We found the subprovince of Bontoc peopled by a tribe of wild, warlike, head-hunting Igorots over whom the Spaniards had never been able to establish effective control. At the time of the American occupation their numerous settlements were constantly at war with each other, and with the Kalingas and the Ifugaos as well.
The Bontoc Igorots build large towns and depend on the numbers of their hardy fighting men for protection. Each town formerly kept a profit and loss account of heads with every town of its enemies. Physically these people are splendid men, and we soon found that they were usually both brave and fair in their fighting, formally making and breaking peace, and serving due notice on their enemies before attacking.
If a small town felt itself aggrieved by a big one, it would send a messenger to say, “You have more fighting men than we have, but they are no good! Pick fifteen of the best from your thousand and send them to a certain place at a certain time to meet fifteen real fighting men selected from among our five hundred.” At the appointed time the thirty warriors would meet in deadly combat, while their fellow-townsmen looked on.
The Bontoc Igorots are naturally truthful and honest, and they soon became most friendly, gladly bringing many of their troubles to their lieutenant-governor for settlement. Fortunately, head-accounts between different towns can be adjusted by proper payments made by those who hold the highest scores. We took advantage of this fact to establish peace between the towns, and when once established it was, as a rule, religiously kept.
Trail construction was promptly inaugurated and has been steadily pushed. Most of the towns have thus been made readily accessible.
When friendly relations had been established, and we were in a position to back orders with force if necessary, settlement after settlement was warned that head-hunting must cease and was further informed as to what would happen if the mandate was disobeyed. Certain dare-devils promptly broke over, partly, I fancy, to see what would happen, and partly, no doubt, because they found the influence of tribal customs too strong to resist. We made our warnings come true. One settlement required three bitter lessons. For others a single mild one sufficed. The majority of the towns were content to get their experience vicariously. We were amazed at our own success in stopping this horrible practice. At the outset we burned towns if their people engaged in head-hunting.[6] The Igorots recognized the justice of this action because the whole town was invariably cognizant of, and party to, every head-hunting raid made by any of its people. Later, when head-hunting became comparatively rare, we began to deal with the individuals concerned. They were arrested, brought before the courts, and tried like any other criminals. To-day head-hunting in Bontoc is almost unknown. When it does occur the people themselves usually capture and turn over the culprits.
The respect of the Bontoc Igorots for the law is extraordinary. In 1910 a Constabulary soldier shot the presidente of Tinglayan without just cause. The people of the place rushed to arms, meaning to kill the soldier. Chief Agpad, assisted by the son of the murdered man, took station before the door of the house in which the assailant had sought refuge, and the two stood off their fellow-townsmen, saying that the government had promised to kill evil-doers and that this man must be turned over to the government to be killed! When I passed through their town a few weeks later, with Governor-General Forbes, they begged to have him killed promptly.
In the early days I myself had a rather stormy clash with some of the Bontoc Igorots. During Aguinaldo’s long flight he had passed through half a dozen of their towns, as had the American soldiers who pursued him. The Igorots did not like this, so tore out the trail to Ifugao, between Bontoc and Samoqui, and built high-walled rice paddies where it had been, with the result that persons making the journey had to use the river bed for several miles. This was all very well if the river was low, but was no joke if it chanced to be in flood.
I ordered that the trail be rebuilt, the Igorots to be paid for their work, and for the resulting damage to their rice fields, and this was done.
The lieutenant-governor was a weak man, and the Igorots, after getting their money, tore the trail out again and rebuilt their stone terrace walls across the place where it had been, just to see what he would do about it. He did nothing. I found things in this condition when I arrived, and was obliged to come down the river bed at dusk, with the result that my horse and I took several impromptu baths.