The brass instrument, the only kind I ever saw in use except as a semitoy in the hands of small boys, is from 2 to 3 inches in length, and has a tongue, attached at one end, cut from the middle of the narrow strip of metal. (The Igorot make the ab-a'-fu of metal cartridges.) A cord is tied to the instrument at the end at which the tongue is attached, and this the player jerks to vibrate the tongue. The instrument is held at the mouth, is lightly clasped between the lips, and, as the tongue vibrates, the player breathes a low, soft tune through the instrument. One must needs get within 2 or 3 feet of the player to catch the music, but I must say after hearing three or four men play by the half hour, that they produce tunes the theme of which seems to me to bespeak a genuine musical taste.

I have seen a few crude bamboo flutes in the hands of young men, but none were able to play them. I believe they are of Ilokano introduction.

A long wooden drum, hollow and cannon-shaped, and often 3 feet and more long and about 8 inches in diameter, is common in Benguet, and is found in Lepanto, but is not found or known in Bontoc. A skin stretched over the large end of the drum is beaten with the flat of the hands to accompany the music of the metal drums or gang'-sa, also played with the flat of the hands, as described, in pueblos near the western border of Bontoc area.

Vocal music

The Igorot has vocal music, but in no way can I describe it — to say nothing of writing it. I tried repeatedly to write the words of the songs, but failed even in that. The chief cause of failure is that the words must be sung — even the singers failed to repeat the songs word after word as they repeat the words of their ordinary speech. There are accents, rests, lengthened sounds, sounds suddenly cut short — in fact, all sorts of vocal gymnastics that clearly defeated any effort to "talk" the songs. I believe many of the songs are wordless; they are mere vocalizations — the "tra la la" of modern vocal music; they may be the first efforts to sing.

I was told repeatedly that there are four classes of songs, and only four. The mang-ay-u-weng', the laborer's song, is sung in the field and trail. The mang-ay-yeng' is said to be the class of songs rendered at all ceremonies, though I believe the doleful funeral songs are of another class. The mang-ay-lu'-kay and the ting-ao' I know nothing of except in name.

Most of the songs seem serious. I never heard a mother or other person singing to a babe. However, boys and young men, friends with locked arms or with arms over shoulders, often sing happy songs as they walk along together. They often sing in "parts," and the music produced by a tenor and a bass voice as they sing their parts in rhythm, and with very apparent appreciation of harmony, is fascinating and often very pleasing.

Dancing

The Bontoc Igorot dances in a circle, and he follows the circle contraclockwise. There is no dancing without gang'-sa music, and it is seldom that a man dances unless he plays a gang'-sa. The dance step is slower than the beats on the gang'-sa; there is one complete "step" to every full 4/4 count. At times the "step" is simply a high-stepping slow run, really a springing prance. Again it is a hitching movement with both feet close to the earth, and one foot behind the other. The line of dancers, well shown in Pls. CXXXI, CLI, and CLII, passes slowly around the circle, now and again following the leader in a spiral movement toward the center of the circle and then uncoiling backward from the center to the path. Now and again the line moves rapidly for half the distance of the circumference, and then slowly backs a short distance, and again it all but stops while the men stoop forward and crouch stealthily along as though in ambush, creeping on an enemy. In all this dancing there is perfect rhythm in music and movements. There is no singing or even talking — the dance is a serious but pleasurable pastime for those participating.

As is shown also by the illustrations, the women dance. They throw their blankets about them and extend their arms, usually clutching tobacco leaves in either hand — which are offerings to the old men and which some old man frequently passes among them and collects — and they dance with less movement of the feet than do the men. Generally the toes scarcely leave the earth, though a few of the older women invariably dance with a high movement and backward pawing of one foot which throws the dust and gravel over all behind them. I have more than once seen the dance circle a cloud of dust raised by one pawing woman, and the people at the margin of the circle dodging the gravel thrown back, yet they only laughed and left the woman to pursue her peculiar and discomforting "step." The dancing women are generally immediately outside the circle, and from them the rhythm spreads to the spectators until a score of women are dancing on their toes where they stand among the onlookers, and little girls everywhere are imitating their mothers. The rhythmic music is fascinating, and one always feels out of place standing stiff legged in heavy, hobnailed shoes among the pulsating, rhythmic crowd. Now and again a woman dances between two men of the line, forcing her way to the center of the circle. She is usually more spectacular than those about the margin, and frequently holds in her hand her camote stick or a ball of bark-fiber thread which she has spun for making skirts. I once saw such a dancer carry the long, heavy wooden pestle used in pounding out rice.

A few times I have seen men dance in the center of the circle somewhat as the women do, but with more movement, with a balancing and tilting of the body and especially of the arms, and with rapid trembling and quivering of the hands. The most spectacular dance is that of the man who dances in the circle brandishing a head-ax. He is shown in Pls. CLII and CLIII. At all times his movements are in perfect sympathy and rhythm with the music. He crouches around between the dancers brandishing his ax, he deftly all but cuts off a hand here, an arm or leg there, an ear yonder. He suddenly rushes forward and grinningly feigns cutting off a man's head. He contorts himself in a ludicrous yet often fiendish manner. This dance represents the height of the dramatic as I have seen it in Igorot life. His is truly a mimetic dance. His colleague with the spear and shield, who sometimes dances on the outskirts of the circle, now charging a dancer and again retreating, also produces a true mimetic and dramatic spectacle. This is somewhat more than can be said of the dance of the women with the camote sticks, pestles, and spun thread. The women in no way "act" — they simply purposely present the implements or products of their labors, though in it all we see the real beginning of dramatic art.

Other areas, and other pueblos also, have different dances. In the Benguet area the musicians sit on the earth and play the gang'-sa and wooden drum while the dancers, a man and woman, pass back and forth before them. Each dances independently, though the woman follows the man. He is spectacular with from one to half a dozen blankets swinging from his shoulders, arms, and hands.

Captain Chas. Nathorst, of Cervantes, has told me of a dance in Lepanto, believed by him to be a funeral dance, in which men stand abreast in a long line with arms on each other's shoulders. In this position they drone and sway and occasionally paw the air with one foot. There is little movement, and what there is is sluggish and lifeless.

Games

Cockfighting is the Philippine sport. Almost everywhere the natives of the Archipelago have cockfights and horse races on holidays and Sundays. They are also greatly addicted to the sport of gambling. The Bontoc Igorot has none of the common pastimes or games of chance. This fact is remarkable, because the modern Malayan is such a gamester.

Only in toil, war, and numerous ceremonials does the Bontoc man work off his superfluous and emotional energy. One might naturally expect to find Jack a dull boy, but he is not. His daily round of toil seems quite sufficient to keep the steady accumulation of energy at a natural poise, and his head-hunting offers him the greatest game of skill and chance which primitive man has invented.



Formalities

The Igorot has almost no formalities, the "etiquette" which one can recognize as binding "form." When the American came to the Islands he found the Christians exceedingly polite. The men always removed their hats when they met him, the women always spoke respectfully, and some tried to kiss his hand. Every house, its contents and occupants, to which he might go was his to do with as he chose. Such characteristics, however, seem not to belong to the primitive Malayan. The Igorot meets you face to face and acts as though he considers himself your equal — both you and he are men — and he meets his fellows the same way.

When Igorot meet they do not greet each other with words, as most modern people do. As an Igorot expressed it to me they are "all same dog" when they meet. Sometimes, however, when they part, in passing each other on the trial, one asks where the other is going.

The person with a load has the right of way in the trail, and others stand aside as best they can.

There is commonly no greeting when a person comes to one's house, nor is there a greeting between members of a family when one returns home after an absence even of a week or more.

Children address their mothers as "I'-na," their word for mother, and address their father as "A'-ma," their word for father. They do this throughout life.

Igorot do not kiss or have other formal physical expression to show affection between friends or relatives. Mothers do not kiss their babes even.

The Igorot has no formal or common expression of thankfulness. Whatever gratitude he feels must be taken for granted, as he never expresses it in words.

When an Igorot desires to beckon a person to him he, in common with the other Malayans of the Archipelago, extends his arm toward the person with the hand held prone, not supine as is the custom in America, and closes the hand, also giving a slight inward movement of the hand at the wrist. This manner of beckoning is universal in Luzon.

The hand is almost never used to point a direction. Instead, the head is extended in the direction indicated — not with a nod, but with a thrusting forward of the face and a protruding of the open lips; it is a true lip gesture. I have seen it practically everywhere in the Islands, among pagans, Mohammedans, and Christians.

PART 8

Religion

Spirit belief

The basis of Igorot religion is every man's belief in the spirit world — the animism found widespread among primitive peoples. It is the belief in the ever-present, ever-watchful a-ni'-to, or spirit of the dead, who has all power for good or evil, even for life or death. In this world of spirits the Igorot is born and lives; there he constantly entreats, seeks to appease, and to cajole; in a mild way he threatens, and he always tries to avert; and there at last he surrenders to the more than matchful spirits, whose numbers he joins, and whose powers he acquires.

All things have an invisible existence as well as a visible, material one. The Igorot does not explain the existence of earth, water, fire, vegetation, and animals in invisible form, but man's invisible form, man's spirit, is his speech. During the life of a person his spirit is called "ta'-ko." After death the spirit receives a new name, though its nature is unchanged, and it goes about in a body invisible to the eye of man yet unchanged in appearance from that of the living person. There seems to be no idea of future rewards or punishments, though they say a bad a-ni'-to is sometimes driven away from the others.

The spirit of all dead persons is called "a-ni'-to" — this is the general name for the soul of the dead. However, the spirits of certain dead have a specific name. Pin-teng' is the name of the a-ni'-to of a beheaded person; wul-wul is the name of the a-ni'-to of deaf and dumb persons — it is evidently an onomatopoetic word. And wong-ong is the name of the a-ni'-to of an insane person. Fu-ta-tu is a bad a-ni'-to, or the name applied to the a-ni'-to which is supposed to be ostracized from respectable a-ni'-to society.

Besides these various forms of a-ni'-to or spirits, the body itself is also sometimes supposed to have an existence after death. Li-mum' is the name of the spiritual form of the human body. Li-mum' is seen at times in the pueblo and frequently enters habitations, but it is said never to cause death or accident. Li-mum' may best be translated by the English term "ghost," although he has a definite function ascribed to the rather fiendish "nightmare" — that of sitting heavily on the breast and stomach of a sleeper.

The ta'-ko, the soul of the living man, is a faithful servant of man, and, though accustomed to leave the body at times, it brings to the person the knowledge of the unseen spirit life in which the Igorot constantly lives. In other words, the people, especially the old men, dream dreams and see visions, and these form the meshes of the net which has caught here and there stray or apparently related facts from which the Igorot constructs much of his belief in spirit life.

The immediate surroundings of every Igorot group is the home of the a-ni'-to of departed members of the group, though they do not usually live in the pueblo itself. Their dwellings, sementeras, pigs, chickens, and carabaos — in fact, all the possessions the living had — are scattered about in spirit form, in the neighboring mountains. There the great hosts of the a-ni'-to live, and there they reproduce, in spirit form, the life of the living. They construct and live in dwellings, build and cultivate sementeras, marry, and even bear children; and eventually, some of them, at least, die or change their forms again. The Igorot do not say how long an a-ni'-to lives, and they have not tried to answer the question of the final disposition of a-ni'-to, but in various ceremonials a-ni'-to of several generations of ancestors are invited to the family feast, so the Igorot does not believe that the a-ni'-to ceases, as an a-ni'-to, in what would be the lifetime of a person.

When an a-ni'-to dies or changes its form it may become a snake — and the Igorot never kills a snake, except if it bothers about his dwelling; or it may become a rock — there is one such a-ni'-to rock on the mountain horizon north of Bontoc; but the most common form for a dead a-ni'-to to take is li'-fa, the phosphorescent glow in the dead wood of the mountains. Why or how these various changes occur the Igorot does not understand.

In many respects the dreamer has seen the a-ni'-to world in great detail. He has seen that a-ni'-to are rich or poor, old or young, as were the persons at death, and yet there is progression, such as birth, marriage, old age, and death. Each man seems to know in what part of the mountains his a-ni'-to will dwell, because some one of his ancestors is known to inhabit a particular place, and where one ancestor is there the children go to be with him. This does not refer to desirability of location, but simply to physical location — as in the mountain north of Bontoc, or in one to the east or south.

As was stated in a previous chapter, with the one exception of toothache, all injuries, diseases, and deaths are caused directly by a-ni'-to. In certain ceremonies the ancestral a-ni'-to, are urged to care for living descendants, to protect them from a-ni'-to that seek to harm — and children are named after their dead ancestors, so they may be known and receive protection. In the pueblo, the sementeras, and the mountains one knows he is always surrounded by a-ni'-to. They are ever ready to trip one up, to push him off the high stone sementera dikes or to visit him with disease. When one walks alone in the mountain trail he is often aware that an a-ni'-to walks close beside him; he feels his hair creeping on his scalp, he says, and thus he knows of the a-ni'-to's presence. The Igorot has a particular kind of spear, the sinalawitan, having two or more pairs of barbs, of which the a-ni'-to is afraid; so when a man goes alone in the mountains with the sinalawitan he is safer from a-ni'-to than he is with any other spear.

The Igorot does not say that the entire spirit world, except his relatives, is against him, and he does not blame the spirits for the evils they inflict on him — it is the way things are — but he acts as though all are his enemies, and he often entreats them to visit their destruction on other pueblos. It is safe to say that one feast is held daily in Bontoc by some family to appease or win the good will of some a-ni'-to.

At death the spirit of a beheaded person, the pin-teng', goes above to chayya, the sky. The old men are very emphatic in this belief. They always point to the surrounding mountains as the home of the a-ni'-to, but straight above to chayya, the sky, as the home of the spirit of the beheaded. The old men say the pin-teng' has a head of flames. There in the sky the pin-teng' repeat the life of those living in the pueblo. They till the soil and they marry, but the society is exclusive — there are none there except those who lost their heads to the enemy.

The pin-teng' is responsible for the death of every person who loses his head. He puts murder in the minds of all men who are to be successful in taking heads. He also sees the outrages of warfare, and visits vengeance on those who kill babes and small children.

In his relations with the unseen spirit world the Igorot has certain visible, material friends that assist him by warnings of good and evil. When a chicken is killed its gall is examined, and, if found to be dark colored, all is well; if it is light, he is warned of some pending evil in spirit form. Snakes, rats, crows, falling stones, crumbling earth, and the small reddish-brown omen bird, i'-chu, all warn the Igorot of pending evil.

Exorcist

Since the anito is the cause of all bodily afflictions the chief function of the person who battles for the health of the afflicted is that of the exorcist, rather than that of the therapeutist.

Many old men and women, known as "in-sup-ak'," are considered more or less successful in urging the offending anito to leave the sick. Their formula is simple. They place themselves near the afflicted part, usually with the hand stroking it, or at least touching it, and say, "Anito, who makes this person sick, go away." This they repeat over and over again, mumbling low, and frequently exhaling the breath to assist the departure of the anito — just as, they say, one blows away the dust; but the exhalation is an open-mouthed outbreathing, and not a forceful blowing. One of our house boys came home from a trip to a neighboring pueblo with a bad stone bruise for which an anito was responsible. For four days he faithfully submitted to flaxseed poultices, but on the fifth day we found a woman in-sup-ak' at her professional task in the kitchen. She held the sore foot in her lap, and stroked it; she murmured to the anito to go away; she bent low over the foot, and about a dozen times she well feigned vomiting, and each time she spat out a large amount of saliva. At no time could purposeful exhalations be detected, and no explanation of her feigned vomiting could be gained. It is not improbable that when she bent over the foot she was supposed to be inhaling or swallowing the anito which she later sought to cast from her. In half an hour she succeeded in "removing" the offender, but the foot was "sick" for four days longer, or until the deep-seated bruise discharged through a scalpel opening. The woman unquestionably succeeded in relieving the boy's mind.

When a person is ill at his home he sends for an in-sup-ak', who receives for a professional visit two manojos of palay, or two-fifths of a laborer's daily wage. In-sup-ak' are not appointed or otherwise created by the people, as are most of the public servants. They are notified in a dream that they are to be in-sup-ak'.

As compared with the medicine man of some primitive peoples the in-sup-ak' is a beneficial force to the sick. The methods are all quiet and gentle; there is none of the hubbub or noise found in the Indian lodge — the body is not exhausted, the mind distracted, or the nerves racked. In a positive way the sufferer's mind receives comfort and relief when the anito is "removed," and in most cases probably temporary, often permanent, physical relief results from the stroking and rubbing.

The man or woman of each household acts as mediator between any sick member of the family and the offending anito. There are several of these household ceremonials performed to benefit the afflicted.

If one was taken ill or was injured at any particular place in the mountains near the pueblo, the one in charge of the ceremony goes to that place with a live chicken in a basket, a small amount of basi (a native fermented drink), and usually a little rice, and, pointing with a stick in various directions, says the Wa-chao'-wad or Ay'-ug si a-fi'-ik ceremony — the ceremony of calling the soul. It is as follows:

"A-li-ka' ab a-fi'-ik Ba-long'-long en-ta-ko' is a'-fong sang'-fu." The translation is: "Come, soul of Ba-long'-long; come with us to the house to feast." The belief is that the person's spirit is being enticed and drawn away by an anito. If it is not called back shortly, it will depart permanently.

The following ceremony, called "ka-taol'," is said near the river, as the other is in the mountains:

"A-li-ka' ta-en-ta-ko is a'-fong ta-ko' tay la-ting' is'-na." Freely translated this is: "Come, come with us into the house, because it is cold here."

A common sight in the Igorot pueblo or in the trails leading out is a man or woman, more frequently the latter, carrying the small chicken basket, the tube of basi, and the short stick, going to the river or the mountains to perform this ceremony for the sick.

After either of these ceremonies the person returns to the dwelling, kills, cooks, and, with other members of the family, eats the chicken.

For those very ill and apparently about to die there is another ceremony, called "a'-fat," and it never fails in its object, they affirm — the afflicted always recovers. Property equal to a full year's wages is taken outside the pueblo to the spot where the affliction was received, if it is known, and the departing soul is invited to return in exchange for the articles displayed. They take a large hog which is killed where the ceremony is performed; they take also a large blue-figured blanket — the finest blanket that comes to the pueblo — a battle-ax and spear, a large pot of "preserved" meat, the much-prized woman's bustle-like girdle, and, last, a live chicken. When the hog is killed the person in charge of the ceremony says: "Come back, soul of the afflicted, in trade for these things."

All then return to the sick person's dwelling, taking with them the possessions just offered to the soul. At the house they cook the hog, and all eat of it; as those who assisted in the ceremony go to their own dwellings they carry each a dish of the cooked pork.

The next day, since the afflicted person does not die, they have another ceremony, called "mang-mang," in the house of the sick. A chicken is killed, and the following ceremonial is spoken from the center of the house:

"The sick person is now well. May the food become abundant; may the chickens, pigs, and rice fruit heads be large. Bring the battle-ax to guard the door. Bring the winnowing tray to serve the food; and bring the wisp of palay straw to sweep away the many words spoken near us."

For certain sick persons no ceremony is given for recovery. They are those who are stricken with death, and the Igorot claims to know a fatal affliction when it comes.

Lumawig, the Supreme Being

The Igorot has personified the forces of nature. The personification has become a single person, and to-day this person is one god, Lu-ma'-wig. Over all, and eternal, so far as the Igorot understands, is Lu-ma'-wig — Lu-ma'-wig, who had a part in the beginning of all things; who came as a man to help the survivors and perpetuators of Bontoc; who later came as a man to teach the people whom he had befriended, and who still lives to care for them. Lu-ma'-wig is the greatest of spirits, dwelling above in chayya, the sky. All prayers for fruitage and increase — of men, of animals, and of crops — all prayers for deliverance from the fierce forces of the physical world are made to him; and once each month the pa'-tay ceremony, entreating Lu-ma'-wig for fruitage and health, is performed for the pueblo group by an hereditary class of men called "pa'-tay — a priesthood in process of development. Throughout the Bontoc culture area Lu-ma'-wig, otherwise known but less frequently spoken of as Fu'-ni and Kam-bun'-yan, is the supreme being. Scheerer says the Benguet Igorot call their "god" Ka-bu-ni'-an — the same road as Kam-bun'-yan.

In the beginning of all things Lu-ma'-wig had a part. The Igorot does not know how or why it is so, but he says that Lu-ma'-wig gave the earth with all its characteristics, the water in its various manifestations, the people, all animals, and all vegetation. To-day he is the force in all these things, as he always has been.

Once, in the early days, the lower lands about Bontoc were covered with water. Lu-ma'-wig saw two young people on top of Mount Po'-kis, north of Bontoc. They were Fa-tang'-a and his sister Fu'-kan. They were without fire, as all the fires of Bontoc were put out by the water. Lu-ma'-wig told them to wait while he went quickly to Mount Ka-lo-wi'-tan, south of Bontoc, for fire. When he returned Fu'-kan was heavy with child. Lu-ma'-wig left them, going above as a bird flies. Soon the child was born, the water subsided in Bontoc pueblo, and Fa-tang'-a with his sister and her babe returned to the pueblo. Children came to the household rapidly and in great numbers. Generation followed generation, and the people increased wonderfully.

After a time Lu-ma'-wig decided to come to help and teach the Igorot. He first stopped on Ka-lo-wi'-tan Mountain, and from there looked over the young women of Sabangan, searching for a desirable wife, but he was not pleased with the girls of Sabangan because they had short hair. He next visited Alap, but the young women of that pueblo were sickly; so he came on to Tulubin. There the marriageable girls were afflicted with goiter. He next stopped at Bontoc, where he saw two young women, sisters, in a garden. Lu-ma'-wig came to them and sat down. Presently he asked why they did not go to the house. They answered that they must work; they were gathering beans. Lu-ma'-wig was pleased with this, so he picked one bean of each variety, tossed them into the baskets — when presently the baskets were filled to the rim. He married Fu'-kan, the younger of the two industrious sisters, and namesake of the mother of the people of Bontoc.

After marriage he lived at Chao'-wi, in the present ato of Sigichan, near the center of Bontoc pueblo. The large, flat stones which were once part of Lu-ma'-wig's dwelling are still lying in position, and are shown in Pl. CLIII.

Lu-ma'-wig at times exhibited his marvelous powers. They say he could take a small chicken, feed it a few grains of rice, and in an hour it would be full grown. He could fill a basket with rice in a very few moments, simply by putting in a handful of kernels. He could cut a stick of wood in the mountains, and with one hand toss it to his dwelling in the pueblo. Once when out in I-shil' Mountains northeast of Bontoc, Fa-tang'-a, the brother-in-law of Lu-ma'-wig, said to him, "Oh, you of no value! Here we are without water to drink. Why do you not give us water?" Lu-ma'-wig said nothing, but he turned and thrust his spear in the side of the mountain. As he withdrew the weapon a small stream of water issued from the opening. Fa-tang'-a started to drink, but Lu-ma'-wig said, "Wait; the others first; you last." When it came Fa-tang'-a's turn to drink, Lu-ma'-wig put his hand on him as he drank and pushed him solidly into the mountain. He became a rock, and the water passed through him. Several of the old men of Bontoc have seen this rock, now broken by others fallen on it from above, but the stream of water still flows on the thirsty mountain.

In an isolated garden, called "fil-lang'," now in ato Chakong, Lu-ma'-wig taught Bontoc how best to plant, cultivate, and garner her various agricultural products. Fil-lang' to-day is a unique little sementera. It is the only garden spot within the pueblo containing water. The pueblo is so situated that irrigating water can not be run into it, but throughout the dry season of 1903 — the dryest for years in Bontoc — there was water in at least a fourth of this little garden. There is evidently a very small. but perpetual spring within the plat. Taro now occupies the garden and is weeded and gathered by Na-wit', an old man chosen by the old men of the pueblo for this office. Na-wit' maintains and the Igorot believe that the vegetable springs up without planting. As the watering of fil-lang' is through the special dispensation of Lu-ma'-wig, so the taro left by him in his garden school received from him a peculiar lease of life — it is perpetual. The people claim that all other taro beds must be planted annually.

Lu-ma'-wig showed the people how to build the fawi and pabafunan, and with his help those of Lowingan and Sipaat were constructed. He also told them their purposes and uses. He gave the people names for many of the things about them; he also gave the pueblo its name.

He gave them advice regarding conduct — a crude code of ethics. He told them not to lie, because good men do not care to associate with liars. He said they should not steal, but all people should take care to live good and honest lives. A man should have only one wife; if he had more, his life would soon be required of him. The home should be kept pure; the adulterer should not violate it; all should be as brothers.

As has been previously said, the people of Bontoc claim that they did not go to war or kill before Lu-ma'-wig came.

They say no Igorot ever divorced a wife who bore him a child, yet they accuse Lu-ma'-wig of such conduct, but apparently seek to excuse the act by saying that at the time he was partially insane. Fu'-kan, Lu-ma'-wig's wife, bore him several children. One day she spoke very disrespectfully to him. This change of attitude on her part somewhat unbalanced him, and he put her with two of her little boys in a large coffin, and set them afloat on the river. He securely fastened the cover of the coffin, and on either end tied a dog and a cock. The coffin floated downstream unobserved as far as Tinglayan. There the barking of the dog and the crowing of the cock attracted the attention of a man who rushed out into the river with his ax to secure such a fine lot of pitch-pine wood. When he struck his ax in the wood a voice called from within, "Don't do that; I am here." Then the man opened the coffin and saw the woman and children. The man said his wife was dead, and the woman asked whether he wanted her for a wife. He said he did, so she became his wife.

After a time the children wanted to return to Bontoc to see their father. Before they started their mother instructed them to follow the main river, but when they arrived at the mouth of a tributary stream they became confused, and followed the river leading them to Kanyu. There they asked for their father, but the people killed them and cut them up. Presently they were alive again, and larger than before. They killed them again and again. After they had come to life seven times they were full-grown men; but the eighth time Kanyu killed them they remained dead. Bontoc went for their bodies, and told Kanyu that, because they killed the children of Lu-ma'-wig, their children would always be dying — and to-day Bontoc points to the fewness of the houses which make up Kanyu. The bodies were buried close to Bontoc on the west and northwest; scarcely were they interred when trees began to grow upon and about the graves — they were the transformed bodies of Lu-ma'-wig's children. The Igorot never cut trees in the two small groves nearby the pueblo, but once a year they gather the fallen branches. They say that a Spaniard once started to cut one of the trees, but he had struck only a few blows when he was suddenly taken sick. His bowels bloated and swelled and he died in a few minutes.

These two groves are called "Pa-pa-tay'" and "Pa-pa-tay' ad So-kok'," the latter one shown in Pl. CLIV. Each is said to be a man, but among some of the old men the one farthest to the north is now said to be a woman. The reason they assign for now calling one a woman is because it is situated lower down on the mountain than the other. They are held sacred, and the monthly religious ceremonial of patay is observed beneath their trees.

It seems that Lu-ma'-wig soon became irritated and jealous, because Fu'-kan was the wife of another man, and he sent word forbidding her to leave her house. About this time the warriors of Tinglayan returned from a head-hunting expedition. When Fu'-kan heard their gongs and knew all the pueblo was dancing, she danced alone in the house. Soon those outside felt the ground trembling. They looked and saw that the house where Fu'-kan lived was trembling and swaying. The women hastened to unfortunate Fu'-kan and brought her out of the house. However, in coming out she had disobeyed Lu-ma'-wig, and shortly she died.

Lu-ma'-wig's work was ended. He took three of his children with him to Mount Po'-kis, on the northern horizon of Bontoc, and from there the four passed above into the sky as birds fly. His two other children wished to accompany him, but he denied them the request; and so they left Bontoc and journeyed westward to Loko (Ilokos Provinces) because, they said, if they remained, they would die. What became of these two children is not known; neither is it known whether those who went above are alive now; but Lu-ma'-wig is still alive in the sky and is still the friendly god of the Igorot, and is the force in all the things with which he originally had to do.

Throughout the Bontoc culture area Lu-ma'-wig is the one and only god of the people. Many said that he lived in Bontoc, and, so far as known, they hold the main facts of the belief in him substantially as do the people of his own pueblo.

"Changers" in religion

In the western pueblos of Alap, Balili, Genugan, Takong, and Sagada there has been spreading for the past two years a changing faith. The people allying themselves with the new faith call themselves "Su-pa-la'-do," and those who speak Spanish say they are "guardia de honor."

The Su-pa-la'-do continue to eat meat, but wash and cleanse it thoroughly before cooking. They are said also not to hold any of the ceremonials associated with the old faith. They keep a white flag flying from a pole near their dwelling, or at least one such flag in the section of the pueblo in which they reside. They also believe that Lu-ma'-wig will return to them in the near future.

A Tinguian man of the pueblo of Pay-yao', Lepanto, a short journey from Agawa, in Bontoc, is said to be the leading spirit in this faith of the "guardia de honor." It is believed to be a movement taking its rise from the restless Roman Catholic Ilokano of the coast.

In Bontoc pueblo the thought of the return of Lu-ma'-wig is laughed at. The people say that if Lu-ma'-wig was to return they would know of it. However, two families in Bontoc, one that of Finumti, the tattooer, and the other that of Kayyad, a neighbor of Finumti, have a touch of a changing faith. They are known in Bontoc as O-lot'.

I was not able to trace any connection between the O-lot' and the Su-pa-la'-do, though I presume there is some connection; but I learned of the O-lot' only during the last few days of my stay in Bontoc. The O-lot' are said not to eat meat, not to kill chickens, not to smoke, and not to perform any of the old ceremonies. However, I do not believe they or in fact the Su-pa-la'-do neglect all ceremonials, because such a turning from a direct, positive, and very active religious life to one of total neglect of the old religious ceremonials would seem to be impossible for an otherwise normal Igorot.

Priesthood

That the belief in spirits is the basis of Igorot religion is shown in the fact that each person or each household has the necessary power and knowledge to intercede with the anito. No class of persons has been differentiated for this function, excepting the limited one of the dream-appointed insupak or anito exorcists.

That belief in a supreme being is a later development than the belief in spirits is clear when the fact is known that a differentiated class of persons has arisen whose duty it is to intercede with Lumawig for the people as a whole.

This religious intercessor has few of the earmarks of a priest. He teaches no morals or ethics, no idea of future rewards or punishments, and he is not an idle, nonproductive member of the group. He usually receives for the consumption of his family the food employed in the ceremonies to Lumawig, but this would not sustain the family one week in the fifty-two. The term "priesthood" is applied to these people for lack of a better one, and because its use is sufficiently accurate to serve the present purpose.

There are three classes of persons who stand between the people and Lumawig, and to-day all hold an hereditary office. The first class is called "Wa-ku'," of which there are three men, namely, Fug-ku-so', of ato Somowan, Fang-u-wa', of ato Lowingan, and Cho-Iug', of ato Sigichan. The function of these men is to decide and announce the time of all rest days and ceremonials for the pueblo. These Wa-ku' inform the old men of each ato, and they in turn announce the days to the ato. The small boys, however, are the true "criers." They make more noise in the evening before the rest day, crying "Teng-ao'! whi! teng-ao'!" ("Rest day! hurrah! rest day!"), than I have heard from the pueblo at any other time.

The title of the second class of intercessors is "Pa'-tay," of whom there are two in Bontoc — Kad-lo'-san, of ato Somowan, and Fi'-Iug, of ato Longfoy.

The Pa'-tay illustrate the nature of the titles borne by all the intercessors. The title is the same as the name of the ceremony or one of the ceremonies which the person performs.

Once every new moon each Pa'-tay performs the pa'-tay ceremony in the sacred grove near the pueblo. This ceremony is for the general well-being of the pueblo.

The third class of intercessors has duties of a two-fold nature. One is to allay the rain and wind storms, called "baguios," and to drive away the cold; and the other is to petition for conditions favorable to crops. There are seven of these men, and each has a distinct title. All are apparently of equal importance to the group.

Le-yod', of ato Lowingan, whose title is "Ka-lob'," has charge of the ka-lob' ceremony held once or twice each year to allay the baguios. Ang'-way, of ato Somowan, whose title is "Chi-nam'-wi," presides over the chi-nam'-wi ceremony to drive away the cold and fog. This ceremony usually occurs once or twice each year in January, February, or March. He also serves once each year in the fa-kil' ceremony for rain. Cham-lang'-an, of ato Filig, has the title "Po-chang'," and he has one annual ceremony for large palay. A fifth intercessor is Som-kad', of ato Sipaat; his title is "Su'-wat." He performs two ceremonies annually — one, the su'-wat, for palay fruitage, and the other a fa-kil' for rains. Ong-i-yud', of ato Fatayyan, is known by the title of "Ke'-eng." He has two ceremonies annually, one ke'-eng and the other tot-o-lod'; both are to drive the birds and rats from the fruiting palay. Som-kad', of ato Sigichan, with the title "O-ki-ad'," has charge of three ceremonies annually. One is o-ki-ad', for the growth of beans; another is los-kod', for abundant camotes, and the third is fa-kil', the ceremony for rain. There are four annual fa-kil' ceremonies, and each is performed by a different person.

Sacred days

Teng-ao' is the sacred day, the rest day, of Bontoc. It occurs on an average of about every ten days throughout the year, though there appears to be no definite regularity in its occurrence. The old men of the two ato of Lowingan and Sipaat determine when teng-ao' shall occur, and it is a day observed by the entire pueblo.

The day is publicly announced in the pueblo the preceding evening. If a person goes to labor in the fields on a sacred day — not having heard the announcement, or in disregard of it — he is fined for "breaking the Sabbath." The old men of each ato discover those who have disobeyed the pueblo law by working in the field, and they announce the names to the old men of Lowingan and Sipaat, who promptly take from the lawbreaker firewood or rice or a small chicken to the value of about 10 cents, or the wage of two days. March 3, 1903, was teng-ao' in Bontoc, and I saw ten persons fined for working. The fines are expended in buying chickens and pigs for the pa'-tay ceremonies of the pueblo.

Ceremonials

A residence of five months among a primitive people about whom no scientific knowledge existed previously is evidently so scant for a study of ceremonial life that no explanation should be necessary here. However, I wish to say that no claim is made that the following short presentation is complete — in fact, I know of several ceremonies by name about which I can not speak at all with certainty. Time was also insufficient to get accurate translations of all ceremonial utterances which are here presented.

There is great absence of formalism in uttering ceremonies, scarcely two persons speak exactly the same words, though I believe the purport of each ceremony, as uttered by two people, to be the same. This looseness may be due in part to the absence of a developed cult having the ceremonies in charge from generation to generation.

Ceremonies connected with agriculture

Pochang

This ceremony is performed at the close of the period Pa-chog', the period when rice seed is put in the germinating beds.

It is claimed there is no special oral ceremony for Po-chang'. The proceeding is as follows: On the first day after the completion of the period Pa-chog' the regular monthly Pa'-tay ceremony is held. On the second day the men of ato Sigichan, in which ato Lumawig resided when he lived in Bontoc, prepare a bunch of runo as large around as a man's thigh. They call this the "cha-nug'," and store it away in the ato fawi, and outside the fawi set up in the earth twenty or more runo, called "pa-chi'-pad — the pud-pud' of the harvest field.

The bunch of runo is for a constant reminder to Lumawig to make the young rice stalks grow large. The pa-chi'-pad are to prevent Igorot from other pueblos entering the fawi and thus seeing the efficacious bundle of runo.

During the ceremony of Lis-lis, at the close of the annual harvest of palay, both the cha-nug' and the pa-chi'-pad are destroyed by burning.

Chaka

On February 10, 1903, the rice having been practically all transplanted in Bontoc, was begun the first of a five-day general ceremony for abundant and good fruitage of the season's palay. It was at the close of the period I-na-na'.

The ceremony of the first day is called "Su-yak'." Each group of kin — all descendants of one man or woman who has no living ascendants — kills a large hog and makes a feast. This day is said to be passed without oral ceremony.

The ceremony of the second day was a double one. The first was called "Wa-lit'" and the second "Mang'-mang." From about 9.30 until 11 in the forenoon a person from each family — usually a woman — passed slowly up the steep mountain side immediately west of Bontoc. These people went singly and in groups of two to four, following trails to points on the mountain's crest. Each woman carried a small earthen pot in which was a piece of pork covered with basi. Each also carried a chicken in an open-work basket, while tucked into the basket was a round stick about 14 inches long and half an inch in diameter. This stick, "lo'-lo," is kept in the family from generation to generation.

When the crest of the mountain was reached, each person in turn voiced an invitation to her departed ancestors to come to the Mang'-mang feast. She placed her olla of basi and pork over a tiny fire, kindled by the first pilgrim to the mountain in the morning and fed by each arrival. Then she took the chicken from her basket and faced the west, pointing before her with the chicken in one hand and the lo'-lo in the other. There she stood, a solitary figure, performing her sacred mission alone. Those preceding her were slowly descending the hot mountain side in groups as they came; those to follow her were awaiting their turn at a distance beneath a shady tree. The fire beside her sent up its thin line of smoke, bearing through the quiet air the fragrance of the basi.

The woman invited the ancestral anito to the feast, saying:

"A-ni'-to ad Lo'-ko, su-ma-a-kay'-yo ta-in-mang-mang'-ta-ko ta-ka-ka'-nen si mu'-teg." Then she faced the north and addressed the spirit of her ancestors there: "A-ni'-to ad La'-god, su-ma-a-kay'-yo ta-in-mang-mang'-ta-ko ta-ka-ka'-nen si mu'-teg." She faced the east, gazing over the forested mountain ranges, and called to the spirits of the past generation there: "A-ni'-to ad Bar'-lig su-ma-a-kay'-yo ta-in-mang-mang'-ta-ko ta-ka-ka-nen si mu'-teg."

As she brought her sacred objects back down the mountain another woman stood alone by the little fire on the crest.

The returning pilgrim now puts her fowl and her basi olla inside her dwelling, and likely sits in the open air awaiting her husband as he prepares the feast. Outside, directly in front of his door, he builds a fire and sets a cooking olla over it. Then he takes the chicken from its basket, and at his hands it meets a slow and cruel death. It is held by the feet and the hackle feathers, and the wings unfold and droop spreading. While sitting in his doorway holding the fowl in this position the man beats the thin-fleshed bones of the wings with a short, heavy stick as large around as a spear handle. The fowl cries with each of the first dozen blows laid on, but the blows continue until each wing has received fully half a hundred. The injured bird is then laid on its back on a stone, while its head and neck stretch out on the hard surface. Again the stick falls, cruelly, regularly, this time on the neck. Up and down its length it is pummeled, and as many as a hundred blows fall — fall after the cries cease, after the eyes close and open and close again a dozen times, and after the bird is dead. The head receives a few sharp blows, a jet of blood spurts out, and the ceremonial killing is past. The man, still sitting on his haunches, still clasping the feet of the pendent bird, moves over beside his fire, faces his dwelling, and voices the only words of this strangely cruel scene. His eyes are open, his head unbending, and he gazes before him as he earnestly asks a blessing on the people, their pigs, chickens, and crops.

The old men say it is bad to cut off a chicken's head — it is like taking a human head, and, besides, they say that the pummeling makes the flesh on the bony wings and neck larger and more abundant — so all fowls killed are beaten to death.

After the oral part of the ceremony the fowl is held in the flames till all its feathers are burned off. It is cut up and cooked in the olla before the door of the dwelling, and the entire family eats of it.

Each family has the Mang'-mang ceremony, and so also has each broken household if it possesses a sementera — though a lone woman calls in a man, who alone may perform the rite connected with the ceremonial killing, and who must cook the fowl. A lone man needs no woman assistant.

Though the ancestral anito are religiously bidden to the feast, the people eat it all, no part being sacrificed for these invisible guests. Even the small olla of basi is drunk by the man at the beginning of the meal.

The rite of the third day is called "Mang-a-pu'-i." The sementeras of growing palay are visited, and an abundant fruitage asked for. Early in the morning some member of each household goes to the mountains to get small sprigs of a plant named "pa-lo'-ki." Even as early as 7.30 the pa-lo'-ki had been brought to many of the houses, and the people were scattering along the different trails leading to the most distant sementeras. If the family owned many scattered fields, the day was well spent before all were visited.

Men, women, and boys went to the bright-green fields of young palay, each carrying the basket belonging to his sex. In the basket were the sprigs of pa-lo'-ki, a small olla of water, a small wooden dish or a basket of cooked rice, and a bamboo tube of basi or tapui. Many persons had also several small pieces of pork and a chicken. As they passed out of the pueblo each carried a tightly bound club-like torch of burning palay straw; this would smolder slowly for hours.

On the stone dike of each sementera the owner paused to place three small stones to hold the olla. The bundle of smoldering straw was picked open till the breeze fanned a blaze; dry sticks or reeds quickly made a small, smoking fire under the olla, in which was put the pork or the chicken, if food was to be eaten there. Frequently, too, if the smoke was low, a piece of the pork was put on a stick punched into the soil of the sementera beside the fire and the smoke enwrapped the meat and passed on over the growing field.

As soon as all was arranged at the fire a small amount of basi was poured over a sprig of pa-lo'-ki which was stuck in the soil of the sementera, or one or two sprigs were inserted, drooping, in a split in a tall, green runo, and this was pushed into the soil. While the person stood beside the efficacious pa-lo'-ki an invocation was voiced to Lumawig to bless the crop.

The olla and piece of pork were at once put in the basket, and the journey conscientiously continued to the next sementera. Only when food was eaten at the sementera was the halt prolonged.

A-sig-ka-cho' is the name of the function of the fourth day. On that day each household owning sementeras has a fish feast.

At that season of the year (February), while the water is low in the river, only the very small, sluggish fish, called "kacho," is commonly caught at Bontoc. Between 200 and 300 pounds of those fish, only one in a hundred of which exceeded 2 1/2 inches in length, were taken from the river during the three hours in the afternoon when the ceremonial fishing was in progress.

Two large scoops, one shown in Pl. XLIX, were used to catch the fish. They were a quarter of a mile apart in the river, and were operated independently.

At the house the fish were cooked and eaten as is described in the section on "Meals and mealtime."

When this fish meal was past the last observance of the fourth day of the Cha'-ka ceremonial was ended.

The rite of the last day is called "Pa'-tay." It is observed by two old Pa'-tay priests. Exactly at high noon Kad-lo'-san left his ato carrying a chicken and a smoldering palay-straw roll in his hand, and the unique basket, tak-fa', on his shoulder. He went unaccompanied and apparently unnoticed to the small grove of trees, called "Pa-pa-tay' ad So-kok'." Under the trees is a space some 8 or 10 feet across, paved with flat rocks, and here the man squatted and put down his basket. From it he took a two-quart olla containing water, a small wooden bowl of cooked rice, a bottle of native cane sugar, and a head-ax. He next kindled a blaze under the olla in a fireplace of three stones already set up. Then followed the ceremonial killing of the chicken, as described in the Mang'-mang rite of the second day. With the scarcely dead fowl held before him the man earnestly addressed a short supplication to Lumawig.

The fowl was then turned over and around in the flame until all its feathers were burned off. Its crop was torn out with the fingers. The ax was struck blade up solid in the ground, and the legs of the chicken cut off from the body by drawing them over the sharp ax blade, and they were put at once into the pot. An incision was cut on each side of the neck, and the body torn quickly and neatly open, with the wings still attached to the breast part. A glad exclamation broke from the man when he saw that the gall of the fowl was dark green. The intestines were then removed, ripped into a long string, and laid in the basket. The back part of the fowl, with liver, heart, and gizzard attached, went into the now boiling pot, and the breast section followed it promptly. Three or four minutes after the bowl of rice was placed immediately in front of the man, and the breast part of the chicken laid in the bowl on the rice. Then followed these words: "Now the gall is good, we shall live in the pueblo invulnerable to disease."

The breast was again put in the pot, and as the basket was packed up in preparation for departure the anito of ancestors were invited to a feast of chicken and rice in order that the ceremony might be blessed.

At the completion of this supplication the Pa'-tay shouldered his basket and hastened homeward by a different route from which he came.

If a chicken is used in this rite it is cooked in the dwelling of the priest and is eaten by the family. If a pig is used the old men of the priest's ato consume it with him.

The performance of the rite of this last day is a critical half hour for the town. If the gall of the fowl is white or whitish the palay fruitage will be more or less of a failure. The crop last year was such — a whitish gall gave the warning. If a crow flies cawing over the path of the Pa'-tay as he returns to his dwelling, or if the dogs bark at him, many people will die in Bontoc. Three years ago a man was killed by a falling bowlder shortly after noon on this last day's ceremonial — a flying crow had foretold the disaster. If an eagle flies over the path, many houses will burn. Two years ago an eagle warned the people, and in the middle of the day fifty or more houses burned in Bontoc in the three ato of Pokisan, Luwakan, and Ungkan.

If none of these calamities are foretold, the anito enemies of Bontoc are not revengeful, and the pueblo rests in contentment.

Suwat

This ceremony, performed by Som-kad' of ato Sipaat, occurs in the first period of the year, I-na-na'. The usual pig or chicken is killed, and the priest says: "In-fi-kus'-na ay pa-ku' to-mo-no'-ka ad chay'-ya." This is: "Fruit of the palay, grow up tall, even to the sky."



Keeng

Ke'-eng ceremony is for the protection of the palay. Ong-i-yud', of ato Fatayyan, is the priest for this occasion, and the ceremony occurs when the first fruit heads appear on the growing rice. They claim two good-sized hogs are killed on this day. Then Ong-i-yud' takes a ki'-lao, the bird-shaped bird scarer, from the pueblo and stealthily ducks along to the sementera where he suddenly erects the scarer. Then he says:



U-mi-chang'-ka Sik'-a Ti-lin' in kad La'-god yad Ap'-lay Sik'-a o'-tot in lo-ko-lo'-ka nan fu-i'-mo.



Freely translated, this is —



Ti-lin' [the rice bird], you go away into the north country and the south country You, rat, you go into your hole.



Totolod

This ceremony, tot-o-lod', occurs on the day following ke'-eng, and it is also for the protection of the rice crop. Ong-i-yud' is the priest for both ceremonies.

The usual hog is killed, and then the priest ties up a bundle of palay straw the size of his arm, and walks to the south side of the pueblo "as though stalking deer in the tall grass." He suddenly and boldly throws the bundle southward, suggesting that the birds and rats follow in the same direction, and that all go together quickly.

Safosab

This ceremony is recorded in the chapter on "Agriculture" in the section on "Harvesting," page 103. It is simply referred to here in the place where it would logically appear if it were not so intimately connected with the harvesting that it could not be omitted in presenting that phase of agriculture.

Lislis

At the close of the rice harvest, at the beginning of the season Li'-pas, the lis-lis ceremony is widely celebrated in the Bontoc area. It consists, in Bontoc pueblo, of two parts. Each family cooks a chicken in the fireplace on the second floor of the dwelling. This part is called "cha-peng'." After the cha-peng' the public part of the ceremony occurs. It is called "fug-fug'-to," and is said to continue three days.

Fug-fug'-to in Bontoc is a man's rock fight between the men of Bontoc and Samoki. The battle is in the broad bed of the river between the two pueblos. The men go to the conflict armed with war shields, and they pelt each other with rocks as seriously as in actual war. There is a man now in Bontoc whose leg was broken in the conflict of 1901, and three of our four Igorot servant boys had scalp wounds received in lis-lis rock conflicts.

A river cuts in two the pueblo of Alap, and that pueblo is said to celebrate the harvest by a rock fight similar to that of Bontoc and Samoki.

It is said by Igorot that the Sadanga lis-lis is a conflict with runo (or reed) spears, which are warded off with the war shields.

It is claimed that in Sagada the public part of the ceremony consists of a mud fight in the sementeras, mud being thrown by each contending party.

Loskod

This ceremony occurs once each year at the time of planting camotes, in the period of Ba-li'-ling.

Som-kad' of ato Sigichan is the pueblo "priest" who performs the los-kod' ceremony. He kills a chicken or pig, and then petitions Lumawig as follows: "Lo-mos-kod'-kay to-ki'." This means, "May there be so many camotes that the ground will crack and burst open."

Okiad

Som-kad' of ato Sigichan performs the o-ki-ad' ceremony once each year during the time of planting the black beans, or ba-la'-tong, also in the period of Ba-li'-ling.

The petition addressed to Lumawig is said after a pig or chicken has been ceremonially killed; it runs as follows: "Ma-o'-yed si ba-la'-tong, Ma-o'-yed si fu'-tug, Ma-o'-yed nan i-pu-kao'." A free translation is, "May the beans grow rapidly; may the pigs grow rapidly; and may the people [the children] grow rapidly."

Kopus

Ko'-pus is the name given the three days of rest at the close of the period of Ba-li'-ling. They say there is no special ceremony for ko'-pus, but some time during the three days the pa'-tay ceremony is performed.

Ceremonies connected with climate

Fakil

The Fa-kil' ceremony for rain occurs four times each year, on four succeeding days, and is performed by four different priests. The ceremony is simple. There is the usual ceremonial pig killing by the priest, and each night preceding the ceremony all the people cry: "I-teng'-ao ta-ko nan fa-kil'." This is only an exclamation, meaning, "Rest day! We observe the ceremony for rain!" I was informed that the priest has no separate oral petition or ceremony, though it is probable that he has.



Kalob

Once or twice each year, or maybe once in two years, in January or February, a cold, driving rain pours itself on Bontoc from the north. It often continues for two or three days, and is a miserable storm to be out in.

If this storm continues three or four days, Le-yod', of ato Lowingan, performs the following ceremony in his dwelling: "Ma-kis-kis'-kay li-fo'-o min-chi-kang'-ka ay fat-a'-wa ta-a'-yu nan fa'-ki lo-lo'-ta." A very free translation of this is as follows: "You fogs, rise up rolling. Let us have good weather in all the world! All the people are very poor."

Following this ceremony Le-yod' goes to Chao'-wi, the site of Lumawig's former dwelling in the pueblo, shown in Pl. CLIII, and there he builds a large fire. It is claimed the fierce storm always ceases shortly after the ka-lob' is performed.

Chinamwi

Ang'-way of ato Somowan performs the chi-nam'-wi ceremony once or twice each year during the cold and fog of the period Sama, when the people are standing in the water-filled sementeras turning the soil, frequently working entirely naked.

Many times I have seen the people shake — arms, legs, jaw, and body — during those cold days, and admit that I was touched by the ceremony when I saw it.

A hog is killed and each household gives Ang'-way a manojo of palay. He pleads to Lumawig: "Tum-ke'-ka ay li-fo'-o ta-a-ye'-o nan in sa-ma'-mi." This prayer is: "No more cold and fog! Pity those working in the sementera!"

Ceremonies connected with head taking[35]

Kafokab

Ka-fo'-kab is the name of a ceremony performed as soon as a party of successful head-hunters returns home. The old man in charge at the fawi says: "Cha-kay'-yo fo'-so-mi ma-pay-ing'-an. Cha-kay'-mi in-ked-se'-ka-mi nan ka-nin'-mi to-kom-ke'-ka." This is an exultant boast — it is the crow of the winning cock. It runs as follows: "You, our enemies, we will always kill you! We are strong; the food we eat makes us strong!"

Changtu

There is a peculiar ceremony, called "chang'-tu," performed now and then when i'-chu, the small omen bird, visits the pueblo.

This ceremony is held before each dwelling and each pabafunan in the pueblo. A chicken is killed, and usually both pork and chicken are eaten. The man performing the Chang'-tu says:

"Sik'-a tan-ang'-a sik'-a lu'-fub ad Sa-dang'-a nan ay-yam' Sik'-a ta-lo'-lo ad La'-god nan ay-yam' Sik'-a ta-lo'-lo ye'-mod La'-god nan fa-no wat'-mo yad Ap'-lay."

This speech is a petition running as follows:

"You, the anito of a person beheaded by Bontoc, and you, the anito of a person who died in a dwelling, you all go to the pueblo of Sadanga [that is, you destructive spirits, do not visit Bontoc; but we suggest that you carry your mischief to the pueblo of Sadanga, an enemy of ours]. You, the anito of a Bontoc person beheaded by some other pueblo, you go into the north country, and you, the anito of a Bontoc person beheaded by some other pueblo, you carry the palay-straw torch into the north country and the south country [that is, friendly anito, once our fellow-citizens, burn the dwellings of our enemies both north and south of us]."

In this petition the purpose of the Chang'-tu is clearly defined. The faithful i'-chu has warned the pueblo that an anito, perhaps an enemy, perhaps a former friend, threatens the pueblo; and the people seek to avert the calamity by making feasts — every dwelling preparing a feast. Each household then calls the names of the classes of malignant anito which destroy life and property, and suggests to them that they spend their fury elsewhere.

Ceremony connected with ato

Young men sometimes change their membership from one a'-to to another. It is said that old men never do. There is a ceremony of adoption into a new a'-to when a change is made; it is called "pu-ke'" or "pal-ug-peg'." At the time of the ceremony a feast is made. and some old man welcomes the new member as follows:

If you die first, you must look out for us, since we wish to live long [that is, your spirit must protect us against destructive spirits], do not let other pueblos take our heads. If you do not take this care, your spirit will find no food when it comes to the a'-to, because the a'-to will be empty — we will all be dead.



PART 9

Mental Life

The Igorot does not know many things in common with enlightened men, and yet one constantly marvels at his practical knowledge. Tylor says primitive man has "rude, shrewd sense." The Igorot has more — he has practical wisdom.

Actual knowledge

Concerning cosmology, the Igorot believes Lumawig gave the earth and all things connected with it. Lumawig makes it rain and storm, gives day and night, heat and cold. The earth is "just as you see it." It ceases somewhere a short distance beyond the most distant place an Igorot has visited. He does not know how it is supported. "Why should it fall?" he asks. "A pot on the earth does not fall." Above is chayya, the sky — the Igorot does not know or attempt to say what it is. It is up above the earth and extends beyond and below the visible horizon and the limit of the earth. The Igorot does not know how it remains there, and a man once interrupted me to ask why it did not fall down below the earth at its limit.

"Below us," an old Igorot told me, "is just bones."

The sun is a man called "Chal-chal'." The moon is a woman named "Ka-bi-gat'." "Once the moon was also a sun, and then it was always day; but Lumawig made a moon of the woman, and since then there is day and night, which is best."

There are two kinds of stars. "Fat-ta-ka'-kan" is the name of large stars and "tuk-fi'-fi" is the name of small stars. The stars are all men, and they wear white coats. Once they came down to Bontoc pueblo and ate sugar cane, but on being discovered they all escaped again to chayya.

Thunder is a gigantic wild boar crying for rain. A Bontoc man was once killed by Ki-cho', the thunder. The unfortunate man was ripped open from his legs to his head, just as a man is ripped and torn by the wild boar of the mountains. The lightning, called "Yup-yup," is also a hog, and always accompanies Ki-cho'.

Lumawig superintends the rains. Li-fo'-o are the rain clouds — they are smoke. "At night Lumawig has the li-fo'-o come down to the river and get water. Before morning they have carried up a great deal of water; and then they let it come down as rain."

Earthquakes are caused by Lumawig. He places both hands on the edge of the earth and quickly pushes it back and forth. They do not know why he does it.

Regarding man himself the Igorot knows little. He says Lumawig gave man and all man's functionings. He does not know the functioning of blood, brain, stomach, or any other of the primary organs of the body. He says the bladder of men and animals is for holding the water they drink. He knows that a man begets his child and that a woman's breasts are for supplying the infant food, but these two functionings are practically all the facts he knows or even thinks he knows about his body.

Mensuration

Under this title are considered all forms of measurement used by the Igorot.

Numbers

The most common method of enumerating is that of the finger count. The usual method is to count the fingers, beginning with the little finger of the right hand, in succession touching each finger with the forefinger of the other hand. The count of the thumb, li'-ma, five, is one of the words for hand. The sixth count begins with the little finger of the left hand, and the tenth reaches the thumb. The eleventh count begins with the little finger of the right hand again, and so the count continues. The Igorot system is evidently decimal. One man, however, invariably recorded his eleventh count on his toes, from which he returned to the little finger of his right hand for the twenty-first count.

A common method of enumerating is one in which the record is kept with small pebbles placed together one after another on the ground.

Another method in frequent use preserves the record in the number of sections of a slender twig which is bent or broken half across for each count.

When an Igorot works for an American he records each day by a notch in a small stick. A very neat record for the month was made by one of our servants who prepared a three-sided stick less than 2 inches long. Day by day he cut notches in this stick, ten on each edge.

When a record is wanted for a long time — as when one man loans another money for a year or more — he ties a knot in a string for each peso loaned.

The Igorot subtracts by addition. He counts forward in the total of fingers or pebbles the number he wishes to subtract, and then he again counts the remainder forward.



Lineal measure

The distance between the tips of the thumb and middle finger extended and opposed is the shortest linear measure used by the Igorot, although he may measure by eye with more detail and exactness, as when he notes half the above distance. This span measure is called "chang'-an" or "i'-sa chang'-an," "chu'-wa chang'-an," etc.

Chi-pa' is the measure between the tips of the two middle fingers when the arms are extended full length in opposite directions. Chi-wan' si chi-pa' is half the above measure, or from the tip of the middle finger of one hand, arm extended from side of body, to the sternum.

These three measures are most used in handling timbers and boards in the construction of buildings.

Cloth for breechcloths is measured by the length of the forearm, being wound about the elbow and through the hand, quite as one coils up a rope.

Long distances in the mountains or on the trail are measured by the length of time necessary to walk them, and the length of time is told by pointing to the place of the sun in the heavens at the hour of departure and arrival.

Rice sementeras are measured by the number of cargoes of palay they produce. Besides this relatively exact measure, sementeras producing up to five cargoes are called "small," pay-yo' ay fa-nig'; and those producing more than five are said to be "large," pay-yo' chuk-chuk'-wag.

Measurement of animals

The idea of the size of a carabao, and at the same time a crude estimate of its age and value, is conveyed by representing on the arm the length of the animal's horns.

The size of a hog and, as with the carabao, an estimate of its value is shown by representing the size of the girth of the animal by clasping the hands around one's leg. For instance, a small pig is represented by the size of the speaker's ankle, as he clasps both hands around it; a larger one is the size of his calf; a still larger one is the size of a man's thigh; and one still larger is represented by the thigh and calf together, the calf being bent tightly against the upper leg. To represent a still larger hog, the two hands circle the calf and thigh, but at some distance from them.

The Bontoc Igorot has no system of liquid or dry measure, nor has he any system of weight.

The calendar

The Igorot has no mechanical record of time or events, save as he sometimes cuts notches in a stick to mark the flight of days. He is apt, however, in memorizing the names of ancestors, holding them for half a dozen generations, but he keeps no record of age, and has no adequate conception of such a period as twenty years. He has no conception of a cycle of time greater than one year, and, in fact, it is the rare man who thinks in terms of a year. When one does he speaks of the past year as tin-mo-win', or i-san' pa-na'-ma.

Prominent Igorot have insisted that a year has only eight moons, and other equally sane and respected men say it has one hundred. But among the old men, who are the wisdom of the people, there are those who know and say it has thirteen moons.

They have noted and named eight phases of the moon, namely: The one-quarter waxing moon, called "fis-ka'-na;" the two-quarters waxing moon, "ma-no'-wa," or "ma-lang'-ad;" the three-quarters waxing moon, "kat-no-wa'-na" or "nap-no';" the full moon, "fit-fi-tay'-eg;" the three-quarters waning moon, "ka-tol-pa-ka'-na" or "ma-til-pa'-kan;" the two-quarters waning moon, "ki-sul-fi-ka'-na;" the one-quarter waning moon, sig-na'-a-na" or "ka-fa-ni-ka'-na;" and the period following the last, when there is but a faint rim of light, is called "li'-meng" or "ma-a-mas'."

FIGURE 9

Recognized phases of the moon.

Fis-ka'-na. Ma-no'-wa. Kat-no-wa'-na. Fit-fi-tay'-eg. Ka-tol-pa-ka'-na. Ki-sul-fi-ka'-na. Sig-na'-a-na. Li'-meng.

However, the Igorot do seldom count time by the phases of the moon, and the only solar period of time they know is that of the day. Their word for day is the same as for sun, a-qu'. They indicate the time of day by pointing to the sky, indicating the position the sun occupied when a particular event occurred.

There are two seasons in a year. One is Cha-kon', having five moons, and the other is Ka-sip', having eight moons. The seasons do not mark the wet and dry periods, as might be expected in a country having such periods. Cha-kon' is the season of rice or "palay" growth and harvest, and Ka-sip' is the remainder of the year. These two seasons, and the recognition that there are thirteen moons in one year, and that day follows night, are the only natural divisions of time in the Igorot calendar.

He has made an artificial calendar differing somewhat in all pueblos in name and number and length of periods. In all these calendars the several periods bear the names of the characteristic industrial occupations which follow one another successively each year. Eight of these periods make up the calendar of Bontoc pueblo, and seven of them have to do with the rice industry. Each period receives its name from that industry which characterizes its beginning, and it retains this name until the beginning of the next period, although the industry which characterized it may have ceased some time before.

I-na-na' is the first period of the year, and the first period of the season Cha-kon'. It is the period, as they say, of no more work in the rice sementeras — that is, practically all fields are prepared and transplanted. It began in 1903 on February 11. It lasts about three months, continuing until the time of the first harvest of the rice or "palay" crop in May; in 1903 this was until May 2. This period is not a period of "no work" — it has many and varied labors.

The second period is La'-tub. It is that of the first harvests, and lasts some four weeks, ending about June 1.

Cho'-ok is the third period. It is the time when the bulk of the palay is harvested. It occupies about four weeks, running over in 1903 two days in July.

Li'-pas is the fourth period. It is that of "no more palay harvest," and lasts for about ten or fifteen days, ending probably about July 15. This is the last period of the season Cha-kon'.

The fifth period is Ba-li'-ling. It is the first period of the season Ka-sip'. It takes its name from the general planting of camotes, and is the only one of the calendar periods not named from the rice industry. It continues about six weeks, or until near the 1st of September.

Sa-gan-ma' is the sixth period. It is the time when the sementeras to be used as seed beds for rice are put in condition, the earth being turned three different times. It lasts about two months. November 15, 1902, the seed rice was just peeping from the kernels in the beds of Bontoc and Sagada, and the seed is sown immediately after the third turning of the earth, which thus ended early in November.

Pa-chog' is the seventh period of the annual calendar. It is the period of seed sowing, and begins about November 10. Although the seed sowing does not last many days, the period Pa-chog' continues five or six weeks.

Sa'-ma is the last period of the calendar. It is the period in which the rice sementeras are prepared for receiving the young plants and in which these seedlings are transplanted from the seed beds. The last Sa'-ma was near seven weeks' duration. It began about December 20, 1902, and ended February 10, 1903. Sa'-ma is the last period of the season Ka-sip', and the last of the year.

The Igorot often says that a certain thing occurred in La'-tub, or will occur in Ba-li'-ling, so these periods of the calendar are held in mind as the civilized man thinks of events in time as occurring in some particular month.

The Igorot have a tradition that formerly the moon was also a sun, and at that time it was always day. Lumawig told the moon to be "moon," and then there was night. Such a change was necessary, they say, so the people would know when to work — that is, when was the right time, the right moon, to take up a particular kind of labor.

Folk tales

The paucity of the pure mental life of the Igorot is nowhere more clearly shown than in the scarcity of folk tales.

I group here seven tales which are quite commonly known among the people of Bontoc. The second, third, fourth, and fifth are frequently related by the parents to their children, and I heard all of them the first time from boys about a dozen years old. I believe these tales are nearly all the pure fiction the Igorot has created and perpetuated from generation to generation, except the Lumawig stories.

The Igorot story-tellers, with one or two exceptions, present the bare facts in a colorless and lifeless manner. I have, therefore, taken the liberty of adding slightly to the tales by giving them some local coloring, but I have neither added to nor detracted from the facts related.

The sun man and moon woman; or, origin of head-hunting

The Moon, a woman called "Ka-bi-gat'," was one day making a large copper cooking pot. The copper was soft and plastic like potter's clay. Ka-bi-gat' held the heavy sagging pot on her knees and leaned the hardened rim against her naked breasts. As she squatted there — turning, patting, shaping, the huge vessel — a son of the man Chal-chal', the Sun, came to watch her. This is what he saw: The Moon dipped her paddle, called "pip-i'," in the water, and rubbed it dripping over a smooth, rounded stone, an agate with ribbons of colors wound about in it. Then she stretched one long arm inside the pot as far as she could. "Tub, tub, tub," said the ribbons of colors as Ka-bi-gat' pounded up against the molten copper with the stone in her extended hand. "Slip, slip, slip, slip," quickly answered pip-i', because the Moon was spanking back the many little rounded domes which the stone bulged forth on the outer surface of the vessel. Thus the huge bowl grew larger, more symmetrical, and smooth.

Suddenly the Moon looked up and saw the boy intently watching the swelling pot and the rapid playing of the paddle. Instantly the Moon struck him, cutting off his head.

Chal-chal' was not there. He did not see it, but he knew Ka-bi-gat' cut off his son's head by striking with her pip-i'.

He hastened to the spot, picked the lad up, and put his head where it belonged — and the boy was alive.

Then the Sun said to the Moon:

"See, because you cut off my son's head, the people of the Earth are cutting off each other's heads, and will do so hereafter."

"And it is so," the story-tellers continue; "they do cut off each other's heads."

Origin of coling, the serpent eagle[36]

A man and woman had two boys. Every day the mother sent them into the mountains for wood to cook her food. Each morning as she sent them out she complained about the last wood they brought home.

One day they brought tree limbs; the mother complained, saying:

"This wood is bad. It smokes so much that I can not see, and soon I shall be blind." And then she added, as was her custom:

"If you do not work well, you can have only food for dogs and pigs."

That day, as usual, the boys had in their topil for dinner only boiled camote vines, such as the hogs eat, and a small allowance of rice, just as much as a dog is fed. At night the boys brought some very good wood — wood of the pitch-pine tree. In the morning the mother complained that such wood blackened the house. She gave them pig food in their topil, saying:

"Pig food is good enough for you because you do not work well."

That night each boy brought in a large bundle of runo. The mother was angry, and scolded, saying:

"This is not good wood; it leaves too many ashes and it dirties the house."

In the morning she gave them dog food for dinner, and the boys again went away to the mountains. They were now very thin and poor because they had no meat to eat. By and by the older one said:

"You wait here while I climb up this tree and cut off some branches." So he climbed the tree, and presently called down:

"Here is some wood" — and the bones of an arm dropped to the ground.

"Oh, oh," exclaimed the younger brother, "it is your arm!"

Again the older boy called, "Here is some more wood" — and the bones of his other arm fell at the foot of the tree.

Again he called, and the bones of a leg dropped; then his other leg fell. The next time he called, down came the right half of his ribs; and then, next, the left half of his ribs; and immediately thereafter his spinal column. Then he called again, and down fell his hair.

The last time he called, "Here is some wood," his skull dropped on the earth under the tree.

"Here, take those things home," said he. "Tell the woman that this is her wood; she only wanted my bones."

"But there is no one to go with me down the mountains," said the younger boy.

"Yes; I will go with you, brother," quickly came the answer from the tree top.

So the boy tied up his bundle, and, putting it on his shoulder, started for the pueblo. As he did so the other — he was now Co-ling' — soared from the tree top, always flying directly above the boy.

When the younger brother reached home he put his bundle down, and said to the woman:

"Here is the wood you wanted."

The woman and the husband, frightened, ran out of the house; they heard something in the air above them.

"Qu-iu'-kok! qu-iu'-kok! qu-iu'-kok!" said Co-ling', as he circled around and around above the house. "Qu-iu'-kok! qu-iu'-kok!" he screamed, "now camotes and palay are your son. I do not need your food any longer."

Origin of tilin, the ricebird[37]

As the mother was pounding out rice to cook for supper, her little girl said:

"Give me some mo'-ting to eat."

"No," answered the mother, "mo'-ting is not good to eat; wait until it is cooked."

"No, I want to eat mo'-ting," said the little girl, and for a long time she kept asking her mother for raw rice.

At last her mother interrupted, "It is bad to talk so much."

The rice was then all pounded out. The mother winnowed it clean, and put it in her basket, covering it up with the winnowing tray. She placed an empty olla on her head and went to the spring for water.

The anxious little girl reached quickly for the basket to get some rice, but the tray slipped from her grasp and fell, covering her beneath it in the basket.

The mother returned with the water to cook supper. She heard a bird crying, "King! king! nik! nik! nik!" When the woman uncovered the basket, Tilin, the little brown ricebird, flew away, calling:

"Good-bye, mother; good-bye, mother; you would not give me mo'-ting!"

Origin of kaag, the monkey

The palay was in the milk and maturing rapidly. Many kinds of birds that knew how delicious juicy palay is were on hand to get their share, so the boys were sent to stay all day in the sementeras to frighten these little robbers away.

Every day a father sent out his two boys to watch his palay in a narrow gash in the mountain; and every day they carried their small basket full of cooked rice, white and delicious, but their mother put no meat in the basket.

Finally one of the boys said:

"It is bad not to have meat to eat; every day we have only rice."

"Yes, it is bad," said his brother. "We can not keep fat without meat; we are getting poor and thin, and pretty soon we shall die."

"That is true," answered the other boy; "pretty soon we shall die. I believe I shall be ka'-ag."

And during the day thick hair came on this boy's arms; and then he became hairy all over; and then it was so — he was ka'-ag, and he vanished in the mountains.

Then soon the other boy was ka'-ag, too. At night he went home and told the father:

"Your boy is ka'-ag; he is in the mountains."

The boy ran out of the house quickly. The father went to the mountains to get his boy, but ka'-ag ran up a tall tree; at the foot of the tree was a pile of bones. The father called his son, and ka'-ag came down the tree, and, as the father went toward him, ka'-ag stood up clawing and striking at the man with his hands, and breathing a rough throat cry like this:

"Haa! haa! haa!"

Then the man ran home crying, and he never got his boys.

Pretty soon there was a-sa'-wan nan ka'-ag[38] with a babe. Then there were many little children; and then, pretty soon, the mountains were full of monkeys.

Origin of gayyang, the crow, and fanias, the large lizard

There were two young men who were the very greatest of friends.

One tattooed the other beautifully. He tattooed his arms and his legs, his breast and his belly, and also his back and face. He marked him beautifully all over, and he rubbed soot from the bottom of an olla into the marks, and he was then very beautiful.

When the tattooer finished his work he turned to his friend, and said: "Now you tattoo me beautifully, too."

So the young men scraped together a great pile of black, greasy soot from pitch-pine wood; and before the other knew what the tattooed one was doing he rubbed soot over him from finger tip to finger tip. Then the black one asked:

"Why do you tattoo me so badly?"

Without waiting for an answer they began a terrible combat. When, suddenly, the tattooed one was a large lizard, fa-ni'-as,[39] and he ran away and hid in the tall grass; and the sooty black one was gay-yang, the crow,[40] and he flew away and up over Bontoc, because he was ashamed to enter the pueblo after quarreling with his old friend.

Owug, the snake

The old men say that a man of Mayinit came to live in Bontoc, as he had married a Bontoc woman and she wished to live in her own town.

After a while the man died. His friends came to the funeral, and a snake, o-wug', also came. When the people wept, o-wug' cried also. When they put the dead man in the grave, and when they stood there looking, o-wug' came to the grave and looked upon the man, and then went away.

Later, when the friends observed the death ceremony, o-wug' also came.

"O-wug' thus showed himself to be a friend and companion of the Igorot. Sometime in the past he was an Igorot, but we have not heard," the old men say, "when or how he was o-wug'."

"We never kill o-wug'; he is our friend. If he crosses our path on a journey, we stop and talk. If he crosses our path three or four times, we return home, because, if we continue our journey then, some of us will die. O-wug' thus comes to tell us not to proceed; he knows the bad anito on every trail."

Who took my father's head?

The Bontoc people have another folk tale regarding head taking. In it Lumawig, their god, taught them how to discover which pueblo had taken the head of one of their members. They repeat this story as a ceremony in the pabafunan after every head lost, though almost always they know what pueblo took it. It is as follows:

"A very great time ago a man and woman had two sons. Far up in the mountains they owned some garden patches. One day they told the boys to go and see whether the stone wall about the garden needed repair; but the boys said they did not wish to go, so the father went alone. As he did not return at nightfall, his sons started into the mountains to find him. They bound together two small bunches of runo for torches to light up the steep, rough, twisting trail. One torch was burning when they went out, and they carried the other to light them home again. Nowhere along the trail did they find their father; he had not been injured in the path, nor could they find where he had fallen over a cliff. So they passed on to the garden; there they found their father's headless body. They searched for blood in the bushes and grass, but they found nothing — no blood, no enemies' tracks.

"They carried the strange corpse down the mountain trail to their home in Bontoc. Then they hastened to the pabafunan, and there they told the men what had befallen their father. The old men counseled together, and at last one of them said: 'Lumawig told the old men of the past, so the old men last dead told me, that should any son find his father beheaded, he should do this: He should ask, "Who took my father's head? Did Tukukan take it? Did Sakasakan take it?" ' and Lumawig said, 'He shall know who took his father's head.'

"So the boys took a basket, the fangao, to represent Lumawig, and stuck it full of chicken feathers. Before the fangao they placed a small cup of basi. Then squatting in front with the cup at their feet they put a small piece of pork on a stick and held it over the cup. 'Who took my father's head? — did Tukukan?' they asked. But the pork and the cup and the basket all remained still. 'Did Sakasakan?' asked the boys all was as before. They went over a list of towns at enmity with Bontoc, but there was no answer given them. At last they asked, 'Did the Moon?' — but still there was no answer. 'Did the Sun?' the boys asked, and suddenly the piece of pork slid from the stick into the basi. And this was the way Lumawig had said a person should know who took his father's head.

"The Sun, then, was the guilty person. The two boys took some dogs and hastened to the mountains where their father was killed. There the dogs took up the scent of the enemy, and followed it in a straight line to a very large spring where the water boiled up, as at Mayinit where the salt springs are. The scent passed into this bubbling, tumbling water, but the dogs could not get down. When the dogs returned to land the elder brother tried to enter, but he failed also. Then the younger brother tried to get down; he succeeded in going beneath the water, and there he saw the head of his father, and young men in a circle were dancing around it — they were the children of the Sun. The brother struck off the head of one of these young men, caught up his father's head, and, with the two heads, escaped. When he reached his elder brother the two hastened home to their pueblo."



PART 10

Language

Introduction

The language of the Bontoc Igorot is sufficiently distinct from all others to be classed as a separate dialect. However, it is originally from a parent stock which to-day survives more or less noticeably over probably a much larger part of the surface of the earth than the tongue of any other primitive people.

The language of every group of primitive people in the Philippine Archipelago, except the Negrito, is from that same old tongue. Mr. Homer B. Hulbert[41] has recorded vocabularies of ten groups of people in Formosa; and those vocabularies show that the people belong to the same great linguistic family as the Bontoc Igorot. Mr. Hulbert believes that the language of Korea is originally of the same stock as that of Formosa. In concluding his article he says:

We find therefore that out of a vocabulary of fifty words there are fifteen in which a distinct similarity [between Korean and Formosan] can be traced, and in not a few of the fifteen the similarity amounts to practical identity.

The Malay language of Malay Peninsula, Java, and Sumatra is from the same stock language. So are many, perhaps all, the languages of Borneo, Celebes, and New Zealand. This same primitive tongue is spread across the Pacific and shows unmistakably in Fiji, New Hebrides, Samoa, and Hawaii. It is also found in Madagascar.

Alphabet

The Bontoc man has not begun even the simplest form of permanent mechanical record in the line of a written language, and no vocabulary of the language has before been published.

The following alphabet was used in writing Bontoc words in this study:

A as in FAR; Spanish RAMO A is in LAW; as O in French OR AY as in AI in AISLE; Spanish HAY AO as OU in OUT; as AU in Spanish AUTO B as in BAD; Spanish BAJAR CH as in CHECK; Spanish CHICO D as in DOG; Spanish DAR E as in THEY; Spanish HALLE E as in THEN; Spanish COMEN F as in FIGHT; Spanish FIRMAR G as in GO; Spanish GOZAR H as in HE; Tagalog BAHAY I as in PIQUE; Spanish HIJO I as in PICK K as in KEEN L as in LAMB; Spanish LENTE M as in MAN; Spanish MENOS N as in NOW; Spanish JABON NG as in FINGER; Spanish LENGUA O as in NOTE; Spanish NOSOTROS OI as in BOIL P as in POOR; Spanish PERO Q as CH in German ICH S as in SAUCE; Spanish SORDO SH as in SHALL; as CH in French CHARMER T as in TOUCH; Spanish TOMAR U as in RULE; Spanish UNO U as in BUT U as in German KUHL V as in VALVE; in Spanish VOLVER W as in WILL; nearly as OU in French OUI Y as in YOU; Spanish YA

The sounds which I have represented by the unmarked vowels A, E, I, O, and U, Swettenham and Clifford in their Malay Dictionary represent by the vowels with a circumflex accent. The sound which I have indicated by U they indicate by A. Other variations will be noted.

The sound represented by A, it must be noted, has not always the same force or quantity, depending on an open or closed syllable and the position of the vowel in the word.

So far as I know there is no R sound in the Bontoc Igorot language. The word "Igorot" when used by the Bontoc man is pronounced Igolot. In an article on "The Chamorro language of Guam"[42] it is noted that in that language there was originally no R sound but that in modern times many words formerly pronounced by an L sound now have that letter replaced by R.



Linguistic inconsistencies

The language of the Bontoc area is not stable, but is greatly shifting. In pueblos only a few hours apart there are not only variations in pronunciation but in some cases entirely different words are used, and in a single pueblo there is great inconsistency in pronunciation.

It is often impossible to determine the exact sound of vowels, even in going over common words a score of times with as many people. The accent seems very shifting and it is often difficult to tell where it belongs.

Several initial consonants of words and syllables are commonly interchanged, even by the same speaker if he uses a word more than once during a conversation. That this fickleness is a permanency in the language rather than the result of the present building of new words is proved by ato names, words in use for many years — probably many hundred years.

One of the most frequent interchanges is that of B and F. This is shown in the following ato names: Bu-yay'-yeng or Fu-yay'-yeng; Ba-tay'-yan or Fa-tay'-yan; Bi'-lig or Fi'-lig; and Long-boi' or Long-foi'. It is also shown in two other words where one would naturally expect to find permanency — the names of the men's public buildings in the ato, namely, ba'-wi or fa'-wi, and pa-ba-bu'-nan or pa-ba-fu'-nan. Other common illustrations are found in the words ba-to or fa-to (stone) and ba-bay'-i or fa-fay'-i (woman).