We now rapidly completed our journey to Bakidan’s place, where we were to spend the night. Here again a crowd of armed fighting men awaited us. It was momentarily augmented by the arrival of recruits from the villages through which we had just passed.
Still unsuspicious of mischief, we turned our revolvers over to one of our Ilocano companions, a man named Lucio, who had served as Aguinaldo’s mail-carrier during the latter days of the insurrection. We then walked into the middle of the crowd and sat down on pieces of our own luggage.
Bakidan immediately brought me a small wicker basket of very dirty looking bananas. I was nauseated as a result of severe exertion in climbing Dead Man’s Mountain, and the bananas did not look appetizing, so I thanked him and put the basket on my lap. Instantly I felt strong tension rising in the crowd. We had brought along chief Atumpa and several friendly Kalingas from the Saltan River valley. They seized their head-axes and stepped in behind us, facing out. Bakidan instantly withdrew into his own house, and from a point where hardly any one except myself could see him made emphatic gestures, indicating that I was to eat. Little suspecting the significance of the act, but desirous of placating his outraged feelings if he felt that his hospitality had not been appreciated, I hastily peeled a banana and took a bite. To my amazement, there was an instant and obvious relaxation of tension in the crowd. The Kalinga warriors loosened their grip on their head-axes and began to walk about and talk. My own old men also assumed an air of indifference.
Much puzzled, I made up my mind to look into this matter further, and later learned that when people from one Kalinga settlement visit those of another if the latter wish to be friendly it is customary for them to offer the visitors salt if they have it, bananas if salt is lacking, and water in the event that neither salt nor bananas are available. If the visitors wish to accept the friendship thus proffered, they promptly eat or drink, as the case may be; otherwise it is understood that they have come looking for trouble.
Bakidan had ceremonially proffered the friendship of himself and his people, and in my ignorance I had practically declared war on the whole outfit! When I learned these facts I asked Bakidan why they did not kill us at once. He said they were afraid. I expressed my surprise that they should be afraid of three unarmed men, and he explained that it was very bad etiquette in the Kalinga country for a person with a head-axe to go behind another, and that we had amazed every one when we walked into the midst of that gathering of armed men and sat down with our backs to half of them. They instantly concluded that we had, concealed about our persons, some new and strange device with which we could annihilate a crowd, hence they were afraid!
Here, as at Saking’s place, we had interrupted a head-cañao. The head had been smuggled out of sight just before our arrival. The cañao was now renewed and continued all night, although the head was not again put in evidence. It is needless to say that we attended. We witnessed one of the weirdest sights I have ever seen.
The following day was spent in distributing presents to the Kalinga head-men, in taking photographs, and in getting a little much needed rest. As evening drew near Bakidan suggested that it was about time we formally made friends with each other. We were beginning to feel rather far away from home, and wanted all the friends we could get, so promptly acceded to his suggestion and repaired to his house at eight o’clock, the hour he had indicated.
The ceremony proved very simple. His wife fried some boiled rice in fat—dog fat as we afterward learned, but fortunately we did not know this at the moment! We all squatted on the floor, Bakidan facing us, and the dish of fried rice was placed between us. He squeezed a mass of it into a ball and gave it to me. I ate it, and then rendered him a similar service. He ate in turn, and we were friends! The same procedure was followed with each of my companions.
In the midst of the ceremony there came a very unexpected interruption. A Kalinga woman was standing near me holding a torch. She had been silent and had seemed timid. I chanced to stretch out my right hand palm up. To my surprise she uttered an exclamation which was almost a shriek, seized my wrist and began to point excitedly to the lines in my palm. The other Kalingas gathered about, evidently greatly interested. Several of them showed the lines in the palms of their own hands, and an animated conversation ensued. I asked what it all meant, and was informed that I was going to become a man of great influence! I had already modestly introduced myself as the ruler of all non-Christians, so found this reply unsatisfactory, but could get no other.
It was fortunate indeed for us that we made friends with Bakidan. On the following day we continued our journey down the valley. Our baggage was carried by women, children and a few old and more or less decrepit warriors who obviously felt deeply insulted at being required to render such a menial service, and were decidedly resentful toward Bakidan for having ordered them to do it.