Note 7 — Chapter I

[So great was the zeal of Arzaga and Isisigana that they devoted themselves to seeking out the heathen among those wild mountains, enduring privations, exposure, and sufferings, until the health of both was broken down. Arzaga was again attacked by a sickness which prostrated him, and died in 1707; his uncle held out three years longer, and was then called in from the field, in order to recruit his strength, but he was never able to return to his labors, and died in 1716, in the convent of Vava.7 In their place was sent to this mission field Fray Alexandro Cacho,8 in zeal and courage a worthy successor to them. He succeeded in converting a chief named Dinalavang, dreaded as well as renowned for his fierce and warlike disposition and for his skill in all military exercises; also a sister of this man, as valiant and dextrous as he, baptized as Doña Maria. Mozo gives an interesting account of the fierce and cruel practices of these savage tribes (whom he compares to the Huns), “which more than once I have rebuked, when I have been among those people.” “If they succeed in killing a person they try to drink his blood; and, cutting off pieces of his lungs, together with the testicles9 and other parts, they also draw out the entrails, and then divide these among themselves and eat them raw—not only to make themselves terrible, but also because they say it is a powerful medicine for exciting courage, fierceness, and fortitude in their battles. They also cut off the head, and carry it away in order to celebrate their festivals, with great gluttony and carousing, [filling the skull] with a sort of wine which they make from sugarcane and call ilang. Afterward, they take the grinders and teeth and set these in the hilts of their cutlasses; and, as a consequence, there is hardly any one in this tribe or in the Ibilaos whose cutlass is not adorned with many teeth of those whom he has killed, or who has not in his hut a collection of the skulls from human heads—this very thing inspiring them with greater courage when they fight, in the same way as it happened, as Virgil sings, to Æneas when he saw on his antagonist Turnus the scarf of his beloved Pallas. So these people, when they see the teeth of their own tribesmen on the sword-hilts of their opponents, fling themselves upon the latter like mad dogs; and from this may be readily inferred what degree of ferocity and barbarism theirs must be, and what sort of hardships and labors it will cost to free them from the power of the demon …. They greatly dislike arrogance in their neighbors; and they likewise abhor every sorcerer and wizard, a motive which makes them treat without mercy any one of these whom they seize, cutting him to pieces with their knives; and even at their feasts, and in the superstitious rites which they practice, they utter a thousand execrations against such persons, hurling at them a thousand curses, and swearing that they will not spare any one of them who may fall into their hands, [an oath] which they fulfil exactly.” Mozo describes the secret raids made by these people against their enemies, marching at night and attacking a defenseless village at daybreak; and he accuses them of aiding their ordinary weapons with a diabolical practice—“they throw into a hole in some creek a root and herbs which they carry, provided [for this purpose], and, by their using various magic spells which the demon has taught to them, so violent a wind is raised, and a tempest of rain, that with the noise thus caused they are not observed, and likewise are better protected from the villages against which they march.” He adds, “I do not relate fables;” and states that he has several times endeavored to restrain them from this devilish proceeding. Sometimes, he says, the proceedings are reversed, and the aggressors are, in their turn, surprised by those whom they have attacked, who then take revenge upon them. Mozo relates how, on one occasion, a hostile band of heathen attacked some Christians, and captured a loaded musket, its match still lighted; they examined it carefully, and, while handling it, incautiously let the match fall on the priming. The gun was discharged, killing some and crippling others of the group crowded around it; the survivors fled in terror, but afterward returned to the spot, and with a cord dragged the gun to their village and buried it in the ground. Learning that its owner lived in Bongabon, they immediately rated the people of that village as sorcerers, who had placed a powerful magic in the gun; and for more than fifty years they taught their children, as soon as the latter could speak, to avoid the dwellers in Bongabon as dangerous sorcerers.]