Recollections of Full Years

heavy, brass chain around his waist, while his long, black hair is tucked into a little, flat, straw hat which is fastened, in some mysterious way, on the back of his head. They nearly all wear heavy, brass earrings which make their ears unsightly, and the Bontoc “dandy” usually has a long, black, homemade and half-smoked cigar tucked behind one ear for all the world like the pencil of an absentminded bookkeeper.

We had canyaos, or bonfires with “head-dances,” and all the strange varieties of entertainment provided by the village headmen. The musical instrument of the Igorrote is called a ganza, which is a round brass gong with a handle made of a human jawbone, upon which the “musician” beats a rhythmical measure with a soft, padded mallet as he whirls and twists in his fantastic dance. These ganzas⁠—some of them very old⁠—are tribal rather than individual property and it is very difficult to induce their owners to part with them. Their value is computed in carabaos instead of in rice, or in dollars and cents. If you should ask an Igorrote how much he would take for his ganza, especially if it were one associated with tribal history, he would very likely look smilingly solemn and say: “One hundred carabao,” or any other prohibitive number that might happen to occur to him. This is a form of racial pride and deserves respect.

We went from Bontoc back through Sagada to Cervantes, and then started down the long, narrow trail straight through the mountains to Baguio. At Cervantes we received our first messages from Manila and, among other things, was an order to Major Stevens to report for duty. His going gave us an opportunity to send letters down and report ourselves alive and not at all anxious to get home, but we didn’t like losing the Major. We had, by this time, become a very well acquainted, well-disciplined and congenial party and we disliked seeing the beginning of the end of our expedition. General Bell directed everything and joined in our sports and foolishness whenever he could do so without endangering the dignity of the “corps,” but, while he was kindness itself, he was so strict with the young officers that we had sometimes to steal our opportunities for relaxation.

A few hours’ riding south from Cervantes are some famous copper mines which were owned by a Spanish syndicate. We turned off in their direction and came into a most extraordinary country. The whole face of the landscape looks like corroded copper, and the great, scarred gulches where the ore has been taken out make one think of chaos, or dreams of an inferno. I don’t know how to express an idea of bigness in a mere touch of description as I pass on through the story of this trip, but I want to convey an impression of overwhelming size in everything. It is a great, wild world where one sees miles in every direction and where nature seems to have done everything on a gigantic scale.

A mile or so beyond the copper mines we came upon a veritable mountain paradise⁠—from our point of view, at least. It was the home of Don José Mills, a Spaniard who, for some unknown reason, had banished himself to this out-of-the-world spot and, with what labour and pains can only be imagined, had made for himself a civilised abode. I was shown to a room all by myself, which had in it a real bed with springs and a mattress. It was the first one I had seen for I don’t know how long. I regarded it with great curiosity at first, then I sat down on it most respectfully. I lay down and stretched myself out; then I pulled up a soft blanket and, though it was only midday, nothing short of the gravest emergency could have induced me to move. The emergency presented itself, finally, in the form of luncheon and I discovered that Don José had returned hurriedly from Candon in order to entertain us and that he had brought with him everything in the form of food and liquid refreshments that he could find. The result was a triumph, and we decided that we should like to remain under his hospitable roof indefinitely.

Igorrote chief proudly displaying his house decorations of human skulls and carabao horns

That night, amid much merriment, we initiated our host into the mysteries and secrets of a little society we had formed and which we called the Earring Club. Our insignia was a big, brass Igorrote earring, and we had signs and passwords, to say nothing of a song which nobody but ourselves could sing. We appropriated the Cavalry tune of “For Seven Long Years I’ve Courted Nancy,” but the words were our own and it was not difficult to supply a new verse to fit each incident or occasion as it came along. The song began:

For twelve long days we’ve hiked through mountains,
Heigh ho! Cross roaring rivers!
For twelve long days we’ve hiked through mountains,
Ha! Ha! While on our way through wild Lepanto!

Bontoc Igorrotes with ganzas, showing handles made of human bones

Up at Sagada we came upon the only bed of mint that any of us had ever seen in the Philippines, and as General Bell had almost an inspired knowledge as to what mint was originally intended for, this gave us material for three new verses:

One rainy day we reached Sagada,
Heigh ho! Among the rice fields!
One rainy day we reached Sagada,
Ha! Ha! As we toiled along o’er the hills of Bontoc!

A place most sweet with fragrant mint-beds,
Heigh