Adventures in the Philippine Islands

by Paul P. de La Gironière

Tagal Indians.

One morning I was cautioned to put myself on my guard, because some banditti had met together at a few leagues from my house, and intended attacking it. Hearing this, I armed my people, and set out to meet the band that was coming to assail me, so as to anticipate their attack. At the place that had been indicated to me I found nobody, and passed the day in exploring the neighbourhood, in hopes of meeting the bandits, but my search was useless. Suddenly the thought struck me that a secret enemy had imposed upon me, and that, at the moment I was going to face imaginary danger, perhaps my house I had left would be suddenly attacked. I trembled—I shivered all over. I gallopped off, and reached home in the middle of the night. My fears were but too well-founded. I had fallen into a snare. I found my servants armed, watching, with my wife at their head. “What are you doing here?” I exclaimed, going up to her. “I am keeping watch,” she replied, with great presence of mind; “I was told that the advice given to you was false; that you would not find the robbers where you expected, and that, during your absence, they would come here.” This act of heroism proved to me what courage and energy God had given to a woman apparently so delicate. The banditti did not attack us: was there not some guardian angel watching over my dwelling?

We were more than a year at Jala-Jala without seeing a European. One would have thought that we had withdrawn ourselves entirely from the civilised world, and that we were going to live for ever with the Indians. Our mountains had so bad a reputation, that nobody dared expose themselves to the thousand dangers they feared to encounter in the locality. We were therefore alone, yet still very happy. It was, perhaps, the most pleasant time I spent in my life. I was living with a beloved and loving wife; the good work I had undertaken was performed under my eyes; the comfort and happiness, the natural results of such good work, spread themselves among my vassals, who daily became more and more devoted to me. How could I have regretted quitting the pleasures and entertainments of a town, where those diversions and pleasures are bought by lies, hypocrisy, and deceit—those three vices of civilised society? However, the terror spread around by the banditti was not great enough to keep away the Europeans entirely; and one morning some people,[2] mad enough to dare to visit a mad man—such was the name given to me at Manilla, when I left to go and live in the country—came to see me, armed to their very teeth. The surprise of these venturesome visitors is impossible to be described, when they found us at Jala-Jala, calm, and in perfect safety. Their astonishment increased when they went entirely through our colony; and on their return to town they gave such an account of our retreat, and of the entertainments they found there, that shortly after we received more visits, and I had not only to give hospitality to friends, but likewise to strangers. If, now and then, our affairs compelled us to go to Manilla, we very soon came back to our mountains and forests, for there only Anna and myself were happy. Very great reasons alone could induce us to leave our pleasant abode; however, a slight event occurred that obliged us to quit it for a short time. I was informed that one of my friends, who had acted as witness to my marriage, was seriously ill.[3] What the greatest pleasure, the most heartfelt joy, the most splendid banquet, could not obtain from me, friendship exacted. At this sad intelligence I determined at once upon going to Manilla, to give my advice to the sick man, whose family had solicited my aid; and as my absence might be prolonged, I packed up my things, and we left, our hearts sadder than ever at having to quit Jala-Jala on so melancholy an errand. Upon my arrival there, I was told that my friend had been taken from Manilla to Boulacan, a province to the north of that town, where it was hoped the country air would hasten his recovery. I left Anna at her sister’s, and went off to join Don Simon, whom I found convalescent; my presence was almost useless, and the journey I had made resulted in shaking affectionately my former comrade by the hand, whom I would not leave until convinced that he was entirely recovered.

Ilocos Indians.

In order to utilise my time, I decided upon making a tour to the north into the provinces of Ilocos and Pangasinan. I had my reasons for so doing: I wished, if possible, to make an excursion to the Tinguians and Igorrots, wild populations, who were much talked of, but little known. I wished to study them myself. I took the precaution not to confide this idea to anybody, for then, indeed, people would not have known what name to give my folly. I made my preparations, and set out with my faithful lieutenant, Alila, who never left me, and who was justly styled Mabouti-Tao. We were mounted upon good horses, that carried us along like gazelles to Vigan, the chief town of the province of South Ilocos, where we left the animals. From there we took a guide, who conducted us on foot to the east, close to a small river called Abra (opening). This river is the only issue by which we could penetrate to the Tinguians. It winds around high mountains of basalt; its sides are steep; its bed is encumbered with immense blocks of rock, fallen from the sides of the mountains, which render it impossible to walk along its banks. To reach the Tinguians, it is necessary to have recourse to a slight skiff, that can easily pass through the current and the most shallow parts. My guide and my lieutenant soon contrived to make a small raft of bamboos; when it was finished we embarked, Alila and myself, our guide refusing to accompany us. After much trouble and fatigue, casting ourselves often into the water to draw our raft along, we at length got clear of the first range of mountains, and perceived, in a small plain, the first Tinguian village. When we reached there we got out, and went towards the huts we had distinguished in the distance. I allow it was acting rather foolishly to go and thus expose ourselves, in the midst of a colony of ferocious and cruel men whose language we did not know; but I relied upon my usual good fortune. I will add that I had taken divers objects with me to give as presents, trusting to meet some inhabitant speaking the Tagaloc language. I walked on, then, without troubling myself about what would become of us. In a few minutes we reached the nearest cabins, and the inhabitants gave us at first an unwelcome reception. Frightened at seeing us approach, they advanced towards us, armed with hatchets and spears; we waited for them without recoiling in the least. I spoke to them by signs, and showed them some necklaces of glass beads, to make them understand we were friendly disposed. They deliberated among themselves, and when they had held their consultation, they beckoned us to follow them. We obeyed. They led us to their chief, who was an old man. My generosity was greater towards him than it had been to his subjects. He appeared so delighted with my presents, that he immediately put us at our ease, by making us understand that we had nothing to fear, and that he took us under his special protection.

This pleasing reception encouraged us.

I then set about examining with attention the men, women, and children who surrounded us, and who seemed as much astonished as ourselves. My amazement was very great when I beheld tall men, slightly bronzed, with straight hair, regular features, aquiline noses, and really handsome, elegant women. Was I really among savages? I should rather have thought I was among the inhabitants of the south of France, had it not been for the costume and language. The only clothing the men wore was a sash, and a sort of a turban, made out of the bark of the fig tree. They were armed, as they always are, with a long spear, a small hatchet, and a shield. The women also wore a sash, and a small narrow apron that came down to their knees. Their heads were ornamented with pearls, coral beads, and pieces of gold, twisted among their hair; the upper parts of their hands were painted blue; their wrists adorned with interwoven bracelets, spangled with glass beads—these bracelets reached the elbow, and formed a kind of half-plaited sleeve. On this subject I learnt a remarkable fact. These interwoven bracelets squeeze the arm very much; they are put on when the women are quite young, and they prevent the development of the flesh to the advantage of the wrist and hand, which swell and become dreadfully big; this is a mark of beauty with the Tinguians, as a small foot is with the Chinese, and a small waist with the European ladies. I was quite astonished to find myself in the midst of this population, where there was no reason whatsoever to be alarmed. One thing only annoyed me; it was the odour that these people spread around them, which could be smelt even at a distance. However, the men and women are cleanly, for they are in the habit of bathing twice daily. I attributed the disagreeable smell to their sash and turban, which they never leave off, but allow to fall into rags. I remarked that the reception given me by the chief gained us the good-will of all the inhabitants, and I accepted, without hesitation, the hospitality proffered us. This was the only means of studying well the manners and customs of my new hosts.

The territory occupied by the Tinguians is situated about 17 degrees north latitude, and 27 degrees west longitude; it is divided into seventeen villages. Each family possesses two habitations, one for the day and the other for the night. The abode for the day is a small cabin, made of bamboos and straw, in the same style as most Indian huts; the one for the night is smaller, and perched upon great posts, or on the top of a tree, about sixty or eighty feet above the ground. This height surprised me, but I understood this precaution when I knew that thus, under shelter at night, the Tinguians are saved from the nocturnal attacks of the Guinanès, their mortal enemies, and defend themselves with the stones which they throw from the tops of the trees.[4] In the middle of each village there is a large shed, in which are held the assemblies, festivities, and public ceremonies. I had been already two days in the village of Palan (this was the name of the place where I stopped at), when the chiefs received a message from the small town of Laganguilan y Madalag, that lies far off to the east. By this message the chiefs were informed that the inhabitants of this district had fought a battle, and that they had been victorious.