Adventures in the Philippine Islands

by Paul P. de La Gironière

Chapter IV.

Hunting the Stag—Indian Mode of Chasing the Wild Buffalo: its Ferocity—Dangerous Sport—Capture of a Buffalo—Narrow Escape of an Indian Hunter—Return to Manilla—Injustice of the Governor—My Resignation of Office—I Purchase Property at Jala-Jala—Retire from Manilla to Take Possession of my Domains—Chinese Legend—Festival of St Nicholas—Quinaboutasan—Description of Jala-Jala—Interview with a Bandit Chief—Formation of a Guard—Preparations for Building—Visit to Manilla, and Return to Jala-Jala—Completion of my House—Reception of my Wife by the Natives—The Government of the Philippines—Character of the Tagaloc Indians—Unmerited Chastisement—A Curate Appointed—Our Labours at Civilisation—My Hall of Justice—Buffalo Hunting Expedition.

Naturally fond of hunting, I often went to the home of my Indian friend in the Marigondon mountains. Together we chased the stag, and killed the various kinds of birds which abound in these regions to such an extent that one may always choose between fifteen or twenty different species of pigeons, wild ducks, and fowl, and it frequently happened that I brought down five or six at a shot. The manner of killing wild fowl (a sort of pheasant) much amused me. We rode across the large plains, strewed with young wood, on good and beautiful horses, broken in for the purpose; the dogs raised the game, and, armed with whips, we endeavoured to knock the birds down at a single blow, which is not so difficult as might be imagined. When a number of the frightened flocks left the shelter of the wood we put our steeds to the gallop, and it became a veritable steeple-chase, such as amateur jockeys would much delight in. I also hunted the stag with the lance, on horseback; this sport is likewise very amusing, but, unfortunately, often attended with accidents. This is how they occur:—The horses employed are so well trained to the sport, that as soon as they perceive the stag it is no longer necessary, neither is it possible, to guide them; they pursue the animal at the top of their speed, and leap over every obstruction before them. The horseman carries a lance seven or eight feet long, which he holds in readiness to cast as soon as he thinks himself within reach of the stag. If he misses his aim the lance sticks in the ground, and it then requires great skill to avoid coming in contact with the opposite end, which often wounds either the hunter or the horse. I speak not of the falls to which one is liable from going at a furious gallop along unknown and uneven roads. I had already enjoyed this sport during my first sojourn at the Indian’s, but, well as I acquitted myself, I was never able to gain his permission that I should assist at a chase far more dangerous, and which I might almost call a combat—that of the wild buffalo. To all my questions my host had replied: “In this sport there is much to fear: I would not expose you to the risk.” He avoided, also, taking me near that part of the plain touching upon the mountains of Marigondon, where these animals could generally be found. However, after repeated solicitation, I managed to obtain what I so ardently desired; the Indian only wished to know whether I was a good horseman, if I possessed dexterity; and when he had satisfied himself on these two points, we started one fine morning, accompanied by nine huntsmen and a small pack of dogs. In this part of the Philippines the buffalo is hunted on horseback, and taken with the lasso, the Indians not being much accustomed to the use of guns. In other parts fire-arms are used, as I shall have occasion to recount in another part of my narrative; but, in whichever case, there is little difference in the danger, for the one requires good riding and great skill, the other much presence of mind and a good gun.

The wild buffalo is quite different from the domesticated animal; it is a terrible creature, pursuing the hunter as soon as it gets sight of him, and, should he transfix him with its terrible horns, he would promptly expiate his rashness. My faithful Indian was much more anxious about my safety than his own. He objected to my taking a gun; he had little confidence in my skill with the lasso, and preferred that I should merely sit on horseback, unarmed and unencumbered in my movements; accordingly I set out, with a dagger for my sole weapon. We divided our party by threes, and rode gently about the plains, taking care to keep at a distance from the edge of the wood, lest we should be surprised by the animal we were seeking.

After riding for about an hour, we at last heard the baying of the dogs, and understood that the enemy was forced from its forest retreat. We watched with the deepest attention the spot where we expected him to break forth. He required a great deal of coaxing before he would show; at last there was a sudden crashing noise in the wood; branches were broken, young trees overthrown, and a superb buffalo showed himself, at about one hundred and fifty paces’ distance. He was of a beautiful black, and his horns were of very large dimensions. He carried his head high, and snuffed the air as though scenting his enemies. Suddenly starting off at a speed incredible in so bulky an animal, he made for one of our groups, composed of three Indians, who immediately put their horses to a gallop, and distributed themselves in the form of a triangle. The buffalo selected one of them, and impetuously charged him. As he did so, another of the Indians, whom he passed in his furious career, wheeled his horse and threw the lasso he held ready in his hand; but he was not expert, and missed his aim. Thereupon the buffalo changed his course, and pursued the imprudent man who had thus attacked him, and who now rode right in our direction. A second detachment of three hunters went to meet the brute; one of them passed near him at a gallop, and threw his lasso, but was as unsuccessful as his comrade. Three other hunters made the attempt; not one of them succeeded. I, as a mere spectator, looked on with admiration at this combat—at those evolutions, flights, and pursuits, executed with such order and courage, and with a precision that was truly extraordinary.

I had often witnessed bull-fights, and often had I shuddered at seeing the toreadors adopt a similar method in order to turn the furious animal from the pursuit of the picador. But what comparison could possibly be established between a combat in an enclosed arena and this one in the open plain—between the most terrible of bulls and a wild buffalo? Fiery and hot-blooded Spaniards, proud Castilians, eager for perilous spectacles, go, hunt the buffalo in the plains of the Marigondon! After much flight and pursuit, hard riding, and imminent peril, a dexterous hunter encircled the animal’s horns with his lasso. The buffalo slackened his speed, and shook and tossed his head, stopping now and then to try to get rid of the obstacle which impeded his career. Another Indian, not less skilful than his predecessor, threw his lasso with a like rapidity and success. The furious beast now ploughed the earth with his horns, making the soil fly around him, as if anxious to display his strength, and to show what havoc he would have made with any of us who had allowed themselves to be surprised by him. With much care and precaution the Indians conveyed their prize into a neighbouring thicket. The hunters uttered a shout of joy; for my part I could not repress a cry of admiration. The animal was vanquished; it needed but a few precautions to master him completely. I was much surprised to see the Indians excite him with voice and gesture until he resumed the offensive, and bounded from the ground with fury. What would have been our fate had he succeeded in shaking off or breaking the lassos! Fortunately, there was no danger of this. An Indian dismounted, and, with great agility, attached to the trunk of a solid tree the two lassos that retained the savage beast; then he gave the signal that his office was accomplished, and retired. Two hunters approached, threw their lassos over the animal, and fixed the ends to the ground with stakes; and now our prey was thoroughly subdued, and reduced to immobility, so that we could approach him with impunity. With blows of their cutlasses the Indians hacked off his horns, which would so well have revenged him had he been free to use them; then, with a pointed bamboo, they pierced the membranes that separate the nostrils, and passed through them a cane twisted in the form of a ring. In this state of martyrdom they fastened him securely behind two tame buffaloes, and led him to the next village.

Here the animal was killed, and the hunters divided the carcass, the flesh of which is equal in flavour to beef. I had been fortunate in my first essay, for such encounters with these shaggy sovereigns of the plain do not always end so easily. A few days afterwards we renewed the sport, which, alas! terminated with an accident of too frequent occurrence. An Indian was surprised by a buffalo, at the moment the animal issued from the wood. With one blow from his horns the horse was impaled and cast to the earth, while his Indian rider fell near to him. The inequality of the ground offered some chance of the man escaping the notice of his redoubtable foe, until the latter, by a sudden movement of his head, turned the horse over upon his rider, and inflicted several blows with his horns, either of which would have proved fatal, but from the force becoming diminished in traversing the carcass of the horse. Fortunately some of the other sportsmen succeeded in turning the animal, and compelled him to abandon his victim. It was indeed time, for we found the poor Indian half dead, and terribly gored by the horns of the buffalo. We succeeded in stopping the blood which flowed copiously from his wounds, and carried him to the village upon a hastily constructed litter. It was only by considerable care and attention that his care was eventually effected, and my friend the Indian strongly opposed my assisting at such dangerous sport for the future.

Anna’s health was now completely re-established. I no longer dreaded the return of her fearful malady. During the space of several months I had enjoyed all the pleasures that Tierra-Alta afforded, and my affairs now requiring my presence at Manilla we set out for that city. Immediately after my arrival I was compelled, much to my regret, to resume my ordinary occupation; that is, to visit the sick from morning to night, and from night to morning. My profession did not well accord with my natural character, for I was not sufficiently philosophic to witness, without pain, the sufferings I was incapable of alleviating, and, above all, to watch the death-beds of fathers, of mothers, and of dearly loved children. In a word, I did not act professionally, for I never sent in my bills; my patients paid me when and how they could. To their honour, I am bound to say that I rarely had to complain of forgetfulness. Besides, my appointments permitted me to live sumptuously, to have eight horses in my stables, and to keep open house to my friends and the strangers who visited Manilla. Soon, however, what my friends designated a coup-de-tête caused me to lose all these advantages.

Every month I summoned a council of revision in the regiment to which I belonged. One day I brought forward a young soldier for rejection; all went well; but a native surgeon, long jealous of my reputation, was nominated by the governor to make inquiry and check my declaration. He naturally inserted in his report that I was deceived; that the malady of which I spoke was imaginary; and he succeeded in all this so well that the governor, enraged, condemned me in a penalty of six piasters. The following month I again brought forward the same soldier, as being incapable of performing his duties; a commission of eight surgeons was nominated; their decision was unanimous in my favour, and the soldier was accordingly discharged. This reparation not quite satisfying me, I presented an appeal to the governor, who would not receive it, upon the strange pretext that the decision of the medical committee could not annul his. I confess that I did not understand this argument. This method of reasoning, if reasoning it was, appeared to me specious in the extreme. Why allow the innocent to suffer, and the ignorant practitioner, who had contradicted my opinions and deceived himself, to escape? This injustice revolted me. I am a Breton, and I have lived with Indians—two natures which love only right and justice. I was so much annoyed by the governor’s conduct towards me that I went to him, not to make another reclamation, but to tender my resignation of the important offices which I held. He received me with a specious smile, and told me that after a little reflection I should change my mind. The poor governor, however, was deceived, for, on leaving his palace, I went direct to the minister of finance and purchased the property of Jala-Jala. My course was marked out, my resolution unshakable. Although my resignation was not yet duly accepted, I began to act as though I was completely free. I had at the beginning informed Anna of the matter, and had asked her if she would reside at Jala-Jala. “With you I should be happy anywhere.” Such was her answer. I was free, then, to act as I pleased, and could go wherever my destiny might lead me. I forthwith decided upon visiting the land that I had purchased.

For the execution of this project it was necessary to find a faithful Indian upon whom I could rely. From among my domestics I chose the coachman, a brave and discreet man, who was devoted to me. I took some arms, ammunition, and provisions. At Lapindan, a small village near the town of Santa Anna, I freighted a small boat worked by three Indians: and one morning, without making my project known to my friends, and without inquiring whether the governor had replaced me, I set out to take possession of my domains, respiring the vivifying and pure air of liberty. I ascended in my pirogue—which skimmed along the surface of the waters like a sea-gull—the pretty river Pasig, which issues from the lake of Bay, and traverses, on its way to the sea, the suburbs of Manilla. The banks of this river are planted with thickets of bamboo, and studded with pretty Indian habitations; above the large town of Pasig it receives the waters of the river St. Mateo, at the spot where that river unites itself with that of the Pasig. Upon the left bank are still seen the ruins of the chapel and parsonage of St. Nicholas, built by the Chinese, as the legend I am about to relate informs us.