The Philippines: Past and Present Volume II Part 8

Finally, late in the afternoon, Pula gave in, turned the murderer over to us, and promised to turn over his brother, but said that the latter must first be allowed to go home to get some clothes, and that he would then send him on board our ship.

We improved this our first opportunity to beat a retreat without losing face. Our Moro "friends" bid us good-by on the beach, then armed themselves and followed us at a short distance as we marched back to the landing place where our launch was pounding in the surf, awaiting our return. Three strong fighting parties came out of the dense vegetation which bordered the beach immediately after we had pa.s.sed the places where they were concealed. They had obviously been waiting there to cut off our retreat if trouble started, and could most certainly have done it. In fact, they could have shot us down from the brush without showing themselves.

It required all the self-control which I could muster to keep my back toward the strong and constantly growing group of armed men who followed us, and to look unconcerned, yet I knew, as did every other member of the party, that our seeing the light of another day probably depended on our ability to do both things. The slightest evidence of alarm would have precipitated a fight which could have had but one outcome for us.

When opposite the launch, we turned and faced the Moros and then the several members of the party went aboard, one at a time. Never did a widening strip of water look better to me than did that which finally began to separate us from the sh.o.r.e.

To our great amazement Dato Pula kept his word and sent his brother on board!

No man ever laboured more diligently for the good of alien peoples than did Governor Miller. He evolved a wise plan for improving the condition of the Tagbanuas living in the vicinity of Puerto Princesa, many of whom, as is so often the case with the uncivilized peoples of the Philippines, were reduced to a state of peonage by their Filipino neighbours. A large reservation was set aside for their exclusive use, and they were persuaded to retire to it. At the cost of infinite labour and pains Governor Miller built there a fine set of school buildings, and the Bureau of Education started a school which gives instruction in English, arithmetic and manual training to Tagbanua boys and girls.

Governor Miller's keen interest in this project led him to stop to inspect the progress of the work when returning from a long trip around the island. In the face of a coming storm he ascended the Aborlan River to the school site, where he remained until after dark, oblivious of the fact that a tremendous downpour of rain in the neighbouring mountains had produced a sudden flood in the river. Returning to his launch, he jumped on board and cast off before the engine was started. The current swept the launch away like a straw, carried it in close to the bank, and an overhanging branch, which ordinarily would have been high above the water, struck the governor a stunning blow on the head, knocking him overboard. He never came to the surface, and twenty-four hours elapsed before his body was recovered.

Mr. John H. Evans, then serving as lieutenant-governor of Bontoc, in the Mountain Province, was appointed in his place, and I took him around the Palawan group of islands to introduce him to his unruly subjects. On arrival at Puerto Princesa we were told that the occupants of a fleet of Moro boats were already raiding and killing along the southern coast of the island, and we accordingly took on board Captain Moynihan of the Philippine Scouts, with thirty of his soldiers. The report proved unfounded, but nevertheless the soldiers came in very handily.

I landed at Culasian Bay on the west coast, meaning to ascend a river to the settlement of Dato Tumay, the man whose people had on a former occasion fought Governor Miller with captured constabulary rifles and been soundly whipped. Finding no one on the beach, we walked up the river bank for a short distance to a group of half a dozen tightly closed houses which looked as if they might belong to fishermen. Here we were met by a splendidly dressed glad-hand delegation, who greeted us rather too effusively. My suspicion was further aroused by the fact that only three of them carried weapons, in sight at least. The weapons of a Moro chief are just as much a part of his full dress as are the garments he wears. I had a few moments' friendly conversation with these people, during which I noticed that several of them displayed a marked inclination to get behind me. This I did not like, so took up a position with my back to the river. Presently I suggested that we had come to call on Dato Tumay. The following conversation ensued:--

"You cannot go to see him."

"Why not? Are the trails in bad condition?"

"There are no trails."

"Are you not Dato Tumay's people?"

"Yes."

"How did you come down if there are no trails?"

"We came down the river."

"Very well, we will go up the river."

"You cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"There are no boats to carry you."

"How did you come down?"

"In those boats. [Pointing out two tiny dugouts barely able to carry two men each.] You and one of your friends can go up in them if you like. Two of our men will paddle you."

This proposition did not seem attractive to me, so I suggested that I would take a little walk up the river. I had been positively a.s.sured that there was no other boat in the vicinity, but at the very first turn discovered a suspicious looking trail running up into the bushes and following it found a fully rigged war-canoe over which freshly cut brush had been hastily thrown. I suggested to the Moros that this looked very much like a boat. They replied that it leaked. I asked them to put it into the water, stating that I liked to see boats leak. Not a Moro stirred. We had brought twenty-five soldiers ash.o.r.e with us, as Tumay's reputation was by no means of the best, and I now called to some of them to come and put the boat into the river. In pa.s.sing back of the group of Moros, one of these men stubbed his toe on the shaft of a lance which was hidden in the gra.s.s, and fell on his nose. He raised the lance as he recovered his feet, then stooped and picked up a second one, trailed them behind him until he reached a position in front of me and dropped them on the ground. Both had the sheaths removed from their long steel heads. Another soldier kicked around in the gra.s.s a bit and produced a serpent kriss which had been drawn from its scabbard. Still another fished up a barong. [28]

I asked the ranking Moro present what was the meaning of these weapons, concealed at our very feet. He said that they were afraid that we would steal them and had therefore hidden them. I asked him whether any white man had ever stolen anything from them, and also why they had hidden them there, where we were likely to cut our feet on them, instead of in the forest which was not fifty yards away. Obviously there was no satisfactory answer to these questions and he had no time to attempt any, for one of the soldiers stooped down and pulled out of the gra.s.s from beside his very hand a forty-five caliber single-action revolver, c.o.c.ked and with all six cylinders loaded. Fearing to be taken at a disadvantage, I said to the soldiers, "Make these men sit down, and search the place for arms."

The soldiers repeatedly ordered the Moros to sit down and the order was translated to them in their own language by my interpreter. Not a man obeyed. On the contrary, one of them turned his back and started off at a quick pace, disregarding repeated orders to halt. Theoretically he should have been shot.

Practically, I had ordered the soldiers not to fire under any circ.u.mstances unless some Moro drew a weapon. Mr. Olney Bondurant, a.s.sistant to the provincial governor for work among the Moros, had been taking a hasty look back of the houses and was returning to tell me that they were full of armed men. The Moro above mentioned, just before meeting Bondurant, reached into a bush and drew out two of the cruel fighting knives known as barongs. They were in their flat sheaths, and lay one on top of the other. s.n.a.t.c.hing the upper one from its scabbard, he struck a wicked blow at Bondurant as the latter pa.s.sed him on the trail. Bondurant, who was quick as a cat, dodged the blow, then whirled and shot his a.s.sailant. Instantly armed men with drawn weapons began to boil out of the houses on the side farthest from us, and those soldiers who were in a position to see them promptly opened fire. Other Moros also began to pop up at the edge of the forest, and we had a bit of a scrimmage, lively enough while it lasted. I took no part in it, but with three soldiers helping me compelled eleven men of the group with whom we had been talking to sit down, and kept them sitting until the unpleasantness was over, as I wanted to talk with them. I then told the head man to stand up.

He was very reluctant to do this, obviously expecting to be shot, but no such fate was in store for him. On the contrary, I gave him a lecture, told him where certain wounded and certain dead Moros were to be found, and instructed him and his people first to care for the wounded; second, to bury the dead; third, to go to Tumay's place and tell him that although I had come to make a friendly call on him, my party had been attacked by his people, but that the only men who had been hurt were those who had endeavoured to use their weapons on us. I furthermore directed him to tell Tumay that he must come across the island to the place where Mr. Bondurant lived, and explain this extraordinary occurrence. We then took our departure, marching down the beach a mile to our launch, and expecting every moment to be fired on from the dense forest close at hand.

We learned from a wounded Moro that our party had been mistaken at a distance for that of Governor Miller. On his last trip around the island he had been threatened by Tumay, who surrounded him with a strong body of armed men and talked to him in a very insulting manner. Miller, who had but a single companion, knew himself to be at Tumay's mercy, and believing that he was in grave danger of being killed and that only a bluff could save him, slapped Tumay's face vigorously and then gave him a strong piece of his mind. Tumay, overawed at such temerity, allowed him to depart in safety. Before leaving, Governor Miller exercised his lawful authority to order Tumay to take his people and move to the east coast of the island. [29]

Tumay begged that his people be allowed to harvest some rice which he said they had planted, and Governor Miller, not knowing whether or not the statement was true, and not being in a position to investigate it, allowed him two weeks to be spent in this way.

I was about Governor Miller's size. When I landed Tumay's people mistook me for him, and thought that he was returning with soldiers to punish them for having disobeyed him, or to enforce his order that they move to a more accessible place. Hence the plan for the attack, which was rather clever. While the reception committee entertained us, the men concealed in the woods were to open on us. As we turned to deal with them the ones hidden in the houses were to attack us from the rear, and the reception committee were then to join in. When they found themselves mistaken as to the make-up of the party, which was larger than they had expected, there was delay and confusion, and the attack fizzled.

A few days later Tumay actually started across the island in obedience to my instructions, but on the way he met two recalcitrant Moro chiefs who encouraged him to stand out, saying that they and their people would help him fight the Americans, and he turned back. I accordingly asked that a hundred scouts be sent after him, and this was done, fifty of them marching over the mountains to cut off his retreat and fifty coming on a coast-guard boat which was intended to serve as a base of operations and afford a place to which injured men might be brought for treatment. Strict instructions had been given that there was to be no firing, except in self-defence, when women or children were liable to be hit. These orders were strictly adhered to, and Tumay was twice allowed to escape when he could have been shot down if it had not been for the danger of killing Moro women and children. Ultimately, after the non-combatants had surrendered, his armed band was overtaken early in the morning, and fired from ambush into the approaching scouts. The return fire killed or wounded most of them, but Tumay got away. It was stated by some of his followers that he was badly wounded, but this proved to be untrue. A little later he voluntarily surrendered, as he had been deserted by his people and was reduced to dire straits.

The misconduct of Tumay and his men gave me a reason for moving the Moros from the west coast of Palawan, where they were living in mangrove or nipa swamps. It was hard to approach their settlements under any circ.u.mstances, and very dangerous to do so if they were disposed to be hostile. The west coast of Palawan was a no-man's land, difficult of access on account of weather conditions and numberless uncharted reefs. It had long been a safe haven for evil-doers who fled from other portions of the Moro country to escape the vengeance of their fellows, and there was no possibility of compelling them to abandon their evil practices unless they were transferred to more accessible regions.

Governor Evans, with my approval, now issued the necessary instructions to them, and they were all moved to the other side of the island, together with their household goods and chattels of every description. Once there they were a.s.sisted in procuring building materials, and were fed until such time as they were able to take care of themselves. Only the old, the infirm, and women and children who could not support themselves by working were given food gratis. Trail construction was inaugurated, and all able-bodied persons were given an opportunity to engage in this or in other honest labor for a good wage payable either in money or in rice.

At the end of a year I visited these Moros at their new homes near Bonabona, going ash.o.r.e without a weapon of any sort, and finding them more friendly than could reasonably have been antic.i.p.ated. I sent for old Tumay and had a very frank talk with him about past differences, in the course of which I asked him if he had had enough. He a.s.sured me that he had, and I then suggested that we forget the troubles which were behind us and try to get on better in future. He promised to do his part, and has faithfully kept his word.

In August, 1912, I again visited the Moros of this region and to my great surprise was greeted as if I were a member of their royal family. They carried me ash.o.r.e through the surf in a chair covered with a fine piece of purple brocade. Two men equipped respectively with a five-foot blue and a five-foot yellow umbrella, struggled with each other to see who should protect my delicate complexion from the sun. Wonder of wonders, the wives of the ranking chiefs were present in a dancing pavilion which had been erected for our benefit, this being the first time that these women had ever shown themselves in public. I learned that Hadji Mohammed [30] had explained to them that the women of other nations were getting progressive, and had argued that they ought to follow suit. The poor things were dreadfully frightened, and sat with their backs toward us, covering their faces with gayly colored cloths if we so much as glanced toward them, but they were there, anyhow!

At noon the Moros sat down with us to a fine luncheon of their own providing. This is the first time in my eighteen years of residence in the Philippines that I have known a Moro to sit at meat with a white man, or for that matter with any person not a Mohammedan.

After the meal several chiefs insisted on my visiting them individually, and I found that entertainment had been provided at each of their houses. Old Dato Tumay, with only one woman to help him, had built the best house in town, and was cultivating with his own hands the largest piece of land farmed by any Moro in Palawan. He was greatly pleased when I complimented him on the good example he was setting. Later I referred to it in my annual report, and the a.s.sistant to the governor for work among the Moros read to him what I had said. The old man was delighted. He immediately called the local chiefs together and delivered a long lecture on the advisability of settling down and tilling the soil. The princ.i.p.al request that the Moros made, on the occasion of this visit, was that they be furnished agricultural implements and seeds.

Tumay was very ill with dysentery. From the ship I sent him medicine and a case of milk. He recovered in due time.

Moros are uncertain people to deal with, but I believe that we are now on the right road so far as concerns those inhabiting Palawan, and that with a continuance of the present policy there will be no further serious trouble with them.

The Tagbanua reservation and the school established in connection with it have proved a great success. A large number of Tagbanuas have settled on the reserve and are farming industriously, while their boys and girls are making rapid progress in school, where they obtain practical instruction that will make them better and more useful men and women.

In Southern Palawan the wild people of the highlands, who have never yet allowed any one to enter their country, are being persuaded to come down to the coast by the establishment of little government trading posts where they can sell their few products at good prices, and can purchase what they need at a reasonable figure.

All in all, things are moving forward steadily in Palawan, although many of the Filipino settlements are still filthy and unsanitary. Encouraged by the results obtained in Mindoro, I have inaugurated an active campaign to compel these people to clean up, and antic.i.p.ate success. One thing which renders it difficult to deal with some of the Filipinos of this province is that in its more remote districts they are showing a marked tendency to scatter out into the forests where they make caingins, or forest clearings, and live in tiny huts. Little by little they are gravitating back to the barbarism from which they originally emerged, and under existing laws they are free to do this if they like. I regret that this tendency is by no means confined to the province of Palawan. The Spaniards dealt with it in no gentle manner, but we are powerless to do more than argue against it.

The cost of the work in Palawan in valuable human lives has been dear. No one can at the outset fill the place of a man like Governor Miller, who had become invaluable not only as a result of his personal characteristics, but because of his years of experience and of the regard in which he was held by his people. Unfortunately his life is not the only one which has been sacrificed for the good of the inhabitants of this province. Mr. W. B. Dawson, who organized the work of the Tagbanua Industrial School and was in a fair way to make a success of it, died of malignant malarial fever contracted at his post of duty. Mr. William M. Wooden, who succeeded him, in his anxiety to return more quickly to his post after a brief absence, leaped overboard from a launch and was drowned while trying to swim ash.o.r.e. Mr. Olney Bondurant, a.s.sistant to the provincial governor, who did admirable work among the Moros and the Tagbanuas in Southern Palawan, and though suffering from dangerous illness never gave up, but rendered service in the field on the very day of his death, also fell a victim to pernicious malaria.

If the results obtained by these splendid men, who amid lonely surroundings and in the face of manifold discouragements, bravely and effectively carried on their country's work, are to be permanent results, then I hold that the price has not been too dear, but if they are to be destroyed by the premature withdrawal of American control these sacrifices are pathetic indeed.

All of the territory in Northern Mindanao east of Dapitan and north of the eighth parallel of lat.i.tude was at the outset divided between the provinces of Surigao and Misamis. It is generally conceded that these provinces had been worse governed under American rule by their Filipino officials than have any others, and it was to be antic.i.p.ated that, under such circ.u.mstances, their very numerous non-Christian inhabitants would prove to have been very badly mistreated. Sinister rumours reached me from time to time as to what was occurring, but I had no competent persons whom I could send to make investigations on the ground, and intended to defer action until I could go myself.

Matters were finally brought to a crisis by reports from Catholic priests, school-teachers and other reliable persons setting forth a condition of affairs which seemed to demand immediate remedial action. The commission had previously made a liberal sum available for work among the Bukidnon people of Misamis, and I had endeavoured to bring about the prosecution of this work by the Filipino provincial officials, but my efforts had been fruitless. Not one centavo of the funds appropriated had ever been expended. No Filipino provincial official had so much as visited the main Bukidnon country, the borders of which were distant less than three hours' ride from the provincial capital.

The Bukidnon people are industrious. They raise a large part of the coffee, hemp and cacao exported from Cagayan, the capital and the princ.i.p.al port of Misamis. They were being robbed when they sold their produce. A common procedure was to instruct them that they must sell to certain individuals at absurdly low prices, and if they did not promptly obey, to bring charges of sedition against them and throw them into jail. As a matter of fact, they hardly knew the meaning of the word sedition.

Depredations upon them were by no means confined to the town of Cagayan de Misamis. Filipinos from the coast invaded their territory, debauching them with vino and purchasing their property when they were drunk; getting them into crooked gambling games and cheating them, or swaggering around armed with revolvers and so terrorizing them that they surrendered their belongings. It was common for a Filipino to go into the Bukidnon country with nothing but the clothes on his back, and soon to return with three or four carabaos heavily laden with hemp, coffee, cacao, or gutta percha.

Although the provincial governor had appointed, in some instances, men whom he had never seen as presidentes of settlements, the settlements were in reality without government, and their discouraged and disgusted people were betaking themselves to the mountains whence they had been brought years before by Jesuit missionary priests. The wilder members of the Bukidnon tribe, and the Man.o.bos in the southern part of the province, who had never abandoned their mountain homes, were preying upon their neighbours, and committing crimes of violence undisturbed.

In the Agusan River valley conditions were nearly as bad. The people along the main stream were for the most part broken-spirited Man.o.bos. Their settlements had been parcelled out among the members of the munic.i.p.al council of Butuan to be plundered. The activities of these "Christian" gentlemen had been such that a number of Man.o.bo villages were already completely abandoned, while the people of others were gradually betaking themselves to secure hiding-places in the trackless forests which stretch east and west from the banks of the Agusan.