Part 3

There is no one on the great island of Negros who does not love the name of Catalina. Even the wild mountain men speak it with respect, and down in the coast towns at night, when the typhoon is lashing the waters of Tañon Strait, and the rain and wind make the nipa leaves on the roofs dance and rattle, the older people gather their little black-eyed grandchildren around the shell of burning cocoanut oil and tell them her story.

Many years ago there lived in Dumaguete a poor tuba seller named Banog, who made his daily rounds to the houses just as the milkman does in far-off America. But instead of a rattling wagon he had only a long bamboo from which he poured the drink, and in place of sweet milk he left the sap of the cocoanut tree.

The bad custom of mixing tuñgud, a kind of red bark, with the sap, and thus making of it a strong liquor, had not yet been known, so Banog, though poor, was respected, and the people tried in every way to help him and his daughter Catalina.

Catalina was a beautiful girl of sixteen and very good and industrious, but with many strange ways. She scarcely ever spoke a word and spent most of her time in looking out over the sea. Sometimes she would suddenly stand erect and, clasping her hands, would remain for a long time looking up at the sky as if she saw something that no one else could see. On account of these strange manners the people thought her a wonderful girl and she was supposed to have mysterious powers.

One day many ships came up from the island of Mindanao and hundreds of fierce Moros landed. Shouting and waving their terrible knives, they fell upon the peaceful people and killed many, among them poor Banog. Then they robbed and burned the houses and, seizing all the women they could find, set sail for their great southern island. Among the prisoners was Catalina. With her eyes fixed on the sky she sat very quiet and still in the bow of one of the boats, and though her companions spoke often to her she made no reply.

Suddenly she sprang into the water and a wonderful thing occurred, for, instead of sinking, she walked lightly over the waves toward the distant shore. The Moros were so astonished that they did not try to stop her and she reached the land safely.

Many people who had hidden in the forests ran out to meet her but she spoke to no one. With her eyes still fixed above she walked through the burning town and along the road to Dalugdug, the Thunder mountain, that lies behind Dumaguete.

On Dalugdug there lived a terrible Sigbin. Its body was like that of a monstrous crow, but just under its neck were two long legs like those of a grasshopper, which enabled it to leap great distances without using its wings. It ate any one who came near its home, so when the people saw Catalina start to climb the mountain they begged her to come back. She paid no heed to their cries, however, but went up higher and higher, till her white dress seemed merely a speck on the mountain side.

All at once she seemed to stop and raise her hands. Then a fearful shriek was heard, and the fierce Sigbin came rushing down the mountain. It appeared to be greatly frightened, for it took tremendous leaps and screamed as if in terror. Over the heads of the people it jumped, and, reaching the shore, cleared the narrow channel and disappeared among the mountains of the island of Cebu.

When the people saw that the Sigbin had gone they ran up the mountain and searched everywhere for Catalina, but they could find no trace of her. Sorrowfully they returned to their homes and busied themselves in building new houses and in making their town beautiful once more.

Several years passed in peace and then again the Moro boats came up from Mindanao. The men hurriedly gathered on the beach to meet them, and the women and children hid in the cocoanut groves.

This time the Moros had no quick and easy victory, for the Visayans, armed with bolos and remembering their lost wives and sisters, fought furiously, and for a time drove the enemy before them. But more Moro boats arrived and numbers told against the defenders. Slowly but surely they fell fighting until but a few remained.

Suddenly a bridge of clouds unfolded from Dalugdug to the town, and across it came the lost Catalina holding a beehive in her hands. Then she spoke and thousands of bees flew from the hive to the ground. Again she spoke and waved her hand, and the bees changed into little black men with long sharp spears, who charged the Moros and killed every one of them.

Then Catalina, the hive still in her hand, went back over the bridge and disappeared once more in the mountain.

The people came out of their hiding places, crowding around the little black men and questioning them, but they received no answer. Instead the little warriors gathered together and ran into the forest and up the mountain side, where they were soon lost to view.

Such is the story of Catalina, Since that time Dumaguete has been safe from the Moros. The Sigbin has never returned to Negros. It still lives in the mountains of Cebu and the people are so afraid of it that they lock themselves in their houses after dark and can hardly be induced to come out. Up in the mountains of Negros live the little black men. They are called Negritos and are very savage and wild.

The savior of Dumaguete still lives in Dalugdug and is worshiped by the people. And in the town, now grown into a big busy city, the old people for years to come will tell their grandchildren the story of Catalina.

The Fall of Polobulac

This is a tale from Panay. It probably originated with the Spanish fathers, who wished to impress the doctrine of the Seven Deadly Sins on the natives. The islands are just off Iloilo.

A little way from Iloilo there once was a beautiful island called Polobulac, or Isle of Flowers. Its shores were covered with beautiful trees and plants; splendid gardens of flowers were found everywhere; fruits grew in abundance; fountains sparkled in the sunlight; and the people were the happiest in the world. They danced and sang to gay music, and were free from every care and sorrow.

Filled with confidence in their good fortune, and proud of their beautiful island, they began to slight the people of the neighboring islands, and to treat them with insolence and scorn.

One night the sky was darkened, the lightning flashed, the rain fell in torrents, and a voice cried from the clouds, above the roar of the thunder:

"I am Pride. Avoid me or perish."

Terrified, they prayed to God for protection, but with the morning sun their fears left them and they continued as before.

Days passed and the people grew richer, but, not satisfied with their wealth and with their own beautiful island, they longed to possess the lands of their neighbors.

Again came the storm, and again a voice cried from the heavens:

"I am Covetousness. Come to me and die."

Once more they appealed for protection, but they did not change their ways.

Weeks went by, and with wealth came low and base desires. The storm came as before and brought the warning:

"I am Evil Desire. Fly from me or be lost."

But again it sounded to sealed ears. Months rolled on. The people quarreled with their neighbors, and sent forth an army to make war upon them. The voice thundered:

"I am Anger. I give eternal torment."

Years followed, and the tables of the people of Polobulac were loaded with the finest foods and wines. Day and night found them feasting. The cry sounded above them:

"I am Gluttony. I devour my children."

The winds alone echoed the warning.

Time flew by. Each man sought to outdo the others in display of luxury and magnificence. The poor grudged the rich their fortunes, and sought in every way to injure them. Again a voice came through the darkness:

"I am Envy. My people are condemned."

But they closed their ears and would not hear.

More wealth brought greater luxury. They lolled in idleness. They idled in the midst of magnificence. The voice warned:

"I am Sloth. I bring final warning."

They were used to the voices now, and gave them not the slightest heed. Their insolence and greed grew greater. The fair island shook with dissension and strife.

One day the sun was hidden by blackness. A fearful tempest burst over the land. The people on the other islands saw Polobulac wrapped in seven huge pillars of flame.

When the sky cleared, Polobulac was nowhere to be seen. In its place, seven blackened rocks marked the spot where stood the beautiful isle.

They are there to this day. You can see them as you leave the harbor for southern ports. Sometimes they appear as one. Again they seem to group in twos and threes. But there are seven.

They are called the Deadly Sins.

The Escape of Juanita

Have you heard of the terrible Tic-balan, A tall and thin and very black man, With terrible teeth and a horse's head, And covered with hair that is long and red?

He lives in the awful Balete tree, And to pass the place you must say "Tabi"; If you do not, the Asuang comes at night, And throws big stones till you die of fright.

Now once there lived in Santa Cruz town A little girl known as Juanita Calaon; She was gentle and sweet and as good as could be, And she always bowed low to the Balete tree.

One day to the forest alone she did roam To get some good wood for the fire at home; She gathered some twigs that she found on the ground, And all of them fast in a bundle she bound.

Then happy and free, with the pack on her head, She followed the road that back to town led. She sang as she walked, and so happy was she That alas! she bowed not to the Balete tree.

All at once then she heard a most terrible roar, And the Tic-balan fierce through the air seemed to soar. He seized poor Juanita, and quick as could be He shut her inside of the Balete tree.

Two days passed, and when the girl failed to come back, Her parents went out, and no friends did they lack To help in the search, for the whole pueblo came, And loudly they shouted poor Juanita's name.

At last when they thought that the search brought no good, One man found Juanita's neat bundle of wood; He called the good news, and as more came to see, Loud knocking was heard in the Balete tree.

Then many were frightened, but many were brave, And wondered by what means the girl they could save; For they knew that it must be Juanita who knocked, And that inside the Balete tree she was locked.

Soon they ordered that candles and music be brought, And a crucifix holy was what they next sought; And when all was ready they closed round the tree, While they prayed to the true God to set the girl free.

They lighted the candles and then the band played, And Juanita's mother, who was not afraid, Advanced with the crucifix held in her hand, And tapped with the cross on the evil tree grand.

Then a roar shook the forest and chilled all their hearts, And the awful Balete split into two parts; Then they saw in the center, as each big half fell, Their darling Juanita all smiling and well.

She ran from the tree to her fond mother dear, While the band played and every one gave a loud cheer; Then back to the pueblo they danced in delight, And kept up their singing through all the long night.

Still there to this day lies the Balete tree, But no more do the people that pass say "Tabi." And the spirit no more can molest any man, For God has more power than the fierce Tic-balan.

The Anting-Anting of Manuelito

The Anting-Anting is a stone or other small object covered with cabalistic inscriptions. It is worn around the neck, and is supposed to render its owner impervious to knife or bullet. Many are wearing these charms, especially the Tulisanes or outlaws. The Anting-Anting must not be confused, however, with the scapular, a purely religious symbol worn by a great number of the Christian Filipinos.

Many of the older Filipinos remember Manuelito, the great Tulisane, who, more than fifty years ago, kept all the Laguna de Bai district in a state of fear. His robber band was well organized and obeyed his slightest wish. He had many boats on the lake and many hiding places in the mountains, and throughout the country there was no villager who did not fear to oppose him, or who would refuse to help him in any way when required to do so.

In vain the Guardia Civil hunted him. Many times they surrounded the band, but Manuelito always escaped. Many shots were fired at him, but he was never hit; and once, when he was cut off from his men and surrounded, he broke through the line, and though fifty bullets whistled around him he did not receive a scratch.

The officers of the Guardia Civil blamed their men for the bad marksmanship that allowed Manuelito to escape. They told all the people that it should never occur again, and promised that the next fight should end in the death of the outlaw. The people, however, did not believe that Manuelito could be killed, for he wore on his breast a famous Anting-Anting that he had received from Mangagauay, the giver of life and death.

This charm was a stone covered with mysterious signs. It was wrapped in silk and hung by a string from the robber's neck, and even if a gun were fired within a few feet of him the Anting-Anting was sure to turn the bullet in another direction. It was this charm that always saved him from the Guardia Civil.

Manuelito was very proud of his Anting-Anting, and many times, when a fiesta was being held in some town, he and his band would come down from the mountains and take part in the games. Manuelito would stand in the town plaza and allow his men to shoot at him, and each time the Anting-Anting would turn aside the bullets. The people were very much impressed, and though a few of the wiser ones secretly thought that the guns were only loaded with powder, they were afraid to say anything; so the greater number thought it very wonderful and believed that there was no charm so powerful as the Anting-Anting of Manuelito.

For years the Tulisane, protected by his charm, continued to rob and plunder. The Guardia Civil hunted him everywhere, but could never kill him. He grew bolder and bolder, and even came close to Manila to rob the little towns just outside the city.

At last the government grew tired of sending out the Guardia Civil, and ordered a regiment of Macabebes to hunt and kill the Tulisane and his men.

Manuelito was at Pasay when news was brought to him that the Macabebes were coming. Instead of running from these fierce little fighters, he decided to meet them, and many people offered to help him, believing that the Anting-Anting would turn away all bullets and give them victory. So Manuelito and many men left the town, built trenches in the hills near San Pedro Macati, and waited for the Macabebes to appear.

They had not long to wait. The Macabebes, hurrying from Manila, reached San Pedro Macati and soon found that Manuelito was waiting to fight them. They left the town at once and advanced on the Tulisane trenches.

It was a great fight. From the other hills close by many people watched the battle. Five times the Macabebes advanced, and were forced to fall back before the fierce fire of the Tulisanes. But the Macabebe never knows defeat, and once more their line went forward and in one terrible charge swept over the trenches and bayoneted the outlaws. In vain Manuelito called on his men to fight. They broke and ran in every direction. Then, seeing that all was lost, Manuelito started to follow them; but a volley rang out, and, struck by twenty bullets, he fell to the ground dead. The Macabebes chased the flying Tulisanes and killed that of all the band only a few many, safely reached the mountains.

While the Macabebes were chasing the outlaws, many people came down from the hills and stood around the body of Manuelito. They could hardly believe their eyes, but the many wounds and the blood staining the ground proved that the great Tulisane was indeed dead.

What of the Anting-Anting? Had it lost its power?

One man timidly unbuttoned the shirt of the dead robber and pulled out the charm. The mystery was explained. Fixed firmly in the center of the Anting-Anting was a silver bullet. There was but one explanation. The Macabebes had melted a statue of the Virgin and used it to make bullets to fire at Manuelito. Against such bullets the charm was useless, but against ordinary lead it never would have failed. Had not the people seen Manuelito's own men fire at him?

The charm was taken from the neck of the dead Tulisane and many copies were made of it. Even to this day hundreds of people are wearing them. They will tell you about Manuelito's great fight and also about his famous Anting-Anting.

"But," you say, "the Anting-Anting was useless. Manuelito was killed."

They answer, "Yes, Señor, it is true; but the Macabebes used bullets of silver. Had they used lead the story would have been different. Poor Manuelito!"

When the Lilies Return

A legend of the Chinese Invasion. Quiapo, even at the time of the early Spaniards, and for years after, was a deserted field. The story is an old one and generally known to the Tagallos.

At the time when the Pasig flowed peacefully along between flowery banks; when its breast was not torn by puffing steamers; and when only a few clustering huts marked the present site of Manila, there grew on the banks of the river a beautiful field of lilies.

The lilies glistened like silver in the sunlight, and their sweet odor filled the air with delicious perfume. No hand plucked them from the earth, and no foot trampled out their fragrance; for an ancient prophecy had said that while the lilies stood the happiness of the people should endure.

But after a time there came dark days in the history of the Philippines. Yellow hordes swept across the water and carried all before them. The people could hardly expect to resist the invaders, for their warrior king, Loku, had profaned the word of the god, and, in the form of a lizard, was fulfilling his punishment. Their armies were weak and scattered, and the conquerors marched on in triumph.

As report after report of disaster reached Luzon, the people trembled for the safety of their fair land. Warriors gathered hastily for the defense of the nation, and all waited for the enemy to appear.

One day the water was dotted with the junks of the invaders. They came slowly down the bay, and anchored near the mouth of the Pasig.

Then from the boats poured the yellow warriors. Spears rained upon them, stones and arrows laid them low, but their numbers were countless. The people were swept back along the river banks.

Fiercely they fought, but numbers told against them. Foot by foot they were pressed back, till they stood on the border of the field of lilies, where they made their last stand. But it was to no purpose.

The invaders poured from the ships, and in one desperate charge drove back the ranks of the people, who fought and died among their sacred lilies.

All through the night the battle raged, and at daybreak, when the victorious invaders rested on their spears, the beautiful field was no more.

The lilies were crushed and torn. The bodies of dead and dying warriors lay everywhere, and the crushed flowers were stained with the blood of friend and foe. The peace of the land was lost.

Many years have passed since then. New races have come to the Islands, and new manners and customs have been introduced. The Pasig still flows on to the sea, but its banks are harnessed by bridges. Lofty dwellings and stores take the place of the little huts, and a great city marks the site of the little village.

Where once was the beautiful field is now a busy part of the great city. It is called Quiapo, after the lilies. Many of the older people remember the prophecy and wonder if the lilies will ever return.

The land is now a peaceful and contented one. Comfort and happiness may be found among its inhabitants. Perhaps the fair, strange women from the great land over the sea are the lilies. Who can tell?

Glossary

balete tree = a type of tree, Ficus indica, often believed to be the home of evil and vengeful spirits. camisas = shirts. chinela = slipper. cocheros = drivers of horse-drawn carriages. Datto = chief. Guardia Civil = Spanish police. ladrones = thieves. lubi lana = coconut oil. Moro = Muslim's from the southern islands of the Philippines. Negritos = Negroid people indigenous in some parts of the Philippines. nipa = palm leaf of which the roofs of cheap houses are made. sacayan = small outrigger boat. tuba = alcoholic drink made from the sap of the coconut tree. tuñgud = the red bark of a mangrove tree.

End of Project Gutenberg's Philippine Folklore Stories, by John Maurice Miller