Then came sword-dances with naked blades, when some young Moro advanced and retreated, leaped high in the air, or crouched on the ground, waving his barong or kris aloft, now retreating, now coming uncomfortably close to the little party of unarmed Americans, the flickering light gleaming redly on the glittering knife, and reminding one, with a horrid insistence, that the time and place were ideal for a wholesale slaughter.
As the necessities of the dance took the last of these lithe youths farther away, I must confess to a feeling of relief, which mounted to a nervous joy when, after apparently slaying his enemy and grinding him under heel, the dancing combatant gave place to a chubby youngster who stamped, and twirled, and gestured himself into our very hearts. This baby, for he could not have been over four years old, was also a prime favourite with the Moros, who yelled out their delight at his prowess, and even clapped their hands and jumped about in their enthusiasm. But the baby was stoically calm, and moved not a muscle of his little round face in response to their greetings.
Then came the old Maharajah, who had set his price on the American women. Wrinkled, white-haired, and toothless, he danced amidst great applause; and after him a tiny girl posed most picturesquely, throwing out her plump, dimpled wrists, on which twinkled innumerable bangles. Waving each wrist in turn, the little maid would fasten upon it a serious gaze, as if she were a snake-charmer and each arm was a serpent, her hand representing the head, which waved ever back and forth restlessly and in time to the strange music.
Before leaving, a mock marriage was performed for our benefit by the one-eyed Pandita. As is the custom at such times, all the Moro women, including the bride, who is never present at her own wedding, were hidden behind an extemporized curtain. On the ground before this curtain sat the Pandita and the prospective bridegroom, the bare soles of their feet touching and their hands closely clasped beneath an enshrouding cloth. The Pandita then chanted or intoned a service, the bridegroom occasionally joining in, and not infrequently some outsider introduced a facetious expression or joke, which was greeted with uproarious delight by the others, the Moro sense of humour being apparently well developed.
Of course, the mock marriage ended here, but we were told that at this point of the service in a real wedding the groom would go behind the curtain and seize his bride, who was supposed to struggle violently to escape. She would then be carried to the groom’s house, and for three days the feasting and merry making would continue—for everyone but the happy pair, as according to custom, the bride must quarrel violently during this time with the groom, and not allow him to come near her, though when he finally leaves her alone, she must bitterly weep and lament. At the expiration of the three days, this charming state of affairs is discontinued, and they are considered legally married, and thereafter may be as happy as they are capable of being.
On leaving the interpreter’s house to walk back to the ship’s boat, we were lighted by a misty moon which gave the effect of twilight, and in our half lethargic state could hardly be sure that what we had seen that evening was not, after all, a dream or a strange hypnotic memory—the dancing Maharajah, the Pandita performing the marriage ceremony, the terrible sword-dance, and the little snake-charmer fascinating her own plump hands! Was it possible such things had occurred in the twentieth century and on American soil?
Chapter X
Tampakan and the Home Stretch
Our last day in Bongao the Governor secured a little pearling launch, the Hilda, and took several of the Burnside people on a jaunt to the island of Siminor, as it is written on the map, or Siminol, as it is called by the natives. Siminol is about ten miles south of Bongao, and our destination was the town of Tampakan. It was a misty, moisty afternoon, with a sharp salt smell to the air, and through the haze distant mountains loomed spectre-like, or else melted into blue clouds on the horizon.