That this story was not imported from the Occident is pretty clearly established by the existence in North Borneo of a tale almost identical with it. The Borneo fable, which is told as a “just-so” story, and is entitled “The Kandowei [rice-bird] and the Kerbau [carabao],” may be found in Evans (pp. 423–424). It runs about as follows:—
The bird said to the buffalo, “If I were to drink the water of a stream, I could drink it all.”—“I also,” said the buffalo, “could finish it; for I am very big, while you are very small.”—“Very well,” said the bird, “tomorrow we will drink.” In the morning, when the water was coming down in flood, the bird told the buffalo to drink first. The buffalo drank and drank; but the water only came down the faster, and at length he was forced to stop. So the buffalo said to the bird, “You can take my place and try, for I cannot finish.” Now, the bird waited till the flood had gone down; and when it had done so, he put his beak into the water and pretended to drink. Then he waited till all the water had run away out of the stream, and said to the buffalo, “See, I have finished it!” And since the bird outwitted the buffalo in this manner, the buffalo has become his slave, and the bird rides on his back.
I know of no other Philippine versions, but I dare say that many exist between Luzon and Mindanao.
The Camanchile and the Passion.
Narrated by Fernando M. Maramag of Ilagan, Isabella province. He says that this is an Ilocano story.
Once upon a time there grew in a forest a large camanchile-tree[1] with spreading branches. Near this tree grew many other trees with beautiful fragrant flowers that attracted travellers. The camanchile had no fragrant flowers; but still its crown was beautifully shaped, for the leaves received as much light as the leaves of the other trees. But the beauty of the crown proved of no attraction to travellers, and they passed the tree by.
One day Camanchile exclaimed aloud, “Oh, what a dreary life I lead! I would that I had flowers like the others, so that travellers would visit me often!” A vine by the name of Passion, which grew near by, heard Camanchile’s exclamation. Now, this vine grew fairly close to the ground, and consequently received “only a small amount of light. Thinking that this was its opportunity to improve its condition, it said, “Camanchile, why is your life dreary?”
“Ah, Passion!” replied Camanchile, “just imagine that you were unappreciated, as I am! Travellers never visit me, for I have no flowers.”
“Oh, that’s easy!” said Passion. “Just let me climb on you, and I’ll display on your crown my beautiful flowers. Then many persons will come to see you.” Camanchile consented, and let Passion climb up on him. After a few days Passion reached the top of the tree, and soon covered the crown.
A few months later Camanchile realized that he was being smothered: he could not get light, so he asked Passion to leave him. “O Passion! what pain I am in! I can’t get light. Your beauty is of no value. I am being smothered: so leave me, I beg of you!”