Before we started Bakidan warned us that the Kalingas were queer people, and in consequence it would be well for us very quietly to go around certain of their settlements. Others we would visit. Their inhabitants would be sure to invite us to stay and enjoy their hospitality. He would second every such invitation. We were to pay no attention to his words, but were to note whether or not he sat down. If he did, we might accept the invitation. Otherwise we must plead an urgent engagement farther down the valley and move on.
Things came out exactly as he had foretold. In several villages we heard noises decidedly suggestive of head cañaos, and discreetly circled these places. We declined all invitations seconded by Bakidan when he did not seat himself, and rested comfortably for a time in several villages where he did.
Toward noon we walked straight into an ambush laid for us in the runo grass, discovering it only when Bakidan began to deliver a forceful oration in which he set forth the fact that he had a right to stroll down his own valley with a party of friends without being annoyed by having his fellow tribesmen hide beside the trail and prepare to throw lances.
Bakidan, who was himself a famous warrior, told these men that they might kill us if they saw fit to do so, but must kill him first. Apparently rather ashamed of themselves, they came out on to the trail and slunk off to their town. Bakidan, greatly disgusted, suggested that we follow them and lunch in their village just to show that we were not afraid of them, and we did this.
After lunch I photographed a number of our late opponents, and we then continued our journey, escorted by a Kalinga chief named Bogauit from Took-Took. This man had previously descended to the Cagayan valley, where he had seen white people, and hearing of our advent in the Kalinga country, and fearing that we might have trouble in getting carriers for our baggage, had come with his fighting men to help us out.
The people of his village received us in a most friendly spirit, and after attending a bit of a cañao organized in our honour, and doing our best to entertain the crowd with a few simple experiments in physics, and some sleight-of-hand tricks, we retired, as we supposed, for a peaceful night’s rest.
No such good fortune awaited us. We were aroused in the middle of the night by a fearful din only to find our hut surrounded by a great circle of armed men. The people who had attempted to ambush us earlier in the day had repented of their action in letting us pass through unharmed, had gathered a strong force of fighting men, had surrounded our house and were now vociferously demanding to be allowed to take our heads.
Old Bakidan was apparently fighting a duel with their chief in the midst of the circle. The two men were dancing around each other with cat-like steps, occasionally coming to close quarters and clashing shields, then leaping apart, swinging their head-axes and obviously watching for an opportunity to strike home. Had either of them gained any decided advantage of position he would doubtless have used his head-axe, and this would have started a fight which could have had but one ending.
The Sub-provincial Building at Quiangan.