Part 19 (1/2)
Curiously enough, their dance was very j.a.panese in character. Then some Man.o.bos, picturesque in short, skin-tight trousers and bolero jackets, with bags and boxes beautifully worked in bright beads, danced a graceful, monotonous step. The women have a swaying, snake-like dance with waving arms and jingling of bracelets and ”hiplets,” if I may be allowed to coin the word.
At last, after so many adventures, we found ourselves again on board the _Rizal_. An enchanting spot on this boat was a projection over the bow, on which one could sit curled up high above the water. On this perch we felt like the red-winged sea gulls that circled far above us. We pa.s.sed over a sea of polished jade, which at night shone with phosph.o.r.escence like gleaming silver.
Next morning, August 23d, we approached Zamboanga. Five American s.h.i.+ps, all decorated, came steaming out to meet us and fell in behind in order, making a lovely sight on the bright, smooth seas. As we neared the town, we suddenly saw a large flotilla of native boats, with tom-toms beating and thousands of flags fluttering--such a gay sight! Banners of all shapes, streaming and flapping and waving, and such colours and combinations of colours--stripes of green and purple and orange in designs of lemon and red and magenta, serpentine flags and square ones, hung in all sorts of ways, and brightly coloured canopies under which sat the sultans, and green umbrellas and yellow and--bang! off went their small lantankas, tiny native-made cannon--a most exciting reception!
We landed under triumphal arches and were driven in state carriages through lines of school children, who sang and threw us flowers from old Spanish gardens. The post was really beautiful, for it had much left from old Spanish times, and what had been done over had been done with taste. The green parade had a terraced ca.n.a.l pa.s.sing through it, and avenues of palm; the officers' quarters, smothered in flowering plants and fronting out over the glittering blue sea, were large and airy and finer than any we had seen before. It is considered one of the best posts in the Philippines, and seemed cool and pleasant.
[Ill.u.s.tration: BAGOBOS WITH MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.]
There was the usual procession--first, the troops of the garrison and the constabulary, then thousands of visiting Moros, Bagobos and Man.o.bos, of every colour of skin and clothes, many of them whooping and leaping, and then a tiresome following of hundreds of Filipinos, who had joined in to make a political demonstration. It is said the Filipinos did not wish the Moros to take part in the procession.
Exciting times followed at the meeting after this parade, where both Filipino and Moro speakers were heard. Said a Filipino, addressing the Secretary:
”You have just visited our province and have just learned its conditions; at such places in it through which you have pa.s.sed you must have seen quite a number of Moros, but I believe that a separation ...
could very well be established, to the end that both people, the Christian Filipino and the Filipino Moro, might have the government that corresponds respectively to each of them, for it is a very regrettable thing that on account of the presence of the latter we Christians should be unable to enjoy the liberties that reason and right would grant us....
”I think it is my duty to advise you that the Moros who filed past the grandstand were brought from remote and distant places with the exclusive purpose of giving greater eclat to your reception. Moreover, it must be borne in mind always, in dealing with the affairs of this province, that the Moros have no political influence, possess no property, nor help pay the expense of the government.”
Then Dato Mandi spoke:
”I am here, El Raja Mura Mandi, representing the Moros. As I look about, I see far more Moros than the Filipino contingent, and if that is so, that is the reason it is called the Moro Province. (Tremendous applause from the Moros.)
”When first the Americans came here, from the very beginning, whatever they asked me to do I did. I was loyal to them ever. Now I have heard a rumour that we Moros are in the hands of the Filipinos....
”If the American Government does not want the Moro Province any more they should give it back to us. It is a Moro province. It belongs to us.” (Tremendous applause by the Moros.)
Dato Sacaluran threw down the Moro challenge:
”I am an old man. I do not want any more trouble. But if it should come to that, that we shall be given over to the Filipinos, I still would fight.” (Applause.)
But Hadji Nangnui, who spoke of himself as ”a Samal,” made the clearest statement of the Moro position:
”The Secretary of War must look the matter in the face. We are a different race; we have a different religion; we are Mohammedans. And if we should be given over to the Filipinos, how much more would they treat us badly, than they treated even the Spanish badly who were their own mothers and their own fathers in generations? How did they treat them?
Think about it! Think twice! We far prefer to be in the hands of the Americans, who are father and mother to us now, than to be turned over to another people.” (Applause.)
In the evening we dined delightfully at the Pers.h.i.+ngs'. After dinner, the Moros danced in the garden the spear and s.h.i.+eld dance, and the Bagobo women gave the scarf dance. The Bagobos still offer human sacrifices. Their caps, if tied in a certain way, show how many men they have killed. Their dress is made of cloth which they weave from carefully selected and dyed fibers of Manila hemp, and it is treated with wax in such a way as to make it very smooth and durable. In the glow of the red light from Chino Charlie's famous lanterns, their picturesque costumes, gleaming with bead work, added much to the brilliancy of the scene. They love music and make some large stringed instruments. They also play the flute from the nose, with one nostril stopped up, like the Hawaiians.
The dancing under the palms in the garden, by the rippling seas, where the moonlight flooded down radiantly, was quite like a strange dream.
At this dinner I was told the story given by Dean Worcester by which the Moros explain why they do not eat pork:
”Mahamoud had a grandson and a granddaughter.... As he was king of the world, Christ came to his house to visit him. Mahamoud, jealous of him, told him to prove his power by 'divining' what he had in a certain room, where, in fact, were his grandchildren. Christ replied that he had no wish to prove his power, and would not 'divine.' Mahamoud then vowed that if he did not answer correctly, he should pay for it with his life.
Christ responded, 'You have two animals in there, different from anything else in the world.' Mahamoud replied, 'No, you are wrong, and I will now kill you.' Christ said, 'Look first, and see for yourself.'
Mahamoud opened the door, and out rushed two hogs, into which Christ had changed his grandchildren.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: BAGOBO WITH NOSE FLUTE.]
Some verses recited at General Pers.h.i.+ng's dinner showed the feeling of army officers about their life in the Philippines. A stanza runs: