses his head. He puts murder in the minds of all men who are to be successful in taking heads. He also sees the outrages of warfare, and visits vengeance on those who kill babes and small children.
In his relations with the unseen spirit world the Igorot has certain visible, material friends that assist him by warnings of good and evil. When a chicken is killed its gall is examined, and, if found to be dark colored, all is well; if it is light, he is warned of some pending evil in spirit form. Snakes, rats, crows, falling stones, crumbling earth, and the small reddish-brown omen bird, i′-chu, all warn the Igorot of pending evil.
Exorcist
Since the anito is the cause of all bodily afflictions the chief function of the person who battles for the health of the afflicted is that of the exorcist, rather than that of the therapeutist.
Many old men and women, known as “in-sûp-âk′,” are considered more or less successful in urging the offending anito to leave the sick. Their formula is simple. They place themselves near the afflicted part, usually with the hand stroking it, or at least touching it, and say, “Anito, who makes this person sick, go away.” This they repeat over and over again, mumbling low, and frequently exhaling the breath to assist the departure of the anito—just as, they say, one blows away the dust; but the exhalation is an open-mouthed outbreathing, and not a forceful blowing. One of our house boys came home from a trip to a neighboring pueblo with a bad stone bruise for which an anito was responsible. For four days he faithfully submitted to flaxseed poultices, but on the fifth day we found a woman in-sûp-âk′ at her professional task in the kitchen. She held the sore foot in her lap, and stroked it; she murmured to the anito to go away; she bent low over the foot, and about a dozen times she well feigned vomiting, and each time she spat out a large amount of saliva. At no time could purposeful exhalations be detected, and no explanation of her feigned vomiting could be gained. It is not improbable that when she bent over the foot she was supposed to be inhaling or swallowing the anito which she later sought to cast from her. In half an hour she succeeded in “removing” the offender, but the foot was “sick” for four days longer, or until the deep-seated bruise discharged through a scalpel opening. The woman unquestionably succeeded in relieving the boy’s mind.
When a person is ill at his home he sends for an in-sûp-âk′, who receives for a professional visit two manojos of palay, or two-fifths of a laborer’s daily wage. In-sûp-âk′ are not appointed or otherwise created by the people, as are most of the public servants. They are notified in a dream that they are to be in-sûp-âk′.
As compared with the medicine man of some primitive peoples the in-sûp-âk′ is a beneficial force to the sick. The methods are all quiet and gentle; there is none of the hubbub or noise found in the Indian lodge—the body is not exhausted, the mind distracted, or the nerves racked. In a positive way the sufferer’s mind receives comfort and relief when the anito is “removed,” and in most cases probably temporary, often permanent, physical relief results from the stroking and rubbing.
The man or woman of each household acts as mediator between any sick member of the family and the offending anito. There are several of these household ceremonials performed to benefit the afflicted.
If one was taken ill or was injured at any particular place in the mountains near the pueblo, the one in charge of the ceremony goes to that place with a live chicken in a basket, a small amount of basi (a native fermented drink), and usually a little rice, and, pointing with a stick in various directions, says the Wa-chao′-wad or Ay′-ug si a-fi′-ĭk ceremony—the ceremony of calling the soul. It is as follows: