Part 14

The younger, whose name was Fukan, answered:

“We are gathering beans, but it takes a long time to get enough, for my sister wants to go bathing all the time.”

Then Lumawig said to the older sister:

“Hand me a single pod of the beans.”

And when she had given it to him, he shelled it into the basket and immediately the basket was full. The younger sister laughed at this, and Lumawig said to her:

“Give me another pod and another basket.”

She did so, and when he had shelled the pod, that basket was full also. Then he said to the younger sister:

“Go home and get three more baskets.”

She went home, but when she asked for three more baskets her mother said that the beans were few and she could not need so many. Then Fukan told her of the young man who could fill a basket from one pod of beans, and the father, who heard her story, said:

“Go, bring the young man here, for I think he must be a god.”

So Fukan took the three baskets back to Lumawig, and when he had filled them as he did the other two, he helped the girls carry them to the house. As they reached their home, he stopped outside to cool himself, but the father called to him, and he went into the house and asked for some water. The father brought him a cocoanut shell full, and before drinking Lumawig looked at it and said:

“If I stay here with you, I shall become very strong.”

The next morning Lumawig asked to see their chickens, and when they opened the chicken-coop out came a hen and many little chicks.

“Are these all of your chickens?” asked Lumawig; and the father assured him that they were all. He then bade them bring rice meal that he might feed them, and as the chickens ate they all grew rapidly till they were cocks and hens.

Next Lumawig asked how many pigs they had, and the father replied that they had one with some little ones. Then Lumawig bade them fill a pail with sweet potato leaves, and he fed the pigs. And as they ate they also grew to full size.

The father was so pleased with all these things that he offered his elder daughter to Lumawig for a wife. But the Great Spirit said he preferred to marry the younger, and so it was arranged. Now when his brother-in-law learned that Lumawig desired a feast at his wedding, he was very angry and said:

“Where would you get food for your wedding feast? There is no rice, nor beef, nor pork, nor chicken.”

But Lumawig only answered, “I shall provide our wedding feast.”

In the morning they all set out for Lanao, for Lumawig did not care to stay any longer in the house with his brother-in-law. As soon as they arrived he sent out for some tree trunks, but the trees that the people brought in were so small that Lumawig himself went to the forest and cut two large pine trees which he hurled to Lanao.

When the people had built a fire of the trees he commanded them to bring ten kettles filled with water. Soon the water was boiling hot and the brother-in-law laughed and said:

“Where is your rice? You have the boiling water, but you do not seem to think of the rice.”

In answer to this Lumawig took a small basket of rice and passed it over five kettles and they were full. Then he called, “Yish-tjau,” and some deer came running out of the forest. These were not what he wanted, however, so he called again and some pigs came. He told the people that they were each to catch one, and for his brother-in-law he selected the largest and best.

They all set out in pursuit of the pigs and the others quickly caught theirs, but though the brother-in-law chased his until he was very tired and hot he could not catch it. Lumawig laughed at him and said:

“You chase that pig until he is thin and still you cannot catch it, though all the others have theirs.”

Thereupon he grasped the hind legs of the pig and lifted it. All the people laughed and the brother-in-law said:

“Of course you can catch it, because I chased it until it was tired.”

Lumawig then handed it to him, and said: “Here, you carry it.” But no sooner had the brother-in-law put it over his shoulder than it cut loose and ran away.

“Why did you let it go?” asked Lumawig. “Do you care nothing for it, even after I caught it for you? Catch it again and bring it here.”

So the brother-in-law started out again, and he chased it up stream and down, but he could not catch it. Finally Lumawig reached down and picked up the pig and carried it to the place where the others were cooking.

After they had all eaten and drunk and made their offerings to the spirits, Lumawig said:

“Come, let us go to the mountain to consult the omen concerning the northern tribes.”

So they consulted the omen, but it was not favorable, and they were starting home when the brother-in-law asked Lumawig to create some water, as the people were hot and thirsty.

“Why do you not create water, Lumawig?” he repeated, as Lumawig paid no attention to him. “You care nothing that the people are thirsty and in need of drink.”

Then they quarreled and were very angry and Lumawig said to the people, “Let us sit down and rest.”

While they rested, Lumawig struck the rock with his spear, and water came out. The brother-in-law jumped up to get a drink first, but Lumawig held him back, and said he must be the last to drink. So they all drank, and when they had finished the brother-in-law stepped up, but Lumawig gave him a push which sent him into the rock, and water came from his body.

“You must stay there,” said Lumawig, “because you have troubled me a great deal.” And they went home, leaving him in the rock.

Some time after this Lumawig decided to go back to the sky to live, but before he went he took care that his wife should have a home. He made a coffin of wood and placed her in it with a dog at her feet and a cock at her head. And as he set it floating on the water, he told it not to stop until it reached Tinglayen. Then, if the foot struck first, the dog should bark; and if the head end was the first to strike, the cock should crow. So it floated away, on and on, until it came to Tinglayen.

Now a widower was sharpening his axe on the bank of the river, and when he saw the coffin stop, he went to fish it out of the water. On the shore he started to open it, but Fukan cried out, “Do not drive a wedge, for I am here.” So the widower opened it carefully and took Fukan up to the town, and then, as he had no wife of his own, he married her.

IN UNION IS STRENGTH

A lion was wandering over the desert, seeking water. It was very hot, and the sun had dried so many pools that it was a long time before he found a well where he could assuage his thirst. But this he did at last, although the water in it was not at all fresh. However, he was too thirsty to care much whether it was stale or not.

He reached down to drink, and then his ears were assailed with the buzzing of mosquitoes, who said to him:

“Lion, leave us in peace. We did not ask you to come here and drink up our home, and you are not welcome.”

This surprised the Lion, who was not used to being spoken to in such an impertinent manner. He roared and said: “Do you know whom you are speaking to? I am the Lion, the King of all beasts. What affair of yours is it what I do? Leave me at once, or I will kill you all.”

But the Mosquitoes said: “You are one, and we are many. For generations has this old well been our home, and it is not for you to say that we must go. Take our advice and seek another well, or trouble will visit you.”

“You insignificant little creatures, how dare you address me in such manner,” roared the Lion. “Why, in one minute I can swallow you all and you will make only the very smallest part of a mouthful for me. Know that when I speak all beasts of the forest and the wilderness bow before me, and tremble. Now fly away, all of you, for I am going to drink.”

“We know how great is your renown,” said the Mosquitoes, “but we do not fear you. If you wish to fight us we are very willing to have it so, but we will not allow you to destroy our home.”

The Lion was now enraged more than he had ever been before. Such language to him, the King, meant that destruction must be meted out to those who dared to use it. He roared again, and made ready to kill the foolish Mosquitoes.

But he found that he had undertaken no easy task. The Mosquitoes flew into his ears, his eyes, his nose and his mouth. They stung him all over his body, and soon he knew that he was conquered. He shook himself; he rolled over and over on the ground, but he could not drive them away.

Then he jumped high into the air, and when he came down his head and fore feet went into the well, and he was unable to release himself.

And so he died, thus teaching a lesson to those who are so proud of their own might that they all think all others must bow down to them. The water in the well was the home of the Mosquitoes, and he had no right to deprive them of it. Had he made a request for water with gentle words, it would without doubt have been given to him, but in the foolishness of his pride and anger he demanded that which was not his. Gentleness, and consideration for others will bring their reward.

THE STORY OF BANTUGAN

Before the Spaniards occupied the island of Mindanao, there lived in the valley of the Rio Grande a very strong man, Bantugan, whose father was the brother of the earthquake and thunder.

Now the Sultan of the Island had a beautiful daughter whom Bantugan wished to marry, but the home of the Sultan was far off, and whoever went to carry Bantugan’s proposal would have a long and hazardous journey. All the head men consulted together regarding who should be sent, and at last it was decided that Bantugan’s own son, Balatama, was the one to go. Balatama was young but he was strong and brave, and when the arms of his father were given him to wear on the long journey his heart swelled with pride. More than once on the way, however, his courage was tried, and only the thought of his brave father gave him strength to proceed.

Once he came to a wooden fence which surrounded a stone in the form of a man, and as it was directly in his path he drew his fighting knife to cut down the fence. Immediately the air became as black as night and stones rained down as large as houses. This made Balatama cry, but he protected himself with his father’s shield and prayed, calling on the winds from the homeland until they came and cleared the air again.

Thereupon Balatama encountered a great snake in the road, and it inquired his errand. When told, the snake said:

“You cannot go on, for I am guard of this road and no one can pass.”

The animal made a move to seize him, but with one stroke of his fighting knife the boy cut the snake into two pieces, one of which he threw into the sea and the other into the mountains.

After many days the weary lad came to a high rock in the road, which glistened in the sunlight. From the top he could look down into the city for which he was bound. It was a splendid place with ten harbors. Standing out from the other palaces was one of crystal and another of pure gold. Encouraged by this sight he went on, but though it seemed only a short distance, it was some time before he at last stood at the gate of the town.

It was not long after this, however, before Balatama had made known his errand to the Sultan, and that monarch, turning to his courtiers, said:

“You, my friends, decide whether or not I shall give the hand of my daughter to Bantugan in marriage.”

The courtiers slowly shook their heads and began to offer objections.

Said one, “I do not see how Bantugan can marry the Sultan’s daughter because the first gift must be a figure of a man or woman in pure gold.”

“Well,” said the son of Bantugan, “I am here to learn what you want and to say whether or not it can be given.”

Then a second man spoke: “You must give a great yard with a floor of gold, which must be three feet thick.”

“All this can be given,” answered the boy.

And the sister of the Princess said: “The gifts must be as many as the blades of grass in our city.”

“It shall be granted,” said Balatama.

“You must give a bridge built of stone to cross the great river,” said one.

And another: “A ship of stone you must give, and you must change into gold all the cocoanuts and leaves in the Sultan’s grove.”

“All this can be done,” said Balatama. “My uncles will give all save the statue of gold, and that I shall give myself. But first I must go to my father’s town to secure it.”

At this they were angry and declared that he had made sport of them and unless he produced the statue at once they would kill him.

“If I give you the statue now,” said he, “there will come dreadful storms, rain, and darkness.”

But they only laughed at him and insisted on having the statue, so he reached into his helmet and drew it forth.

Immediately the earth began to quake. A great storm arose, and stones as large as houses rained until the Sultan called to Balatama to put back the statue lest they all be killed.

“You would not believe what I told you,” said the boy; “and now I am going to let the storm continue.”

But the Sultan begged him and promised that Bantugan might marry his daughter with no other gifts at all save the statue of gold. Balatama put back the statue into his helmet, and the air became calm again to the great relief of the Sultan and his courtiers. Then Balatama prepared to return home, promising that Bantugan would come in three months for the wedding.

All went well with the boy on the way home until he came to the fence surrounding the stone in the form of a man, and there he was detained and compelled to remain four months.

Now about this time a Spanish general heard that Bantugan was preparing to marry the Sultan’s daughter, whom he determined to wed himself. A great expedition was prepared, and he with all his brothers embarked on his large warship which was followed by ten thousand other ships. They went to the Sultan’s city, and their number was so great that they filled the harbor, frightening the people greatly.

Then the General’s brother disembarked and came to the house of the Sultan. He demanded the Princess for the General, saying that if the request were refused the fleet would destroy the city and all its people. The Sultan and his courtiers were so frightened that they decided to give his daughter to the General, the next full moon being the date set for the wedding.

In the meantime Bantugan had been preparing everything for the marriage which he expected to take place at the appointed time. But as the days went by and Balatama did not return they became alarmed, fearing that he was dead. After three months had passed Bantugan prepared a great expedition to go in search of his son, and the great warship was decorated with flags of gold.

As they came in sight of the Sultan’s city, they saw the Spanish fleet in the harbor, and one of his brothers advised Bantugan not to enter until the Spaniards left. They then brought their ship to anchor. But all were disappointed that they could go no farther, and one said, “Why do we not go on? Even if the blades of grass turn into Spaniards we need not fear.” Another said: “Why do we fear? Even if the cannon-balls come like rain, we can always fight.” Finally some wanted to return to their homes and Bantugan said: “No, let us seek my son. Even though we must enter the harbor where the Spaniards are, let us continue our search.” So at his command the anchors were lifted, and they sailed into the harbor where the Spanish fleet lay.

Now at this very time the Spanish general and his brother were with the Sultan, intending to call upon the Princess. As the brother talked with one of the sisters of the Princess they moved toward the window, and looking down they saw Bantugan’s ships entering the harbor. They could not tell whose flags the ships bore. Neither could the Sultan when he was called. Then he sent his brother to bring his father, who was a very old man, to see if he could tell. The father was kept in a little dark room by himself that he might not get hurt, and the Sultan said to his brother:

“If he is so bent with age that he cannot see, talk, or walk, tickle him in the ribs and that will make him young again; and, my Brother, carry him here yourself lest one of the slaves should let him fall and he should hurt himself.”

So the old man was brought, and when he looked out upon the ships he saw that the flags were those of the father of Bantugan who had been a great friend of his in his youth. And he told them that he and Bantugan’s father years ago had made a contract that their children and children’s children should inter-marry, and now since the Sultan had promised his daughter to two people, he foresaw that great trouble would come to the land. Then the Sultan said to the General:

“Here are two claimants to my daughter’s hand. Go aboard your ships and you and Bantugan make war on each other, and the victor shall have my daughter.”

So the Spaniards opened fire upon Bantugan, and for three days the earth was so covered with smoke from the battle that neither could see his enemy. Then the Spanish general said:

“I cannot see Bantugan or the fleet anywhere, so let us go and claim the Princess.”

But the Sultan said: “We must wait until the smoke rises to make sure that Bantugan is gone.”

When the smoke rose, the ships of Bantugan were apparently unharmed and the Sultan said:

“Bantugan has surely won, for his fleet is uninjured while yours is badly damaged. You have lost.”

“No,” said the General, “we will fight it out on dry land.”

So they both landed their troops and their cannon, and a great fight took place, and soon the ground was covered with dead bodies. And the Sultan commanded them to stop, as the women and children in the city were being killed by the cannon-balls, but the General said:

“If you give your daughter to Bantugan we shall fight forever, or until we die.”

Then the Sultan sent for Bantugan and said:

“We must deceive the Spaniard in order to get him to go away. Let us tell him that neither of you will marry my daughter, and then after he has gone, we shall have the wedding.”

Bantugan agreed to this, and word was sent to the Spaniard that the fighting must cease since many women and children were being killed. So it was agreed between the Spaniard and Bantugan that neither of them should marry the Princess. Then they both sailed away to their homes.

Bantugan soon returned, however, and married the Princess, and on the way back to his home they found his son and took him with them. For about a week the Spanish general sailed toward his home and then he, too, turned about to go back, planning to take the Princess by force. When he found that she had already been carried away by Bantugan, his wrath knew no bounds. He destroyed the Sultan, his city, and all its people. And then he sailed away to prepare a great expedition with which he should utterly destroy Bantugan and his country as well.

One morning Bantugan looked out and saw at the mouth of the Rio Grande the enormous fleet of the Spaniards whose numbers were so great that in no direction could the horizon be seen. His heart sank within him, for he knew well that he and his country were doomed.

Though he could not hope to win in a fight against such great numbers, he called his head men together, and said:

“My Brothers, the Spanish dogs have come to destroy the land. We cannot successfully oppose them, but in the defense of the fatherland we can die.”

So the great warship was again prepared, and all the soldiers of Islam embarked, and then with Bantugan standing at the bow they sailed forth to meet their fate.

The fighting was fast and furious, but soon the great warship of Bantugan filled with water until at last it sank, drawing with it hundreds of the Spanish ships. And then a strange thing happened. At the very spot where Bantugan’s warship sank, there arose from the sea a great island which you can see to-day not far from the mouth of the Rio Grande. It is covered with bongo-palms, and deep within its mountains live Bantugan and his warriors. A Moro sailboat passing this island is always scanned by Bantugan’s watchers, and if it contains women such as he admires, they are snatched from their seats and carried deep into the heart of the mountain. For this reason Moro women fear even to sail near the island of Bongos.

When the wife of Bantugan saw that her husband was no more and that his warship had been destroyed, she gathered together the remaining warriors and set forth herself to avenge him. In a few hours her ship also was sunk, and in the place where it sank there arose the mountain of Timaco.

On this thickly wooded island are found white monkeys, the servants of the Princess, who still lives in the center of the mountain. On a quiet day high up on the mountain side one can hear the chanting and singing of the waiting-girls of the wife of Bantugan.

THE PESTLE AND MORTAR OF JADE

Once upon a time, so very long ago that even the great-grandfathers of our great-grandmothers had not been born, there lived in the city of Kwen-lu a little Chinese boy named Pei-Hang.

His father and mother loved him dearly, and did all they could to shield him from the power of the evil Genii, or spirits, of whom there were a great many in China. Of course, there were some good Genii too, but most of them were very much the opposite, and Pei-Hang’s mother took every precaution against them.

It is well-known that a wicked Genii will not come near a Chinese boy if he has some red silk braided in with his pigtail, or if he wears a silver chain around his neck, and all of them dread an old fishing-net. So Pei-Hang’s mother made him a little shirt out of an old fishing-net, and she took care that his pigtail should be plaited with the brightest of red silk.

Also she was particular in having his head shaved in just the right way, with a tuft sticking straight up in the luckiest place.

And so Pei-Hang got safely over the troubles of his babyhood, and grew from a baby into a big boy, and then to a tall, handsome youth. Then he left off wearing his fish-net shirt, but still wore the silver chain round his neck and had red silk in his pigtail.

“It is time that Pei-Hang saw a little more of the world,” said his father. “He must go to Chang-ngan and study under the wise men there.”

Chang-ngan was the ancient capital of China, a very large city indeed, and Pin-Too, the teacher to whom Pei-Hang was sent, was the wisest man there.

Pei-Hang soon learned what the world was thinking about, and many other things also. As soon as he was eighteen he took the red silk out of his pigtail and the silver chain from his neck, because grown-up people were supposed to be able to protect themselves against the Genii without the aid of charms.

When he was twenty, Pin-Too said he could not teach him any more, and told him to go back to his parents, and comfort them in their old age.

Pei-Hang was his favorite pupil, and Pin-Too looked very sorry when he said this.

“I will start to-morrow, Master, and will leave the city by the Golden Bridge,” replied Pei-Hang obediently.

“No, you must go by the Indigo Bridge,” said Pin-Too, “for there you will meet your future wife.”

“I was not thinking of a wife,” observed Pei-Hang, with some dismay.

Pin-Too just wrinkled up his eyes and laughed.

“So much the better!” said he. “When you have once seen her, you will be able to think of nothing else.”

It was very hot, and Pei-Hang intended to start in the cool of the early morning, but he sat so long over his books the night before his journey that he wakened late, and when he opened his eyes the sun was blazing down upon the streets, making the town like a furnace.