Part 10 (1/2)
We reached Liangan July 31st with two hundred and thirty-nine men. Here we purchased rifles from the Moros, crossed the bay at night, and reached Tudela August 5th. Procrastination on the part of the conferring dattos made a failure of the expedition. We had spent about $10,000 gold for rations, good will, and protection.
Morgan and Miller, when the army was disbanded, lived around Langaran for a while. One day while they were bathing in the sea, they were cut-down by natives--I do not know why. Morgan was killed while arguing with his a.s.sailants. ”We have done a lot for you,” he said; but those were his last words. Miller, attempting to escape by running through the shallow water, was pursued by _bancas_ and dispatched. The bodies were found later in a marsh.
Capitan Isidro Rillas's Narrative.
I was to have been educated for the Church; but after studying for some time in Cebu preparatory to a course at Rome, I set aside the wishes of my parents, who desired that I become a Jesuit, and took unto myself a wife.
You wonder, probably, why we Visayans, who are very peaceable, should have a.s.sumed a hostile att.i.tude toward the Americans. Of course, we do not really like the game of war. But what positions would we hold among our own communities if we were to be easily imposed upon? You would have thought it a queer army that a.s.sembled at Mount Liberdad in 1901,--barefooted _hombres, ignorantes_ from the rice-pads and the hemp-fields, armed with cutla.s.ses and bolos--for we had no more than fifty guns--undisciplined and without military knowledge. But the appearance of your army in the war of Independence caused amus.e.m.e.nt to the British soldiers--for awhile? The Government generously recognized a number of the leaders of the insurrection, and in doing so has not done wrong. Our leaders are to-day, among our people, what your patriots are in your own land. And even you have no respect for those who hid themselves among the women during the affair at Oroquieta. Left alone, we could soon organize our government, our schools, and army. But, of course, conditions render this impossible, and so we think American protection is the best.
You ask for some account of my experiences with the Moros during our excursion to their territory. Our army was at first about five hundred strong, but nearly half the men deserted on the way. We had not counted on so much hostility among the Moros, although they are ancient enemies of ours, and until very recently have raided our coast villages and carried off our people into slavery. But when we wanted slaves, we purchased them--young Moros--from their parents at Misamis.
Though our mission was an altogether friendly one, our hosts did not let any opportunity go by of taking an unfair advantage of us. General Rufino was obliged to leave me as a hostage at Uato at the home of Datto Bancurong.
If we could have effected an alliance with the Moros, it would no doubt have been a formidable one. The Moros are well armed and expert fighting men. Most of our weapons have been purchased from them, as they had formerly acquired a stock of stolen Spanish guns. Those living in the Lake Lanao vicinity must have about two thousand Remington and Mauser guns, besides a number of old-fas.h.i.+oned cannon, which are mounted in their forts. They manufacture their own ammunition, which is necessarily of an indifferent quality.
We told the Moros that they would all have to work if the Americans should come. We knew that they were all slaveholders and ladrones; we knew that while they kept their slaves they would not need to work; and so we thought our argument ought to appeal to them.
When I was left with Datto Bancurong, security for the five hundred _pesos_ that Rufino had been forced to borrow, I was treated with considerable hospitality. At one time when I had the fever, he secured some chickens for me,--they were very scarce. The datto had three wives, but one of them was rather old. I did not notice any ornaments of gold upon them. They wore silver rings and bracelets, which the native jewelers had made. The women are industrious, and consequently do most of the work. They are quite skillful with the loom, and manufacture from the native fabric, _ampic_ (sashes) which their husbands wear. But for themselves they buy a cheaper fabric from the _Chinos_, which they dye in brilliant colors and make into blankets. You would probably mistake the men for women at first sight because of their peculiar cast of features. They are dressed much better and more picturesquely than the women, wearing bright silk turbans, sashes with gay fringe, and blouses often fancifully colored and secured by bra.s.s or mother-of-pearl b.u.t.tons.
The Moro tribes, because they recognize no ruler but the local datto, are unable to accomplish anything of national significance. Concerted action is with them impossible. Thirty or forty villages are built around the lake. They are so thickly grouped, however, that one might as well regard them all as one metropolis. The mountains form a background for the lake, which is located on a high plateau. The climate here is more suggestive of a temperate zone than of a place within four hundred miles of the equator, and the nights are often disagreeably cold. To become a datto it is only necessary to possess a few slaves, wives, and carabao. A minor datto averages about four slaves, a dozen head of cattle, and two wives. He wears silk clothes, and occupies the largest _nipa_ house.
The Moro weapons are of several kinds,--the _punal_ (a wedge-bladed knife), the _campalon_ (a long broadsword), and the _sundang_ (a Malay kriss). They also use head-axes, spears, and dirks. Being Mohammedans, they show a fatalistic bravery in battle. It is a disgrace to lose the weapon when in action; consequently it is tied to the hand. Many of their knives were made by splitting up the steel rails laid at Iligan. The bra.s.s work of the Spanish locomotives, also, was a great convenience in the manufacture of their cutlery.
Although they have schools for the boys, the Moro people do not make a speciality of education. The young men are taught from the Koran by priests, who also teach the art of making characters in Arabic. Their music is for the most part religious, inharmonious, and unmelodious. The _coluctang_, their most important instrument, resembles our guitar. They seem to recognize three grades of priests--the _emam_, the _pandita_, and the _sarip_, named in order of superiority. Their churches are great, circular inclosures, made of _nipa_ and bamboo, with no attempt at decoration. Sacred instrumental music is supplied by bells and drums. The drum at Uato, where I was, being of extraordinary size, required two men to operate it. Each town contains a large percentage of ladrones, whose influence is offset by the _pandita_ (or elders), three or five for every _barrio_. These are the secondary priests, and it is necessary that they go into the church three times a day to pray. At sunrise, at midday, and at sunset they will cry repeatedly, ”_Alah! Alah! Bocamad soro-la!_” (Allah is G.o.d; Mohammed, prophet.) All the priests wear bright robes like the dattos, but the clergy is distinguished by a special _bangcala_, or turban, which is ornamented by a string of silver rings.
There are about five hundred Filipinos living with the Moros, mostly slaves. Deer, jungle-c.o.c.k, wild hogs, and cattle are to be found in the plains and forests near the lake. The soil is fertile, and sufficient crops of corn, rice, coffee, and tobacco may be raised, _Camotes_ (wild potatoes), fruits, and cocoanuts are very scarce.
Though many of the dattos are disposed to treat the Americans as friends, three in particular will entertain a different att.i.tude. These are Bayang, Mario, and Taraia, who, among them, have control of many men. They realize, however, that the new invaders will be harder to oppose than were the Spaniards of the former _laissez faire_ regime. The Filipinos will, of course, be glad to see the Moros beaten in the conflict that is now inevitable.
To conclude my narrative, we finally got the better of our hosts, the enemy. The Moros wanted $1,500 in return for the $500 they had loaned Rufino. ”Then you must let the hostage come to his own people,” said Rufino, ”so that he can use his influence among them and solicit funds; for otherwise we will not ransom him.” The situation did not look so very bright for me; but at a conference of the interested dattos they reluctantly decided that I might depart. Eight Moros were appointed to accompany me as a body-guard. On reaching Iligan it was requested that the post commander furnish me an escort back to Oroquieta, which was done. The Moros profited so much by our excursion, selling us good will and rice, that I am sure they will forgive us for not paying them the ransom money, which is no more than the brokerage on a small loan.
Chapter XVI.
Along the Iligan-Marahui Road.
The recent victories achieved by Captain Pers.h.i.+ng over the fanatic More tribes in the vicinity of Lake Lanao, have opened up for military occupation a new territory equal in fertility and richness to the famous Cagayan valley of Luzon. The Moros under the American administration will be recognized as independent tribes, and be restricted probably to reservations similar to those the Indians now occupy. This means that a great tract of land will some day be thrown open for American development. The soil will yield abundant crops of corn, tobacco, coffee, rice, and other products, while the forest wealth appeals to the imagination. Rubber, sugar, hemp, and _copra_ are the natural products of the country near the coast. The lake itself is situated on a high plateau, with a prevailing temperate climate. Where the mountains do not intervene, the land slopes gradually down to the sea.
One of the most important military operations that was ever undertaken in the Philippines was the construction of the Iligan-Marahui road, which, having been for some time open to the pack-trains and the heavy traffic, is at present nearing its completion. Though the work was planned by members of the engineers' corps, all the clearing, grading, and the filling-in were done by soldiers who had never until then known what it meant to handle pick and shovel. The younger officers, who, for the first time in their lives, were superintending a construction job, went out and bossed the gangs as well as many an experienced and seasoned foreman could have done. The soldiers, who deserve no little credit for their work, are members of the Twenty-eighth and the Tenth infantries.
It was about the last of January that I made a trip to Iligan, arriving in a Moro sailboat from another port on the north coast of Mindanao. Two or three army transports, with the quarantine flag flying (for the cholera was still in evidence), lay quietly at anchor in the bay. Along the sh.o.r.e a warm breeze ruffled the green branches of the _copra_ palms. Near the new dock a gang of Moros were at work, perspiring in the hot rays of the tropic sun. A tawny group of soldiers, dressed in khaki, rested in the shade of a construction-house, and listened dreamily to far-off bugle calls.
The Moros were dressed picturesquely in a great variety of costume, ranging from bright-colored silk to dirty corduroy. Red _buya_-juice, was leaking from the corners of their mouths. Their turbans, though disgracefully unclean, were silk. Their coats were fastened by bra.s.s military b.u.t.tons, and their sashes, green and red, with a long fringe, were tied around their waists; their trousers, like a pair of riding breeches, b.u.t.toned up the side.
While spending the first evening at the club, I had seen mingling with the young lieutenants, immaculate in their new olive uniforms, bronzed, mud-bespattered officers in the blue army s.h.i.+rt and khaki, with the Colt's six-shooter hanging from an ammunition belt. These were the strangers from the town of white tents on the border of the woods. At midnight possibly, or even later, they would mount their horses and go riding through the night to the encampment on the hill. The very next day one of the immaculate lieutenants, laying off the olive uniform, might have to don the old campaign hat and the flannel s.h.i.+rt, and follow his unshaven comrades up the road.