Ilongot Men and Women Clearing the Ground for Rice Planting.

The men have a characteristic trowel. The women have planting sticks of hard wood elaborately carved. The man with the curly head indicates the Negrito blood in these people.

My measurements include 15 men, 8 women and a young boy whose stature is disregarded. The height of the men varied from 1,439 mm. to 1,610 mm., the mean being about 1,540, a very small stature though considerably above the Negrito. The stature of the women was from 1,386 mm. to 1,510 mm., the mean being about 1,440. The cephalic index of all but four of the 24 individuals was between 89 and 80 (brachycephalic), one was 79.9, two were 79, and one 76 (mesaticephalic). The nasal index of all but six varied from 100 to 87 (markedly platyrhinian), while the remaining six had indices from 83 to 76. The mean index of all was 88.6. The arm reach, as is usual in Negritic peoples, exceeded the height.

A peculiarity of the Ilongot face is that, while it is relatively wide at the cheek bones, it narrows rapidly below, giving the effect of a pentagonal shaped face with sharp chin. The eyes are relatively well opened and clear, like the eye of the Negrito, without slant or folding lid.

In the Ilongot then we have a small, shortlegged, wavy or curly-haired man, round headed generally, flat and broad nosed, with occasionally bearded face and restless nervous physiognomy. Most of these are not characteristics of the ordinary forest Malayan; on the contrary, they suggest the Negrito, and occasion the belief, in my own mind, that the Ilongot is, like many other peoples of the Philippines and Malaysia, a mixed race resulting from the union of Negrito and Malayan.

From what has already been said it is apparent that in Ilongot society we have a most rudimentary stage of political development. There is no tribe. There is no chieftainship. There are no social classes, for the Ilongot have neither aristocracy nor slaves nor what is very common in most Malayan communities, a class of bonded debtors. They have words to designate such classes, a slave being “sina lima” and a debtor “makiotang,” but this information was imparted with the repeated statement, “There are none here.” I was unable to get any word whatever for a chieftain, although the Ilongot of Neuva Vizcaya spoke of the “nalahaian” or head of the body of kin, but this person seemed to be only the oldest influential relation in the family group. The Ilongot of Patakgao said it was customary to hold a council called “pogon” but it was evident that this gathering was without definite constitution. The feebleness of the political life of the Ilongot can be appreciated by comparing it to the Igorot, the sturdy mountain headhunters in the Cordillera to the west. The Igorot likewise have no conception of the tribe but they do have thoroughly organized towns and town life. They have a detailed social system, based primarily on the possession of wealth; there are slaves, servant and indebted classes, and a carefully developed and adequate body of law covering property, inheritance, conveyance and contract. Thus the political life of the Igorot, although exceedingly weak on the side of federation or agreement between the independent towns, is centuries of development ahead of the almost institutionless communities of the Ilongot.

The Ilongot appears to be usually a monogamist and the wife is purchased, or at least a dowry called “piyat” is paid in weapons, utensils, liquor, wire, etc. Her position is not at all that of a bought piece of property, but, like the woman in Malayan society generally, she is the companion and almost the equal in influence and independence of the man.

While the machinery for righting injuries or settling grievances is almost non-existent, the Ilongot has a strong sense of injury and of wrongful acts. He will say with the strongest feeling and disgust that certain actions are “forbidden” (ma kŭl).

I once asked an Ilongot what he would do if a man of a neighboring community, with which relations were peaceful, should come and steal his pig. He thereupon detailed the steps open to him. He might take his weapons and go within hallooing distance of the aggressor’s home and demand a double fine or restitution (“baiyad”). If the demand did not avail he would make a solemn warning (“tongtongan”) and then, if satisfaction did not follow, there was no recourse but retaliation. I believe, however, that compensation, even for such offenses as murder, is frequently arranged through the anxiety of all members of the family to escape retaliation. Feud, that inevitably arises under such social conditions as these, pursues generation after generation and the obligation that descends to posterity and relations to take vengeance is spoken of as the “debt of life” (utang nu biay).

Apart from the taking of heads as an act of vengeance, murder with the winning of the gruesome trophy is obligatory on the other occasions as well. An Ilongot once said to me “A man may during his life take three, four or even five heads, but he must take one, and that before he marries. This head he carries to the relations of his intended wife to prove that his heart and body are strong to defend her.” Furthermore, after the palay harvest each year the bundles of unthreshed rice or palay are neatly piled into a stack about a tall stake which is set up in the “kaingin.” Then, for some ungodly reason, a human head is very desirable to place on top of this pole. So raids are made, usually on the Christian settlements below. Several questions may be asked regarding these practises, but I can offer nothing by way of answer. To whom is the “debt of life” owed? To the spirit of the dead person? To the customary Malayan spirits of the forest? Only a long acquaintance would enable one to get to the bottom of the motive of such customs as these.