  Appendix 1: Ifugao Reckoning of RelationshipAll Ifugao words denoting relationships except the words for father and mother are common in gender. To any individual of any generation: 1. All his kin of his own generation are tulang (brothers, sisters). 2. All children of his kin of his own generation are anak (sons, daughters). 3. All grandchildren, great-grandchildren, etc., of his kin of his own generation are apo (grandsons, granddaughters). 4. All kin of the same generation as his father and mother are ama or ina (father or mother). 5. All kin of the same generation as his grandparents, great-grandparents, etc., are apo (grandparents). 6. All relatives by marriage who are the husbands and wives of the kin of the same generation are aidu (brother-in-law, sister-in-law). 7. All relatives by marriage, the husbands and wives of the kin of the generation of his father and mother, are amaon or inaon. 8. The father or mother of his wife are ama or ina (father or mother), by courtesy. 9. The kin of the father or mother of his wife are tulang di ama (or ina) ’n di inay-ak (kin of the father, or mother, of my wife). In the Benaue district, the kin of one’s father or mother, in addition to being called father or mother, are also called ulitao (uncle or aunt), and the husbands or wives of the ulitao are called ulitaon (uncles-in-law, aunts-in-law). The son or daughter of a kinsman or a kinswoman of the same generation in addition to being called son or daughter of one’s self is called amanaon. Appendix 2: Connection of Religion with ProcedureAn Ifugao myth.—Partly because of its connection with the Ifugao marriage ceremony, partly because it illustrates so well the use to which the Ifugao puts his myths—rarely telling them for amusement, but reciting them in religious ceremonies as a means to magic—and partly because it is so characteristically Ifugao, I have decided to append the following myth, despite the fact that it might more properly appear in a work on religion. Most of the Ifugao’s myths have either been invented or if not invented, changed, for the purpose of affording an analogy to the solution of the difficulties or misfortunes that confront men today. The Ifugaos have a myth telling of a great flood, whose only survivors were a brother and sister—Balitok and Bugan. In chagrin and shame because her brother has gotten her with child, Bugan flees into the East Region to seek destruction from the terrors there. They refuse to destroy her, but teach her how to take the curse off marriages between kindred by the sacrifice of two pigs, a male and female of the same litter. Notice how a flood myth—an element in the mythology of nearly every people under the sun—has been modified and made to serve a magic purpose. The myth given below is a further and utterly inconsistent modification of this flood myth. In the myth above, Balitok and Bugan are represented as having a child and not wanting it—in the myth below, they have no child but want one. The ceremony of using a myth to serve a religious end consists of two parts. The first is the recitation of the myth by the priest. This is called bukad. In affords an analogy to the condition of sickness, war, famine, harvest, union in marriage, or what not, in which the performers of the ceremony find themselves, and the happy solution of the problem. It is terminated by what I term the fiat. This is an expression of the priest’s will that the happy solution related in the myth shall be existent in the present situation. It is not, I think, the fact of the priest’s will that is thought to bring about the solution so much as the compelling and magic power of his spoken word to that end. Up to this stage, the ceremony is sympathetic magic. In the second stage it becomes witchcraft, and is called tulud, “pushing.” In it the priest “pushes” the deities of the myth over the route from their habitations in the Skyworld, the Underworld, the East Region, the West Region, or wheresoever they may abide, step by step to the village of the Ifugaos performing the ceremony. He may recite their passage through as many as thirty or forty localities, and as the priest drones: “They climb the steep at Nunbalabog; they descend at Baat, they wade at Monkilkalney,” etc., the compelling power of his spoken word “pushes” the deities along. Finally the deities arrive and declare through the priest that they will confer the benefits requested. This myth is employed in all of the final ceremonies of marriage, and in all ceremonies of married persons that have the obtaining of How Balitok and Bugan obtained children.—And it is said that Bugan and Balitok of Kiangan were childless. “What is the use [of living]?” said Bugan. “Stay here, Balitok. I am going to go to the East Country. I will see Ngilin, Umbumabakal, Dauwak, Pinyuhan, Bolang, and the Gods of Animal Fertility of the East.” She got betels together and packed them. Bugan and Balitok ate. After finishing, they chewed betels. Bugan put her pack on her head and started. She came to Baladong [Ligaue Gap]. She went on to Kituman. Went eastward to Ulu. Forded at Agwatan. Encountered the Fire at Bayukan. He [the Fire] asked, “Where are you going, Bugan?” “I am going into the East Region,” said Bugan, “because we are childless, Balitok and I. I am going to find some one to devour me, because we are very lonely.” Fire laughed. “Do not feel so, Bugan,” he said, “keep going eastward until you come to Ngilin, Umbumabakal, and the deities of the East Region.” Bugan put her pack on her head and continued to Balahiang. She came to the lake [or ocean(?)] at Balahiang. She aroused the Crocodile. “Who are you, human?” said the Crocodile. “I am Bugan of Kiangan.” “And why is it,” said the Crocodile, “although the Flood of the East Region and the Flood of the West Region came upon me and fear to arouse me, that you, Bugan, a [mere] human, [presume to] molest me?” “Yes,” said Bugan, “that was my intention; for I am searching for someone to devour me.” “Why?” said the Crocodile. “Yes, for I have become very lonely; for Balitok and I have no children.” The Crocodile chuckled. “Oh, I will not devour you, Bugan,” he said. “I would shame to devour one so beautiful. Continue on eastward, and arrive at the dwelling of the Shark. Wake him up, in order that he shall be the one to devour you.” Bugan thought well of it. She put her pack on her head. She went on eastward and came to the waters where dwells the Shark. It was fear-inspiring, and caused her to exclaim “Inay!” She was terrified, but she conquered her fear. She reached for betels, and threw them between her teeth. She crushed them. They became like blood. Bugan spat into the waters. She beheld a great wave circle. The Shark came into sight. He grunted. “Who are you, human?” he said. “I am Bugan, the wife of Balitok at Kiangan,” she said. “And why is it that you arouse me, human? And there come the Strong Wind of the East and the Strong Wind of the West, and they arouse me not; for I am ferocious here in the East Region. Yet you, Bugan, the wife of Balitok at Kiangan, you arouse me?” “Yes, that is what I purpose,” said Bugan, “for I am looking for someone to devour me.” The Shark chuckled. “Why?” he said. “Yes, for I want to be devoured because Balitok and I have no children.” “I would shame to do so, for you are a beautiful woman. Come into my house in the Waters in order that we may eat.” Bugan entered. They ate. “Continue,” said the Shark, “into the East Region. Go unto the dwellings of Umbumabakal and the Gods of Animal Fertility.” Bugan rose to the surface of the waters, and on the beach again put her pack on her head. She continued the journey. She came to Lumbut, to the house of Umbumabakal. The house was covered with enormous ferns. It terrified her. She threw betels between her teeth, and put down her fear. She passed through the gate of the enclosure about the house, and sat down on the rice mortar. In the evening of the day Umbumabakal came down. He was looking for something to eat. He passed through the gate. Bugan hid herself in a large wooden bucket. Umbumabakal kept sniffing the air. “Why is it that there is something human here now,” he said, “yet nothing of the kind has ever happened before?” He sought for Bugan. He found her in the bucket. “Why, human, are you here?” he said. “I am Bugan, the wife of Balitok.” “Why do you come here, Bugan, wife of Balitok?” he said. “Because I want to be devoured.” “Why?” “Yes, for we are childless at Kiangan.” “Umbumabakal laughed. “Well,” said he, “tomorrow we will go to the dwelling of Ngilin and the other Gods of Animal Fertility.” On the morrow they visited the various Gods of Animal Fertility. They gathered pigs and chickens as gifts to Balitok and Bugan. “Return to Kiangan,” they said. “We will go with you.” [At this point, some priests change the myth into a tulud, while some continue it as a myth. We will here insert the method of this change.] [Fiat by the priest, i.e., a statement of the priest’s will:] It is not formerly, but now; not to Kiangan that they come but here to our village of X, in order that they relieve A and B of childlessness; in order that they increase the life here in our village of X. They bring children and pigs and chickens and miraculous increase of rice to A and B here in our village of X. They return to Lumbut. They come west to Agab. They continue to X. [Here follows a detailed “pushing” of the party from the East Region to the village in which the priest is performing the invocation, and to the house of the childless couple.] They look up. “Why, it is our children in X,” they say. “Yes,” [says the priest,] “for they are childless. Give them children. Let some be male and some be female. Let there be a myriad of shields [figuratively: men] and a myriad of tudong [women’s sweet potato baskets; figuratively: women] here in our village of X. Let the pigs and the chickens become many. May the rice be miraculously increased. Bring us much life here in our village of X. [If the priest does not change the myth to a tulud at the point above, he continues it as follows:] They continued with Bugan to Kiangan. They gathered together the “sitters” [priests] at Kiangan. They sacrificed the pigs and the chickens. The Gods of Animal Fertility taught them how to perform the bubun ceremony. They divided [as a tribute] the meat with Ambahing [who takes semen from the womb of women and carries it off in his hip-bag] and with Komiwa [who stirs up semen in the womb so that conception is prevented]. Bugan and Balitok multiplied at Kiangan. There came to be a myriad of shields [men] and a myriad of sweet-potato baskets [women] in Kiangan. The [Fiat by the priests:] It is not then but now; not in Kiangan, but here in our village of X. It shall be the same with these children, A and B. Their children will be many. Let some be male and some female. Let their pigs and the chickens, etc., etc. [Tulud.] “We will go now,” said Umbumabakal. “All right,” said Bugan. “There is a calling above,” said Ngilin. “Have you kin yonder?” said Umbumabakal. “Yes,” said Bugan, “we have kin in the village of X.” “Let us thither,” say the Gods of Animal Fertility. They come westward to Tulbung. They continue to X. [The priest “pushes” the deities step by step on the way to the village in which he is performing the invocation. When they arrive, the same occurs as shown in the tulud inserted above.] The halupe feast.—The halupe are a class of deities that keep an idea constantly before the mind of one whom they are sent to harass. They are most frequently used against debtors; but they may be sent to soften the wrath of an enemy or the stubbornness of a pretty girl, or for other purposes. They are induced to serve the end of him who invokes them by the sacrifice of a pig or chicken and by offerings of betels and rice wine. There are about a hundred of these deities. After the ancestral spirits have been invoked, and beseeched to intercede with the halupe for the purpose desired, the halupe themselves are invoked, in some such words as the following: “Ye halupe of the Skyworld, of the Underworld, of the West Region, and of the East Region, are beseeched to attend. It is prayed ye that ye go and harass (name) so that he will not sleep for thinking of his debt to me. If he goes to get water, go with him; if he goes to get wood, go with him; if he goes on a trading trip, go with him. Harass him to the extent that he will give me his pigs, his rice, his chickens, his death blankets, his money, his rice fields, his “irons,” his house furnishings: [There is no danger of asking too much of a deity or a white man!] May the speech of the go-between make him ashamed to refuse! Do not let him sleep till he pays the debt.” A subclass of the halupe deities have, for their especial function, the soothing of obstinate debtors so that they may not get angry at the words of the go-between, nor run away from him when they see him coming. These are also invoked. The priest then is possessed by the halupe one by one, and through him, each of the halupe takes a sip of rice wine, and states that he will harass the debtor and that he will not allow him to sleep till he pays. After this ceremony, a fowl or pig is sacrificed and given the halupe. The meat is cooked and spread out on some cooked rice. Bukad (Myth).—Oadda kano da Tumayaban ud Kakunian ke da Panubok ke da Binantawan ke da Banaban ke da Dimpuyu. Kon-da takon da monnigi, dola-da ’d Kabunian. Panganun-da amaiyu da. Ahi da peman padapadan. Inhungal di amaiyu. Bohwagon-da hagiit. Punayaman ’d Kabunian, ya nunudnud-da ud Pangagauwan. Unudun di halupe ya dimatong ud Pangagauwan. Agan-da ya domatong-da amaiyo. Mondaiyo-da ud Baladong ya hidi peman kano balobgon-da. Buyangon-da ta dauntan-da. Oadda Halupe Binantawan ya ibaga-na banting. “Maid banting-ko,” konan Tumayaban. Oadda kano Bugan da nak Tadona ud Kiangan ya monbuliwong, te “Eak,” kano, “monbaga di mangigamal ke haoy ta kaliwak di gimauwat an haoy, an adi-da umidet di guwat-da.” Pitaowan-na paiyo ud Kiangan. Oadda, kano, Binantawan ya inanang-na Bugan, an “Eka, Tumayaban,” konana, “ta tumutung-ka ’n Bugan! Ime Tumayaban hi kadwan Bugan ya Konana Tutung-ok nihbo! Bugan” Kimali Bugan, ya konana “Kon manahauliu-ka? “Antipi?” konan Tumayaban. “Ya te monbuliwong te eak manila mangigamal ke haoy,” “Antipi?” konan Tumayaban. “Om te maato-ak an mangibaga di gimauwat an haoy.” “Antipi, tuali adi-da mitugun?” konan Tumayaban. “Ibangad mo hi balei-yo, ta itugun-mo dakami ’n halupe.” Bimangad Bugan, ya patayon-na manok ya ayago-na halupe. “Umetako,” konan Banaban, “te intugan ditako di nak Tadona ’d Kiangan. Higupan-mi dola-da ud Kiangan. Ibaga-da punbagaan da. Badangan-mi tulang-mi ud Kiangan.” Ime-da halupe, ya halupaiyan-da punbagaan an gimauwat di babui ’n di tulang-da ud Kiangan, ya ununud Bugan, ya monbaga, ya inala-na babui-da ya peho-da ya gumok-da ya manok-da ya page-da ya paiyo-da. [Then he waves his hand.] [The priest blows, in the direction of his debtor.] Bokun ud Kiangan, te hitu, ta ume-ak hi bigat ta alak di babui Kodamon ya gamong-na ya paiyo-na peho-na ya manok-na. Balinan di hapihapito-ko. Kai-ak halupe, kai-ak Banaban, ta idet-na ta magibu ta maid di pangidoh-dohana. [Here the myth changes into a tulud, “pushing.”] Oadda, kano, halupe, ya monbaga-da ya “Monbangad, tako” konana dolatako ud Kakunian. “Oadda tugun,” konan Tumayaban. “Tipi oadda tugun ud tapÂ? Dehidi iba-yo?” “Om,” konan Bugan. “Dehidi iba mi ’d tapÂ.” Oadda halupe, ya tikidan da ud Tataowang. Agan ud Kulab. Ladangon ud Gitigit. Ladangon ud Pangibanutan. Tikidan ud Nunbalabog. Itanglig-da tungun ud Baay ya Pindungan ya maid. “Aha! ud Ablatan di montugun” kalion-da. Mondotal ud Panaangan. Mondayu ud Iwakal. Paadan ud Upupan. Agan-da ya ladangan ud Tobal. Buduan-da ud Uhat. Agwatan ud Nungimil. Abatan ud Boko. Agan-da ud Pugu. Montikid ud Takadang. Humabiat ud [The priest blows and waves his hand in the direction of Kodamon’s house]. Ooo-of! Hadon-yo, ta umeak hi bigat! Translation.—And it is said that Tumayaban and Panubok and Binantawan and Banaban and Dimpuyu of the Skyworld decided to go hunting there in their region of the Skyworld. They fed their dogs. And then, indeed, they sent them on the chase. The dogs found a trail. They started up a wild boar. They chased it about the Skyworld, and followed down to Pangagauwan [the mountain that towers over Kiangan]. The halupe [the deities above named] followed after. They came up with their dogs, and there, it is said, they speared the quarry. They spread grass on the earth and cut it up. And Halupe Binantawan asked for fire. “I have no flint and steel,” said Tumayaban. And it is said that Bugan, the daughter of Tadona of Kiangan, was sick of life; for she said, “I will beg some one to eat me up in order that I may forget my debtors who will not pay the debt they owe me.” She set out across the rice fields at Kiangan. Binantawan saw her and said: “Go, Tumayaban; get fire from Bugan.” Tumayaban got up and went to where Bugan was. “Let me have fire, Bugan.” “Are you in a hurry?” said Bugan. “Why?” said Tumayaban. “For I am tired of life, and am hunting for somebody to eat me up,” said Bugan. “Why?” said Tumayaban. “Yes, “for I am tired of beseeching my debtors to pay their debts.” “Why, indeed, will they not listen to reason?” said Tumayaban. “Go back to your house and call upon us halupe.” Bugan returned, and sacrificed chickens, and called upon the halupe. “Let us go, for the daughter of Tadona has called upon us at Kiangan,” said Banaban. [The old Kiangan about four miles below the village now called Kiangan by American officials.] “They have gathered together in Kiangan. Let us assist our kinsfolk there.” The halupe went and they harassed those of whom it was asked [the debtors], those who had borrowed pigs of the kin in Kiangan. And Bugan followed after and took their pigs and their “irons” and their money and their chickens and their rice and their rice fields and their death blankets. [The priest blows and waves his hand in the direction of his debtor’s house.] Let it be so, not at Kiangan, but here, so that I may go in the morning and take Kodamon’s pigs, death blankets, rice fields, money, chickens. May my words carry shame to him. May I be like a harasser and like a soother, in order that he pay, in order that it may be finished, in order that there come no serious result of the controversy. [Here the myth changes into a tulud, “pushing”.] The halupe speak, saying, “Let us return to our village in the Skyworld.” “There is a calling,” said Tumayaban. “Whence comes this call from above? Have you kin there?” “Yes,” said Bugan, “we have kindred above.” And the halupe ascend at Tataowang. They come on to Kulab. They continue to Gitigit. They continue to Pangibautan. They climb up to Nunbalabog. They listen for a calling at Baay and Pindungan. [These are villages in the vicinity of Urnbul, the village where the priest was performing the ceremony.] “Aha! the calling is at Umbul!” they say. They walk on the level at Panaangan. They descend at Iwakal. They come to Upupan. They continue to Tobal. They come out at Uhat. They wade at Nungimel. They go around the hill to Boko. They continue to Pugu. They climb at Takadang. They ascend to Domok. They walk on the level at Palatog. They listen for the calling. They hear it there. They travel on the rice dikes at Kabonwang. They wade at Tudunwe. They come round the hill at Umbul. They arrive and, “Why, it is Barton and Patikwal,” says Tumayaban. “Where are your refractory debtors?” “There is Kodamon. He does not pay his debts to us. Go and disperse yourselves in the vicinity of his house, and harass him continually with the remembrance of his debt, so that he may not sleep, even in the middle of the night. Make him ashamed. Soothe him (so that he will not be angry). Harass him so that he may think of nothing else than his debt; so that he will finish with it; so that he will sell his rice fields (in order to pay); so that he will give us his pigs, his money, his irons, his rice, and his rice fields.” [The priest blows and waves his hand in the direction of Kodamon’s house.] “Ooo-of! Wait there till I come in the morning.” The collector of a large fine performs an unpretentious series of ceremonies directed to the gods of animal fertility and growth. The fact that he has won out in collecting the fine shows that his star is in the ascendancy and that a more pretentious feast is not needed. Peace-making ceremonies.—A full account of these ceremonies would be too extended to give here. The following are two of the myths that are recited in the course of these ceremonies: (1) And it is said that the father of Amtalao of the Skyworld spoke to his son, saying: “Go down and cause the enemies of earth to make peace, in order that there be no longer coughings, and shortness of breath, and bleedings from the nose, and quick fatigue among them.” Amtalao packed his betels, put on his hip-bag, and took his spear in hand. He descended to Habiatan. [Here the myth goes into a detailed account of the places passed in the journey.] He arrived in Kiangan. He went to the house of Balitok [the hero ancestor of the people of Kiangan culture area]. He thrust the shod point of his spear handle into the flat stone used as a seat in front of the house. It crackled like a dry leaf. “You have spoiled the flat stone,” said Balitok. Amtalao kicked the pieces of stone with his foot. They all joined together as if never broken apart. “I did not spoil it,” said Amtalao. “Why is it, Balitok, that you do not make peace with your enemies? Is it that you wish to be afflicted by the hidit?” “I do not know how,” said Balitok. Amtalao went to the sons of Imbalitayan. “Make peace with Balitok, in order that ye be not afflicted with coughings and snorings and bleedings from the nose and shortness of the breath,” said he. And they caught their pigs and chickens, the sons of Imbalitayan, and the people of Kiangan, and Amtalao taught them to make peace. And when they had finished, Amtalao ascended into the Skyworld. “How many did you cause to make peace?” said his father. “There are no more enemies on earth,” said Amtalao. Even though the Ifugao travel far, they are safe. Even though spears be thrown, they do not scathe. No longer is there shortness of the breath, and labored breathing, bleeding from the nose, and coughings and quick fatigue. The people are like unto gold, which tarnishes not, like unto the waters of the river, which never become small, and like unto the dancing plumes of the cogon and runo grass. They talk and talk, and talk straight. They ask for what they want and get it.” Let it be so, not at Kiangan, but here; not then, but now; in order that there be no more shortness of breath and coughing and labored breathing [the priest’s will being that the benefits mentioned by Amtalao in the paragraph immediately preceding become existent]. (2) The Thunderer of the Skyworld was sitting on his lounging bench in the Skyworld. “Alas! why do the people keep fighting all the time?” he said. He took his spear in hand. He descended unto Kiangan. He went to the house of Balitok. “Why do you not make peace with the sons of Imbaluog?” said he. “I desire to make peace, but they will not,” said Balitok. “Come with me,” said the Thunderer. They went to the village of the sons of Imbaluog. The Thunderer shouted to them. They came down out of their houses, spears in hand, and carrying their shields. They advanced toward Balitok. The Thunderer was angry. “Why did the people of Kiangan offer to make peace, and ye would not?” shouted he. The Thunderer snorted. The branches fell from the trees. The sons of Imbaluog were blown to pieces. Their limbs were torn from their trunks and went hurtling hither and thither. And below every house was heard the wailing of the old women. And every woman’s head was encircled by mourning bands. Let it be so, not then, but now, with those that do not keep the peace! Let them be blown to pieces and scattered hither and thither, and may there be none to avenge them. The chewing of betels together by the reconciled enemies is the essential part of the peace-making ceremony. Three constituents are used in betel chewing: the betel leaf, the areca nut, and the lime. The priest takes position between the two (as yet) enemies. One of the enemies then gives the other an areca nut, and his courtesy is returned by his enemy giving him a betel leaf. Both are then supplied by the priest with lime. They proceed to chew betels then, and the priest prays as follows: “Ye are chewed, Betel Leaf, Areca Nut, and Lime. Let not them who were enemies be afflicted with coughings, shortness of breath, quick-coming fatigue, Ceremonies connected with the payment of large fines.—At the termination of a controversy in which a large fine is paid, the two parties perform the hidit, peace-making ceremonies, as a matter of self-interest. To leave them unperformed would be to subject themselves to the wrath of the hidit deities who would afflict them with tuberculosis, shortness of breath, etc. The peace so made is theoretical, oftentimes, rather than actual. Usually there is a great deal of ill feeling smoldering in the breasts of the controversants. He who pays any large fine invariably performs a general welfare feast soon afterward. To this feast he invites all the deities of the Skyworld, the Underworld, the Fabulous Region of the East and the Fabulous Region of the West. In addition, if he feels great resentment against the fine collector, he secretly performs the following ceremony: Tulud (Pushing).—“The Ender of the East Region sits on his lounging bench there. He hears a call. He arises and puts betels in his hip-bag and takes his spear in hand. He hesitates, and then starts westward. He comes on to Payya. [The priest “pushes” him, as in the preceding tulud, stage by stage through the following places: Ulikon, Hapid, Ulalahi, Lana, Kudug, Lingay, Balahiang, Lau, Bayukan, Ula, Tuktukbayahan, Kituman, Kiangan. From Kiangan onward the route is variable, depending on the village of the priest.] He arrives at [village]. He receives the chicken. He chops off its head. [The priest at this stage chops off the chicken’s head.] Even so [he says] I chop off the life of the fine collector. [The priest blows and swings his arm in the direction of the fine-collector’s house.] Travel thither, Ender, to the house of him who took from us the death blankets. Stay with him. If he goes to get wood, turn the axe into his body. If he travels, push him off the steep. If he sleeps, sleep with him. In the middle of the night stab him, and we will hear about it with the rising sun. For we are poverty stricken. We owed them no debt, yet they have taken our pigs and our chickens and our death blankets and our rice [etc.]. We are to be pitied, alas!” Other deities that may be sent against the fine collector are the Spider-webbed One, the Smotherer, Dysentery, the Short-winded One, the Trapper, the Twister. Appendix 3: ParricideA rather startling case was called before the Court of First Instance in Kiangan in December, 1913. Limitit of Ayangan was charged with having murdered his father. The phrase “Are you guilty or not guilty?” translated into Ifugao changes significance slightly, and stands “Are you at fault or not at fault?” With a candor almost pitiable, Limitit admitted the facts in the case, but pleaded “not at fault.” “He was my father,” he said. “I had a right to kill him. I am blameless, for I provided a generous funeral feast for him.” Interrogation developed that Dilagan, the father, was a spendthrift. He had raised a sum of money—possibly for the purpose of gambling—by pawning, balal, his son’s rice field. The son was angry, but Dilagan promised faithfully to redeem the field by planting time. But planting time came round, and Dilagan was unable to keep his promise and redeem the field. In a quarrel over this matter, the son lost patience and killed his father. So far as I am able to ascertain, his act is justified, or at the very least, condoned by his co-villagers. They excuse him on two grounds: First, the old man was worthless, and deserved killing for having wronged his son. Even though the damage done was not irremediable, it was probable that it would be repeated, and that he would impoverish his son for life. Second, the old man was Limitit’s father, and Limitit had the right on that account to kill him if he wanted to; at least it was the business of nobody else. The American court, if I remember aright, sentenced Limitit to life imprisonment. He died shortly after being incarcerated. Another case of parricide was that of Bayungubung of Kurug. He killed his father for the same reason that Limitit killed Dilagan: that is, for the wrongful pawning of a field. The essence of the attitude of the people in both these cases seemed to be that the son had the right to kill his father if the latter imperiled the family livelihood or position in society. It seems to us an inhuman doctrine. But remember that the be-all and the end-all of Ifugao existence is the family, and not the individual. With us, the opposite is true: the rights of the individual supersede those of the family. The fields in question had been handed down from past generations. The son in each case was responsible at the time of the parricide for the welfare of future generations of the family. The old man in each Besides these considerations, there is the principle on which Ifugao society is based: The family exists principally for the youthful and future generations of it. Appendix 4: Concubinage among the KalingasThe Kalingas are a tribe having a culture remarkably similar to the Ifugao. In respect of warfare, head-hunting, and social organization, it is an even more dazzling example of a barbarian culture, I believe. Concubinage is universally practiced by the wealthy. The concubine has a legal status. A man must secure his wife’s consent to take a concubine, but the consent is universally forthcoming. During a six months’ residence in Kalinga I became quite well acquainted with the unusually intelligent wife of a Kalinga headman. I asked her one day why the women permitted their men to take unto themselves additional wives. “Oh, that’s the custom of us Kalingas.” “I know it’s the custom. But I think it’s a poor one for you women who are so unfortunate as to be married to men who practice it.” “Why are we unfortunate? Their children can inherit none of his wealth. Our children get it all.” “Yes, but doesn’t it hurt you to see your husband running after other women?” “I never see it. The other women never come here. Or if they do come to the house it is as if they were perfect strangers. They have their own house.” “But you must know that your husband does leave you to go to these other women.” “Oh yes! But I don’t see it. Besides their children are subject to my children. If my children suffer injury, they fight to avenge them. If my children demand, they stand back of them. It is good to have a large family.” The logic of concubinage is embraced in this last reply, I think. It is an institution to render the family “strong to demand, and strong to resist demands.” A strong healthy Kalinga chief has usually two, often more concubines. He gives them rather limited material support: now and then a suckling pig to rear, a little rice to help out the year, work at good wages, yarn to keep them busy at the loom, a little capital for trading trips, and the like. He may help them a great deal, but they rarely cost him much. As indicated above, their children have no inheritance rights. |
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