The treaty that I made with the Sultan, if strictly enforced on the first infraction, will soon put an end to all the dangers to be apprehended from them. To conclude, I am satisfied that under ordinary circumstances, to pass through the Sooloo Sea will shorten by several days the passage to Manilla or Canton, and be a great saving of expense in the wear and tear of a ship and her canvass.
[On the eighteenth of February, the ship reaches the Straits of Singapore, where they find the other three vessels of the fleet, namely, the “Porpoise,” the “Oregon,” and “Flying-Fish.”]
Letter from Father Quirico More, to the Father Superior of the Mission
Davao, January 20, 1885.
Pax Christi.
My well beloved in Christ, the Father Superior:
Several times I have designed to address your Reverence in regard to the Moros of this gulf, but after the observation of your Reverence of the second of last December, I have been unwilling to postpone longer to set about this matter.
I have read some statistical works, both official and semi-official, which treat of the population[54] of this gulf, and I have noticed that in general more importance is given to the Moros of this district than is theirs, and a greater number of people than in reality exists. The reason for this general error lies in the fact that the Moros quite regularly live along the coasts and at the mouths of the large rivers, while the heathens of other races live as a general rule in the interior of the island. Consequently, the Moros form, as it were, a sort of barrier or screen which prevents the heathens from being seen, and worse yet, hinders us from becoming acquainted with them, and alluring and gaining them for God and the fatherland. That would be easy of attainment, if once this phantom of the Moros were laid. That can be easily attained if one remembers what the Moros of Dávao are, whom I shall endeavor to show forth in this letter.
We are making a bit of history, as one commonly says. Shortly before the conquest, which was concluded by Don José Oyangúren[55] in the year 1848, the pontin[56] “San Rufo,” which had been equipped by one of the commercial houses of Manila, had come to Dávao. The captain and second officer of the said boat were Spaniards, and in addition they were accompanied by an Italian who was a private trader. They had a letter of recommendation from the sultan of Mindanao, for the datos of the sea of Dávao, which charged those datos to receive those of the “San Rufo” as friends. The Moros of this place pretended to respect the letter of the sultan, and engaged in trade with the men of the boat, offering them friendship and a considerable quantity of wax in exchange for their effects. But taking advantage of the opportunity, when the majority of the crew were some distance from the boat fishing with the ship’s skiff, the Moros presented themselves armed with krises, spears, and balaraos, bringing with them, in order to conceal their mischievous intentions, considerable wax for barter. The interpreter informed the captain that so many Moros, so well armed on an occasion when there were scarcely any men in the boat gave rise to suspicions regarding their intentions. The captain replied that he did not fear the Moros. The pilot remonstrated, saying that it would not do any harm to take a few precautions. To this the captain replied: “Are you afraid of the Moros?” “Although we do not fear them,” added the pilot, “that is no reason why we should scorn the advice of the interpreter.” “Well, if you wish it,” said the captain, “have a sentinel posted with musket ready.” Accordingly the sentinel was posted, and in addition one of the Europeans and the interpreter prepared their arms also. All this time more and more Moros were continually arriving. They contrived to isolate the Europeans and separate them from one another. When they were most busily engaged in examining and weighing the wax, those assassins drew their krises at a given signal. Two reports rang out and two Moros fell dead, but in a few moments, the heads of the Christians rolled on the ground. The only ones left alive were two servants, that of the captain and that of the Italian, whom the Moros retained as slaves. These men after a few days, seized a baroto and escaped in it, made the crossing to Pundaguítan, whence they went to Surigao to give notice of what had occurred in the “San Rufo,” believing that the seamen who were fishing at the time of the attack, had also been assassinated. Those seamen on seeing what was occurring on the “San Rufo” escaped in a small boat to the Hijo River, whence they went overland to Línao (now Bunáuan). All of the above was told me by one of the two servants, who had been captured and had escaped. That servant returned later with Oyangúren, and acted on several occasions as my helmsman, and finally died in the shipwreck of Father Vivero.
When that crime was reported in Manila, satisfaction was demanded of the sultan of Mindanao. The latter answered that he had no subjects in Dávao, and that he did not consider the Moros of this bay as such, since they had disobeyed his orders; and accordingly that the Spanish government was to deal with them directly. By virtue of that, from that moment the Moros of Dávao must be considered as independent and separate from the rest of the Moros. Consequently, if the Spanish government has complete liberty of action anywhere in regard to the Moros, it is doubtless in this gulf of Dávao.