CHAPTER XXIII.
STRANGE STORIES.—THE WISE OLD WOMEN.—THE WALKING LEAVES.—THE HAUNTED SANDALWOOD TREES.—THE EMPEROR OF CHINA.—THE LITTLE BOY AND THE GIANT BIRD.
Pigafetta was no Munchausen, but he had a love of marvelous stories, and there never was a voyage that offered to a European a greater number of curious events and superstitions. Some of the incidents that excited our Chevalier's wonder were natural events which have been since explained. The superstitious legends of the people were, however, for the most part but the growth of folklore through the imagination.
One of these accounts relates to the wise old women who prepared the sacrifices of the wild boar as offerings to the sun. It shows how small may be the real meaning of pompous and pretentious ceremonies. The rites took place in the Philippines.
Says Pigafetta in his narrative prepared for the Grand Master of the Knight of Rhodes:
"Since I have spoken of the idols, it may please your illustrious Highness to have an account of the ceremony with which, in this island, they bless the pig. They begin by sounding some great drums (tamburi); they then bring three large dishes; two are filled with cakes of rice and cooked millet rolled up in leaves, with roast fish; in the third are Cambay cloths and two strips of palm cloth. A cloth of Cambay is spread out on the ground; then two old women come, each of whom has in her hand a reed trumpet. They step upon the cloth and make an obeisance to the sun; they then clothe themselves with the above-mentioned cloths. The first of these puts on her head a handkerchief which she ties on her forehead so as to make two horns, and taking another handkerchief in her hand, dances and sounds her trumpet and invokes the sun.
"The second old woman takes one of the strips of palm cloth and dances, and also sounds her trumpet; thus they dance and sound their trumpets for a short space of time, saying several things to the sun. The first old woman then drops the handkerchief she has in her hand and takes the other strip of cloth, and both together sounding their trumpets, dance for a long time round the pig which is bound on the ground. The first one always speaks in a low tone to the sun, and the second answers her. So the sun and the two old women had a luminous partnership.
"The second old woman then presents a cup of wine to the first, who, while they both continue their address to the sun, brings the cup four or five times near the mouth as though going to drink, and meanwhile sprinkles the wine on the heart of the pig. She then gives up the cup, and receives a lance which she brandishes, while still dancing and reciting, and four or five times directs the lance at the pig's heart; at last, with a sudden and well-aimed blow, she pierces it through and through. She withdraws the lance from the wound, which is then closed and dressed with herbs.
"During the ceremony a torch is always burning, and the old woman who pierced the pig takes and puts it out with her mouth; the other old woman dips the end of her trumpet in the pig's blood, and with it marks with blood the forehead of her husband and of her companion, and then of the rest of the people. But they did not come and do this to us.