The Law of the Bolo

by Stanley Portal Hyatt

HOW THE BOLO OF FELIZARDO CUT A KNOT

Many things which happen in the jungle can be kept secret; but a matter like the burying of Dolores in the graveyard of San Polycarpio must become known. They heard of it in Manila the following day, from native sources, and the Press made out of it a great story, which was also perfectly inaccurate, as is usually the case when the information comes through mestizos, people to whom truth is a thing either hateful or unknown.

Felizardo had descended on San Polycarpio with the whole of his band; he had slain the local police, and confined the inhabitants to their houses; had taken the parish priest from his bed, and compelled him, at the point of the bolo, to read the Burial Service; then he had hanged the Teniente of San Polycarpio over the grave, and after that had departed, swearing to return and burn the village itself, if any one dared to interfere with the body of his wife—such was the gist of the first account circulated round Manila.

The insurrecto party, which had sorrowed greatly over the suspension of operations against Felizardo, and over Commissioner Furber’s new attitude of suspicion, held a special meeting to discuss the situation, seeing a chance of forcing on a fresh campaign against the Chief of the Mountains, who was such a deadly enemy of the Sovereign People. It was even suggested that the Teniente of San Polycarpio should actually be hanged, in order to give an air of reality to the whole story. Unfortunately, however, the ex-general of the Army of Liberty, who made the proposal, forgot, or did not know, that the man sitting opposite to him happened to be a brother to that same Teniente. They got the knife away from the Teniente’s brother before any serious harm was done; but, none the less, the meeting broke up in disorder, without having arrived at any definite decision.

The Herald and the Record seized on the story eagerly. Copy was short that day, and this news seemed to offer such splendid opportunities in the way of headlines; but Clancy of the Star was suspicious, and would not use it without confirmation. “Get a launch and go across to Calocan,” he said to his most reliable reporter. “You may induce Basil Hayle to talk. He is sure to know all about it, in fact there’s a rumour that he himself was at the burial. If he won’t tell you anything, which is very probable, go on to San Polycarpio itself, and see the priest. I would sooner have the right story to-morrow than use any of this rubbish to-day.”

The news caused a good deal of commotion in official circles. The Governor-General looked worried, thinking of the hopeless state into which the finances had got—as was inevitable, considering the class of man which the Party was sending out—and wondering whether it would now be necessary to resume those ruinously expensive expeditions against the outlaws, in which case some of the officials would have to be content with their bare salaries, as there would be nothing else left to divide; and that, of course, would mean trouble, and complaints to the Party managers. Already, Commissioner Gumpertz was showing a nasty spirit, as was also Commissioner Johnson, and it had been necessary to give them, or rather their nominees, a contract for a long and utterly useless road to the hills, in order to keep them quiet. Moreover, as that road had to be paid for by loan, the Press had got early information of it, and had said some things concerning the contract which were very unpleasant, because perfectly true. Now, if, as was rumoured, Felizardo was actually out on the warpath himself, there would be fresh expenses, fresh anxieties about money matters.

Commissioner Gumpertz, on the other hand, having nothing to do with the finances, except as regarded the share of them which he himself got, was by no means displeased to hear of Felizardo’s supposed raid. He had never given up hope of being able ultimately to sell that hemp land on the northern side of the outlaw’s mountains; and if he could revive the campaign against the old chief, he felt certain in his own mind that this time it would be carried through to the end, even though the President had to order the Army to assist. Incidentally, too, the reopening of hostilities would be deadly to the prestige of Commissioner Furber, and might possibly lead to his resignation, in which case Mr Gumpertz was in hopes that the vacant post would be filled by a certain ex-partner of his own, a most admirable arrangement. As a result of these views, the Commissioner of Lands and Registration was very ready to be interviewed by the Press on the subject of Felizardo’s latest exploit, and expressed his opinions most forcibly. He had always been opposed to the new policy of leaving this brigand alone, he said; and this outrage at San Polycarpio went to prove that he had been right. It would be necessary now to resume operations on a larger scale than ever. The Regular Army would have to be called upon to provide troops, its chiefs being shown plainly that they were, after all, merely the servants of the State, and that it was not for them to say whether they would, or would not, assist the Civil Government. The Commission must be supreme. No individual member of it must be allowed to dictate to his colleagues, and no murderer and outlaw, like Felizardo, must be allowed to remain in a state of insolent independence. The present state of affairs was an insult to the Flag, a violation of all the great principles for which the Party stood.

True, the Herald headed its report of the interview, “Commissioner on the High Horse,” “Gumpertz gets on the Great Gee-Gee,” and thereby spoilt a good deal of the effect; but still the Commissioner for Lands and Registration had the satisfaction of knowing that he had got in the first blows both at his own colleague and at Felizardo. Lower down on the same page the Herald announced that Mr Furber declined to be interviewed. “The Commissioner looked cross,” it stated, for once telling the crude truth; but it did not dare to reproduce the remarks which a certain highly-placed Army officer had made to its reporter concerning Mr Gumpertz and his views.

Still, enough was published that day to set all Manila talking, and when, on the following morning, a launch came in from Igut, bringing Captain Bush’s report of the affair, the sensation was even greater; for Bush, having conveniently forgotten the good turn Basil Hayle had once done him in suppressing all mention of his absence from the great fight in the plaza of Igut, now told the story of how the Constabulary officer had been present at the burial of Dolores, actually assisting Felizardo, instead of endeavouring to arrest him. It was a venomous, damning report, full of the jealousy which the man who had been a soldier felt of the man who would always be a soldier, and, more important than that, of the jealousy which the man who had made Mrs Bush’s life utterly miserable felt of the man who could have made her happy. True, some of the details given in the first rumours, such as the hanging of the Teniente and the holding up of the village, were not mentioned in the Scout officer’s version; but these omissions were hardly noticed in view of the intensely interesting character of the rest.

“They will certainly give Hayle the sack, even if they do not bring him to trial,” was the general opinion of Manila men who, in most cases, added their conviction that Captain Bush was a low-down cur, for, despite Basil’s reticence, it had long since leaked out unofficially that the Scout officer had been missing on the occasion of the insurrecto attack, and had only appeared after the killing was finished. Moreover, they knew his character pretty well in Manila, and did not admire it greatly.