Laura Watson Benedict

Part II. The Formal Ceremonal


In the conduct of the more formal religious functions of the Bagobo, there appear a number of constant elements, which may be termed normal ceremonial reactions. Peculiar factors will necessarily combine to make up the ritual complex on occasions so distinct as that of a harvest festival, on the one hand, and of a human sacrifice on the other; furthermore, a wide range of variation in the manner of performing the same identical ceremony is to be found in different Bagobo groups. Nevertheless, there are everywhere to be seen certain distinct modes of response which characterize so regularly the more important of the rites that it is proper to group such responses under the head of typical ceremonial behavior.

General Character of Ceremonial

The orthodox time for the performance of a ceremony is determined by observation of the heavenly bodies. Festivals associated with planting and reaping take place when certain constellations appear in the sky, and it is probable that there are other ceremonial dates which are calculated by the stars; while the time for the drinking festival, called Ginum, is regulated strictly by lunar phases. ^^'^

The Bagobo have no permanent temples that function as common gathering places for religious rites. In preparation for the ceremony of Ginum, a large, well-roofed house is built for the accommodation of a great number of guests or else the house of the chief is used, temporarily, as a ceremonial house. Rice culture ceremonies are

^^* Among the natives of Minahassa, in former times, all undertakings, such as sowing, reaping, making clothes, procuring salt, had to be performed at definite times, and were forbidden at other times. Cf. P. and F. Sarasin: Reisen in Celebes, vol. I, p. 44. 1905.


held in the homes and in the fields of individuals; still other religious rites, as, for instance, purification ceremonies and marriage, take place at the border of a river or in the bed of a shallow stream; while the rite of human sacrifice is ordinarily performed in a retired place in the forest, or on the sea-beach. But, whatever the place chosen for a ceremony, the immediate spot where the priest must stand or sit for the recitation of prayers and the offering* of gifts is before an altar of recognized type — a subject which will be discussed in some detail in a later section.

The religious rites of the Bagobo are typically exoteric in character, for the ceremonial and the doctrine are the common property of the people. Not only are the young and the old of both sexes present in large numbers at practically all of the ceremonies, but set parts in any performance belong regularly to different social classes as determined by sex, by age, or by position in the family of the person giving the festival.

The distribution of the leading ritual parts is briefly as follows.
Old men offer the sacred food and drink to the gods at the main altar and perform accompanying rites; they cut the ceremonial bamboo poles, and afterward, while holding the poles, recount their exploits; they make arrangements for a human sacrifice; they perform those magical rites which are associated with the carving
of wooden figures and the planting of medicinal branches for the exorcism of evil spirits; they control the entire ceremonial.

The old women perform the altar rites at harvest, and make devotional recitations at certain other times; they make offerings of betel at wayside shrines to the buso and to spirits of the dead and repeat the accompanying prayers; they summon the anito and most frequently act as mediums; they direct many ceremonial details, and are often called into consultation with the old men; they exercise a general supervision over the religious behavior of the young people. Such priestly acts as the pouring of water over candidates at the bathing cereniony, the performing of a marriage rite, and the dedication to the gods of manufactured articles brought by the people, may be done by an old person of either sex who
is a recognized official.

It is the duty of young men to cut and shape bamboo for ceremonial vessels; to mix the ingredients of the sacred food and cook it in bamboo joints; to assist the old men at the altar in such matters as handing utensils, clearing away dishes, and elevating the


sacrificial food and drink to a high altar-shelf; to chant antiphonal recitations called gindaya; to sing other songs; to carry the burden of the agong playing; to perform certain dances; to help the girls in preparing and in serving the general feast, and in passing around sugar cane liquor.

To the younger women and girls fall such duties as assisting the old women at the out-of-door shrines and at the harvest altar by handing them areca-nuts and leaf-dishes as needed, and in other offices of a like nature; of singing many songs other than gindaya; of giving some assistance on the drums and agongs; of performing a great number of dances; of cooking, dishing and serving the banquet; finally, of stuffing rice by the handful into the mouths of the guests, with special attention to youths of the other sex.

Young people of both sexes go out together on the first day to gather leaves for the ceremonial leaf-dishes; together they make leaf-dishes; and they prepare jointly the torches of biau nuts — the boys splitting and sharpening long strips of rattan, on which the girls string the nuts. At rice-planting, all the men and boys make holes with digging-sticks, while all the women and girls drop the seed-rice.

Even small children have some parts assigned to them. During the preparatory days, they learn little dance-steps to the music of agongs, and one small agong is always played by a child; they have their special festival costumes of tiny trousers or skirts; on the last night, a small girl is sometimes deputed to remove the sprig of bulla from the waists of the women at a definite point in the ceremony; after a human sacrifice, the hands and feet of the victim are given to little boys, who must cut them into bits and bury the pieces.

Yet, however exact the assignment of parts, and however careful the preparation for a ceremony, the continuity of the proceedings is frequently interrupted by consultation among the old people about the manner of performance, and by anxious questioning as to whether some tabu is being inadvertently broken. They discuss; they gesticulate; they prompt the official who is reciting the prayers; one calls attention to some small blunder made in handling the sacred paraphernalia; another quotes a forgotten line. By no means may it be taken for granted that even to an aged and experienced Bagobo every detail of a ritual is automatically familiar. The ceremonial functionary is watched intently by several old people who


sit close to the right and to the left of him. each one ready to help, to advise, to correct, because it is well understood that even a minor omission, or a slight misstep, might result in weary months of illness, or tempt the attack of a mortal disease. For this reason, those responsible for the ceremony hold their attention at strain to secure a perfect ritual.

The dominant motive in all ceremonial is to drive sickness from the body and to prevent the approach of disease and death. This underlying intention is ever present, whatever the rite, and it is this which gives unity and coherence to many a series of ritual acts that, at first glance, appear to be strangely ill-assorted.

Fundamental Elements of Ceremonial

The type of behavior that characterizes Bagobo ceremonial is made up of a number of ritual elements, many of which are common to several of the ceremonies, and a few of which appear in practically all of them. It is only at the ceremony of Ginum that every one of these ritual elements may be observed.

Human Sacrifice.

The ceremonial putting to death of a human victim is called ixighuaga^ and is demanded by Bagobo custom on specific occasions, chief among which are the following:

At the festival of Ginum, the offering of a human sacrifice was anciently an integral part of the ceremony, though at present it is possible to substitute a fowl as the victim.

After the death of a chieftain or other notable individual of the tribe, slaves are killed to provide attendants for the deceased in the country of the dead. The husband sacrifices for a dead wife, a wife for her husband. For a chief, many victims may be offered but sometimes the number is small. Two slaves were killed for Datu Ayo at his death several years ago, as related by an eye-witness of my acquaintance.

A paghuaga forms an important feature at the installation of a datu, and is occasionally an element of the marriage ceremony.

At special crises — during an epidemic, when crops fail, when drought lasts for a long period, or when other misfortune overtakes the tribe — it is thought proper to find a suitable sacrifice to appease the anger of the gods, and there is some evidence to show that petitions to the datu to arrange for paghuaga may be proffered by any individual on the plea that his life activities are being inter-


fered with by the ghosts of relatives that will not be quieted.

In any one of the above cases, the victim is regularly a slave that has been secured by purchase or by capture; preferably, a poor, wretched slave is chosen, who, on account of some physical defect, is of little use for work.

Although this sacrificial rite is often a constituent element of Ginum, of funeral services, and so forth, yet, from another point of view, it may be regarded as a ceremonial unit by itself, and as characterized by the types of chanting, the form of altar, the ritual recitations, and several other elements that will be mentioned as common to many ceremonies. Furthermore, the special crises that may necessitate such a sacrifice do not necessarily coincide with the date of a festival, so that paghuaga may become an isolated ceremony.

Ceremonial Food.

There is set before the gods for their enjoyment certain foods having a ceremonial value, chief among which are chicken meat and a rice ritually called omok, which looks red in the raw grain, but becomes dark-colored, almost black, after boiling. grated cocoanut is mixed with the chicken and with the rice.
The sacred food may never be cooked in clay jars, but invariably in vessels of bamboo. At a certain point in the ceremony, after a period during which the unseen beings are supposed to have extracted the spiritual essence ^^^ of the food, the material part (the "accidents," if one may borrow a theological term) is eaten by men and adolescent boys. They told me that it made them '^good in the body," so that they "could not be sick." This is one of the very few privileges not enjoyed by women, who, however, eat at harvest the sacred omok, at which festival no sacrificial meat is mixed with the rice.

Ceremonial Liquor

A sacred drink, called halahha^ which is never used outside of ceremonial occasions, is offered to the supernatural beings with an appropriate ritual, and afterward passed about to be partaken of freely by everybody present at the festival.
I did not have an opportunity to observe the manufacture of balabba, but the process, as briefly described to me, consists of boiling sugar cane and treating the syrup thus obtained with the bark of a tree called hogis^ the liquor being then allowed to ferment in jars for a very long time before use. It is of rather thick consistency,

The Bagobo term for the essence of the food and drink that the gods enjoy is^


brownish in color, and extremely rich and sweet, having a flavor suggestive of molasses mingled with old rum. It is a pleasant tasting and refreshing beverage, and its intoxicating properties are not excessive. At the moment of offering to the spirits this sacred drink, the priest stirs it with a spray of fragrant manangid, and with a spoon made by twisting to the proper shape a fragment of bulla leaf. A liquor very similar to balabba, if not identical with it, functioned as the ceremonial drink of the Tagal people, in their pagan days. Bishop Aduarte makes interesting references to this use. ^^^

Betel Ritual.

No ceremony is complete without an offering of betel to one, or to all, of the three classes of supernatural beings — the gods, the buso and the spirits of the dead. When the occasion is one of a high ceremony, performed before a main altar, the areca-nuts ^^^ are sliced into lengthwise sections, just as in the customary manner for chewing, and each section is laid on a betel-leaf {huyo) ^^^ placed in a set position. A ceremonial sifting over the nuts and leaves of lime from a bamboo tube follows, the lime having been made by the usual process of calcining certain shells to a fine powder. The areca, betel and lime are afterward chewed by old people at the altar.

Another common form of making a betel offering is that in use at a hut-shrine, when a certain number of entire (that is, unsliced) areca-nuts are placed within the shrine with an appropriate ritual, but are never afterward taken away for chewing. There are other ceremonies when entire nuts are placed in leaf-dishes (kmudoc)

While working in the province of Pangasinan, in west-central Luzon, he wrote, in 1640, that "there were given up an infinite number of pieces of earthenware and a great deal of very old wine — for this is regarded as the thing consecrated to the devil; and no one dares touch or go near it except at the time of the sacrifice, and then only the minister who performs it. Aduarte: "His tori a.'* Blair and Robertson: op. city vol. 30, p. 186, 1905. A few pages further on, the kind of wine is specified: "These €hiefs were the very first to cause to be brought the vessels of Quila (this is a wine which they make of sugar cane, and when it has aged for some years it has the color of our amber wine). This they esteem very highly and keep with great care, using it at their feasts in honor of their idols." Ibid., vol. 30, p. 243.

^ ® ^ Areca catechu — known among foreigners as the betel-nut palm. The nuts, shaped much like olives, grow in  clusters just below the leaves at the top of bare, light-colored trunks that reach a height of 40 or 50 feet. The Bagobo call the tree mdmddn and a single nut, mama.

^ * ® Buyo — the Visayan name for the climbing plant, Piper betel, the leaves of which are used everywhere in the Islands for chewing with areca-nuts. The Bagobo call it monika. The plant is trained on sticks and grows to a height of several feet.


of liemp, since the use of hemp {ahaca) leaves, rather than of banana, prevails for ceremonial dishes. The shape of this little vessel has some resemblance to the keel of a boat, yet I cannot affirm that this effect is consciously produced. Before I had seen the ceremony, the Bagobo who told me about the kinudok remarked that they looked like boats. The word kinudok, so far as I know, is not etymologically related to any of the terms for native craft.

Offerings of Manufactured Products.

In addition to ceremonial gifts of food, drink and betel, the gods are honored by offerings of more intrinsic value: garments, weapons, ornaments, — new and beautiful, — all of which objects are brought in great quantities by the people, to be laid upon an altar or hung beside it, for a longer or a shorter period according to the type of altar, the occasion, and the nature of the gift. This subject will be discussed in connection with the remarks on altars in the following section.
I will here simply call attention to the salient points of interest at this ceremony of laying manufactured objects before unseen beings. First, the spirit or essence of the articles is enjoyed by the gods, and, possibly, becomes their permanent property; second, the material part of the objects thus dedicated becomes hallowed to such an extent that they may never be sold, or even given away, but must always remain in the possession of the individual owners who placed them on the shrines, — unless, indeed, they are left as permanent offerings, — severe sickness being the penalty for transgression of this rule; third, there is an expectation of large returns from the slight sacrifice made, since the deities who enjoy the gifts are urged, at the same time, to help the worshippers to gain riches or, as they say, "to get things."


The ceremonial lavation bearing the name of pamalugu is distinguished by several elements from bathing for purposes of pleasure or for cleanliness, either one of which washings is called padigtis. It is on fixed occasions that pamalugu is performed, — notably at Ginum and at marriage, — at which times men and women are effused by the priest in a prescribed manner, the water being applied by means of a bunch of green leaves and twigs having a medicinal value. Orientations according to a set form are made by the candidates upon whom the water is poured.
While the dominant intention of the rite is unquestionably that of purification, in the sense of expelling disease, the Bagobo recognize other advantages to be gained from the water and the magic greens.


They say that they make use of pamalugu to keep off sickness and to cure sickness; to drive anger from the heart; to get things and to grow rich. In other words, while every single rite has its own specific motive, yet there is a feeling, not too nicely defined, that any ceremony, properly performed, promotes in several directions the general well-being of the Bagobo.

Recitation of Ritual Words.

At each of the rites thus far mentioned (that is to say, at the formal presentation before the supernatural beings of human blood, of sacred food, of ceremonial liquor, of fresh betel, of artificial products, and also during the lavations) set
forms of words are uttered by the official functionary, some of which are short ritual formulae and others are prolonged liturgical recitations. The unseen personalities are apostrophised by name; the objects offered are mentioned, or even listed, class by class; and definite petitions are put up, the burden of which is that the approach of disease may be checked, that all buso may be banished from the ceremonial, and that the protecting gods may be present to help the Bagobo.

Ceremonial Chant.

An impressive element of the ceremonial is a peculiar form of chant called gindaya^ which, in its manner of presentation, is distinctly marked off* from other musical performances. I will give, first, a definition of gindaya offered by the Bagobo themselves, and add to that such observations as I made on different occasions. The Bagobo explain that gindaya is sung in a loud voice (in contradistinction to the ogan^ a low-voiced song accompanied by the guitar); that an even number of voices — two or four or six or eight — sing against the same number; that gindaya is sung at Ginum, but only on those nights when balabba is drunk; that no young men can sing in the gindaya unless they take hold of the bamboo posts, or of the spears tied to the bamboo; that they lay hold of the bamboo in order to make their voices sweet-toned.

My own records verify the above statement, except that sometimes a chant of one voice is answered back by one voice, and I have not heard more than two at a time sing against another two.
Often, again, the chants are given with slight volume of sound, not always in a loud voice; yet as compared to the soft singing of an ogan, which is much like humming, gindaya may be called loud, for the tones are pure and clear. In regard to the occasion, it should be noted that whenever a Bagobo wants to say that


something is peculiar to ceremonial, he always says it is done "at Ginum," that being the most important festival. Gindaya is, however, a feature of marriage and of human sacrifice, and it may be of some other ceremonies.

On the three nights that I heard the gindaya, at two celebrations of Ginum on different mountains, it was always chanted by very young men, and preferably by the sons and by the brothers' sons of the datu giving the festival. The youths who take part in gindaya sing with an arm uplifted and hand clasping a bamboo post or one of the cross-timbers. This position is mandatory and must be held until the singer is relieved by another, however long the chant. While one hand is thus raised above the head, the other holds lightly over the lips a corner of the singer's head kerchief, or an end of one of the tankulu that hangs draped from the rafters above. The obligation to keep the lips covered, however, is sometimes complied with in a somewhat perfunctory manner by merely holding the tankulu near the mouth.

The subject matter of the gindaya is in part narrative, in part descriptive, in part devotional, with many mythical allusions throughout the song or story. Of the three or four texts that I secured, the subjects include the celebration of Ginum with special reference to the activities attending the preparation, and a dialogue between two men who have met at the feast, which possibly preserves some tradition of mythical ancestors. Just as is the case with other songs of the Bagobo, and with their long romances, the impression conveyed in gindaya is of a metrical form — an effect due perhaps to the quantity observed, as well as to the slight pauses made between groups of words, and to a fairly uniform accent on the penultimate syllable. There is a tendency, also, to insert extra prefixes and suffixes, and to duplicate entire words as if to fill out the measure of the lines. In the chanting of gindaya, only a very few intervals are used (the second and the fifth predominating) and the notes are long sustained. One is reminded of the intoning of convent offices, or the singing of psalms in Gregorian tones. There is no instrumental accompaniment to gindaya.

Agong Music.

Ceremonial music is furnished by the beating of the agong — a large percussion instrument of bronze, ^^^ resembling

*^' Professor William Campbell, of the Department of Metallurgy of Columbia University, was good enough to look at one of the little bells that are cast by the Bagobo


roughly a deep inverted pan with a bottom curving slightly to the convex and having a big knob-like protuberance at the central point.
Agongs are of Chinese manufacture and are imported into the islands from Singapore in considerable numbers. The wild tribes gladly barter away their possessions for these instruments, one of which is worth, according to size, from twenty to thirty pesos.
A datu or a Bagobo of wealth may own as many as twelve, twenty, or even a larger number of agongs; if he is to hold a festival, and owns only two or three instruments, he borrows as many as he needs for the occasion. The agong is the standard unit of barter in trading valuable objects, and in calculating large debts and marriage dowries.

The tool for striking is the tap-tap^ a short wooden stick, of which the head end is coated with rubber to give the proper
rebound, and covered with cloth, while the handle of many a fine tap-tap is often richly carved. Unlike the Moro, who keeps his agongs in a long frame with an individual socket for each instrument, at which frame he sits down to play, the Bagobo hangs his agongs by loops of rattan from a rod of bamboo and stands facing the convex sides of the instruments during his performance. With left thumb and index finger, he lightly grasps the central knob of the agong, or holds with his left hand the suspending strings of rattan, while his right hand wields the tap-tap. At a ceremony, some expert musician carries the melody and handles in his performance all but a few of the instruments, while his assistants on the remaining agongs have but to accompany their leader by making their strokes exactly with his, at set intervals. For example, if there are eleven agongs, the head performer plays on eight of them, and perhaps three persons — a man, a woman and a child — assist him. The leader must be a skilled artist whose training is begun in early boyhood, for they all say that years of practice are required to make a good agong player. But a man who has a feeling for music and has received the necessary edu-

from metal obtained by melting down old agongs. He informed me that the alloy was of copper and tin, with a high percentage of tin, and with the addition, possibly, of a little lead.

In Pigafetta's First Voyage around the World, 1519 — 22, agongs are mentioned. "Those gongs are made of—metal and are manufactured in . . . China. They are used in those regions as we use bells and are called agong.*' 3ld.lv ^".a, "^oNoev^ton- ^ v. 13, \o- i^l.

Mr. Cole states that the agongs he saw at Sibulan were gongs of copper. Op. cii., p. 102. 1913.


cation plays with wonderful ease, while at the same time he leaps from one agong to another and often executes the steps of some graceful dance in rhythm with his beat. Again, he will dance away from the agongs, tap-tap in hand, perform fancy steps, then dance back to his place and resume the strokes without the slightest break in the measure of the music, and without a check to the even swing of his dance.

When drums are present, a drum call opens each set performance, and the beating of the drums continues for a short space after the agongs cease playing.

At every ceremony where there is general dancing, agongs furnish the music, but there are times when Vagonggo is given without dancing, unless it be the dance of the player; such occasions, to cite an instance, as the auspicious moment of bringing in the ceremonial bamboos, when the agong performance that immediately follows is manifestly a sacred rite.

Dancing and Costumes.

The dances (siimayo) at ceremonies do not appear to differ from those performed on ordinary social occasions. In my own house, at an evening gathering, with an audience of perhaps twenty Bagobo, dances have been performed by the youth Saliman quite as elaborate and varied as any to be observed at ceremonies. Nor are the motives different, if one may draw an inference from the names of dances, and from the steps and the series of postures of the performers. Of course, at ceremonies there is a more definite order observed in the sequence of dances, and in the appearing of individuals one by one. The girls ordinarily take the initiative, and for some time hold the floor; again, the initial dance is given by men alone, wearing the tankulu.
Soon, both women and men are dancing, each one individually, never in couples, every dancer with eyes bent downward, intent on his or her own steps and attitudes, yet a collision rarely occurring between two performers, although the space reserved is always extremely small in proportion to the number of dancers — a floor of ten by twelve feet being ample space for a score or more men and women. Many motives are drawn from nature; others from human interests, such as war and love; others have a devotional significance. Here are a few characteristic titles of dances that I have seen at different times, the explanations of which were eagerly offered, without question on my part, by Bagobo young men and girls at my side.


*-Baliti," representing the quivering of the leaves of the baliti tree:

"Karamag to kawayan," the leaves of a bamboo swaying in the wind (danced by a man);

"Bukason," a snake dance;

*'Tibarun," and "Manok," bird dances (performed by two women);

"Bulayan," a descriptive dance to express fear of the Atas (performed by two girls);

'^Kulagsoy penek ka kayo," a squirrel running up the trunk of a tree (danced by one man);

••'Ug-tube," the god-brother in the sky (a girls' dance in honor of the god-brother);

"Salangayd," a dance for the god of that name (performed by a man).

The dancers, both men and women, wear their usual full dress costumes made from hemp and from cotton textiles, elaborately embroidered and beaded. The "magani" wear tankulu twisted about their heads, while youths who have not yet killed anybody have cotton kerchiefs woven in bright stripes and decorated with beaded and tasseled edges. Leglets and armlets of brass and of vegetable fibre are generally worn by the men, and those of the wealthier class are gorgeous in their wide, richly-beaded belts and enormous ear-plugs made of discs of pure white ivory.

Certain hair ornaments are regularly worn by women dancers, and to appear without these ornaments would be extremely bad form. One is a wooden comb in the shape of a half-moon, decorated in carved designs, with beads stuck in wax, and with heavily-beaded tassels. Another is a long brass pin called loUnge that is run vertically into the back coil of hair. It is decorated with tufts of dyed goat's hair tipped with brilliant dowm from birds' plumage and tied to the pin with fine brass ware. The clusters of bright-colored goat's hair and feathers bob and wave in time with the steps of the dancer in a very effective manner.
There is one essential accessory to the costume of a woman performing a ceremonial dance, and that is the wide closed scarf called salughoy. This scarf, worn diagonally across the right shoulder and under the left arm-pit, has the daily utility function of supporting the baby or of holding needlework and parcels; but at a festival this scarf becomes an aesthetic element that figures prominently in the dance. As she dances, the girl clasps the salughoy with both hands and holds it out loosely from her body, or she removes it entirely and lets it drape freely from her hands. It is a pretty sight to see her swaying her body from side to side in


rhythm with her steps, while swinging the scarf in soft waves of motion that follow the curves of her form as she turns and bends, in a series of balanced movements, to the right hand and to the left.

The Feast.

Near the close of every Bagobo ceremony, or immediately following it, there is served a generous meal, which, in view of the abstemiousness of every-day fare, might properly be called a banquet. The regular festival foods, differing somewhat according to the ceremonial occasion, include roast venison, pig-fat, boiled fish, grated cocoanut and boiled white rice. At Ginum, the fish is slivered, mixed with grated cocoanut and pressed into moulds between leaves held in the palms of the hands; and at this festival the dishes are made of pieces of hemp-leaf, curved at one end and fastened by a bit of pointed rattan. The guests are served seated on the floor, and a separate dish is given to each. During the preparation of the food, nobody tastes a morsel, for the fast since the preceding meal, however long, must not be broken until the moment that all the company begin simultaneously to enjoy the feast.


During the nights immediately preceding a great ceremony, and in some cases, as at harvest,* on the night following the main ceremonial, it is customary to consult the gods through the instrumentality of a priestess, or of some other person who acts as medium. ^^^

Various Types of Altar

The Bagobo recognize several types of altar, fairly distinct in function, chief among which are the following: Tambara, Tigyama, Balekat, Sonaran, Buis, Parabunnian. Roughly grouped from the structural aspect, the above-named types include four classes of altar, which may be distinguished as: (a) Bamboo prayer-stands {tamhara); (b) Hanging altars {tigyama and balekat); (c) Agong altars (sonaran); (d) Hut-shrines (btiis and parahunnidn).

Bamboo prayer-stands called tambara. This is a form of altar to be seen everywhere, since it functions as a family altar, as an out-of-door shrine, and in various associations with ceremonial worship of a more formal type. The tambara consists of a small

^ ® ® See Part III. "Every-day forms of religious response."


bowl of heavy white crockery, supported by an upright rod of light bamboo {halekayo) from three and one-half to four feet in height, the rod being split down several inches from the top into four forks which are spread out and bound with rattan at the center of parting so as to form a rest for the bowl. Tied to these branching splints of the standard, one often sees slender leaves from plants that possess a magical virtue, especially those that are fragrant, and also flowering sprays called hagehe from the areca palm. Bands of rattan fasten the upright standard to one of the timbers of the wall, in the case of the house altar, while a tambara in use out- of-doors has its bamboo rod fixed in the ground. That the bowl is the essential part of this altar, and that it is the tambara proper should be noted, the technical name for the standard being huditbi.
When a tambara is set up in any home, the men cut the bamboo for the huditbi and the women place the bowl. In some houses there are two bowls, each in its own standard, and occasionally there are three, side by side against the wall. To this little family shrine recourse is had in case of sickness, when areca-nuts, betel- leaf and old ornaments are placed in the bowls with a prayer to one or another of the diwata; for a bamboo prayer-stand may be dedicated to a diwata of the house, a diwata of the hearth, the personal gods of the family, or to some other protecting spirit.

This same type of altar '^^ functions at several ceremonies, notably at the feast of Ginum, on which occasion tambara are erected at the edge of the river, or in the bed of a stream^ for the devotions in connection with lustration. Other tambara are set up by the

^^^The tambara probably represents one of the most primitive altars of the Bagobo, since it functions in such a number of distinct ceremonies. We find this type of altar mentioned in the old mythical romance recited by mountain people, as well as in stories that may be of more modern composition. Of. op. cit.^ Jour. Am. Folk-lore, vol. 26, pp. 28, 52. Jan.— March, 1913.

An altar somewhat similar in form is used by Peninsular Malays, among whom Skeat found, along the wayside, shrines where incense was burned in little stands made of bamboo rods, one end of the rod being "stuck in the ground and the other split into four or five, and then opened out and plaited with basket work so as to hold a little earth." Cf. W. W. Skeat: op. cit., p. 67. In one case, I have seen the half shell of a cocoanut used in place of crockery, and this may have been the ancient receptacle. The tambara is referred to by Father Gisbert in the following words; "When they are sick, they perform the diuata in their tamharo. That consists in a dish on top of a bamboo which is fixed in the ground, on which they place buyo, bonga [areca], lime, and tobacco, while they say to their god: *We offer thee this. Give us health.'" Blair and Robertson: op. cit., vol. 43, p. 237. 1906.


wayside; and still others in the Long House to receive offerings that have been on the agongs, and to serve as centers for ritual recitations. Tambara thus used tend to be placed singly in different spots, rather than in pairs. When a human victim is to be sacrificially slain, it is customary to set up near the place of sacrifice a tambara, where betel may be offered and prayers repeated.

It is not unlikely that in former times these bamboo stands were regularly placed at centers of special industries to insure the success of the process and the protection of the spirits. I have seen in Talun two of these bowls in their rods of bamboo standing at the foot of the bellows of a blacksmith's forge, with two old and blackened brass bracelets in the bowls, while on the left-hand side of the bellows hung a small parcel of charcoal wrapped in a bit of petati which the blacksmith called medicine (bawi) for the forge.

Regarding the final disposition of objects placed on the tambara, one hears statements that seem contradictory, for the same Bagobo will at one time tell you that gifts put in the bowls for the diwata must be left there always, while the next day he assures you that the offerings may be taken away after one night, but must never be sold. My own observations on Bagobo behavior wherever gifts to the gods are concerned, correlated with information given me by individuals, suggest the following explanation. Offerings made on these bamboo prayer-stands are of three classes.
a) Agricultural products, particularly areca-nuts, betel-leaf and tobacco which, once placed on the shrine, may never be removed, but are left to dry up, to decay, or to be blown away.

b) Old objects believed to have become automatically sacred on account of age, and hence are called ikut^ — such as brass armlets, fibre leglets, little bells, small trinkets in general that may be laid in the bowls, and old spears and warshields that are fastened to the wall or stood up near the shrine. Such objects, once offered on a tambara, belong permanently to the gods and must remain there.
It would appear that such gifts are not frequently made, for the accumulation of them at any one tambara is small. Indeed, there are few Bagobo wealthy enough to be able to make pious disposition of manufactured articles that are still of material value. What I have been told of the essence or soul (gimokud) of manufactured objects leads me to the conclusion that when the material part has become old and useless to the owner, the spiritual part is in no whit injured, but may confidently be offered to the spirits for their enjoyment.


c) Articles of real value, which are habitually laid before the unseen beings on ceremonial occasions — newly-woven textiles, beaded garments, embroidery, fine weapons, ^'^ rich ornaments.
Such offerings are hung over a tambara or beside it (the smaller ornaments being laid in the bowls) for one night only, and on the following morning returned to their respective owners. Thus hallowed, they must remain in the possession of the owner during his lifetime. '^^

Hanging Altars.

Tigyama. In some houses there is no tambara, but in place of it there is said to be a hanging structure called tigyama that functions as the family shrine. This form of shrine I have not seen. According to the description given me, it consists of a white plate or large saucer, called innga^i^ suspended by rattan from some point just above the line where the wall meets the slope of the roof. ^'^^ This altar belongs to Tigyama, the spiritual protector of the family. When any member of the household is sick, they put into the dish one areca-nut and one betel-leaf, and say: "Where are you, Tigyama? I am preparing this areca-nut for you." Offerings placed in the dish for Tigyama may never be taken away.


Another type of hanging altar in use in Bagobo households is the balekat. This consists of one or more piles of cups and saucers, ^'^ of uniform size, suspended from the timbers of the roof by strong bands of rattan which, meeting under the lowest dish, form a hammock-like brace for the entire set of sacred vessels.
From the structural aspect, the balekat might appear like an enlarged and slightly modified tigyama, but functionally the balekat occupies a unique place in the religious life of the group, for it is not only a family shrine, but a ceremonial altar of high ritual

^'^ There seems to be involved here an animistic principle exactly opposite to that held by the Toradja of central Celebes, who, according to Sarasin, oifer to the spirits spear-points, smith's tools, etc., modeled from white wood, fearing that if the unseen beings should make use of the iron implements, they would take away the soul of the metal and render it weak and worthless/* Cf. Reisen in Celebes, vol. 1, p. 230.

^'^ Unfortunately, I failed to ascertain what disposition was made of such articles after the death of the original owner. It would be an interesting point for investigation.

^'^ The place for the tigyama plates is said to be "under the gaso" that is to say, below the strips of light bamboo that run crosswise of the roof and form its lighter framework.

^ " It is probable that the dishes used in each of these types of altar are of Chinese importation. The Chinese have been the chief traders in the islands for a very long period, and the dishes used at shrines in the ceremonial rites of the northern islands of the archipelago, from early times, are referable to the Chinese.


significance. It is put up in honor of the all-knowing god whose name is Tolus ka Balekat, and it is before this altar, not before the tambara or tigyama, that the culminating act of the Ginum is performed. At this time an accessory element is added which heightens the ceremonial value of this altar, and temporarily extends its capacity as a receptacle for offerings. On the last day of the festival, a broad shelf of wood is swung from an elevated part of the roof by rattan hangers, in a position directly in front of the balekat. This shelf bears the name of tagudn ha balekat^ its function being to hold, for a short period, the sacrificial food and the sugar cane liquor that are offered to divine beings. This temporary rotable is so closely associated with the main altar that it is not unusual to hear it called simply balekat, and whatever is placed there is said to be put on the balekat itself.

In the matter of offerings, the situation is much the same as with the tambara. One class of gifts consists of very old ornaments and weapons that are rarely offered, but, once dedicated, can never be taken back; the other class includes objects of intrinsic value and newly-made articles that are hung around the balekat for one night, particularly on ceremonial occasions, and then retained always in the possession of those who offered them. It is said that if a man should sell a tankulu that has hung on the balekat, "he would be dead," and the case is the same with other such gifts. An interesting problem is suggested as to whether the balekat was the primitive shrine of the home, and was later utilized for group festivals; or whether we should take it to be primarily a ceremonial altar and secondarily a family shrine.

Agong-altars, called Sonaran.

At Ginum and at the harvest festival, a temporary altar bearing the name of sonaran plays an important part. It is formed by one large agong, or by several of these instruments placed together on the floor, on which is piled the rich collection of objects that are brought at the rite of Sonar, as offerings to Mandarangan and to the anito. At this function,
the sugar cane liquor is ceremonially drunk, and an interview with the gods through a priestess takes place. On one occasion, however,
I have seen an agong in use as the altar for the sacrificial rites that occur on the last night of the festival. All fine textiles, swords, knives and ornaments, which are heaped in ample quantities on the agong-altar, are returned, at the conclusion of a ceremony, to the individuals who brought them, to be kept always in their


possession ; or, again, objects taken from the agongs may be hung for one night upon the tambara ^^^ and then returned to the owners. '^^
They may never be sold, "because they have been on the agongs."

Hut-shrines, These include buis^ ^"'^ which I shall call "buso- houses;" and parahimnidn^ or "rice-altars."

Buis or BusO'houses, Little huts, three or four feet in height, of a pattern similar to Bagobo living-houses, are erected at the opening of a Ginum festival on the grounds in the immediate vicinity of the Long House. They are often placed in natural or artificial thickets, at points that command the approaches from the river and at turns of the paths leading to mountains trails — obviously strategic positions with reference to unseen foes. The buis has a roof, and a floor that is raised on little posts; there may be three walls, but the front is always left open. On the floor, or on the ground below, the Bagobo put areca-nuts and betel-leaf for the Tigbanua and for the rest of the buso, and, on a particular evening, formal rites are paid to these evil beings, with the distinct intention of preventing them from breaking into the festival house and thus vitiating the good effects of the ceremony.

I am told that some Bagobo families keep little houses of this type standing continually near their homes and that they call them by the same name — buis — but I have, seen them only at Ginum.

Parabunnidn or Bicesoivmg Altars. A hut- shrine is set up in one corner of a field on the occasion of the annual rice sowing, for the purpose of securing a good crop through the favor of Tarabume,

^'* Possibly the intention is to give the spirits a more prolonged period of enjoyment of the offerings; and there may be also a feeling that the object becomes doubly hallowed by its association with the two altars. Most of the objects, however, are returned directly from the agongs to the owners.

^'^ It is elsewhere noted that gifts dropped into the agong containing water are not returned, but become the property of the priestess who utters an oracle at the ceremony before an agong-altar. Cf. pp. 127 — 128.

* ' ® In its broadest sense, the term buis includes all these little ceremonial huts in which offerings for unseen beings are placed; the house structure of the parabunnian being sometimes called buis in distinguishing this element from the magic plants, the wickets, the bowls, etc. But it is buso-houses that are regularly designated as buis, and it is in this stricter sense that I am here employing the term. For an account of the devotional offices performed before the buis, see p. 108. Hut-shrines of a similar type seem to have been in use among the early Filipino. Chirino writes that the Visayan had, as shrines, little houses with only roof and ground floor at the entrance to their villages. Blair and Robertson: op. cit,, vol. 12, p. 268. 1904.


the god of growing rice. The parabunnian ^^^ is about the size of the buis, or smaller, and often without any floor, ^^^ the offerings of betel and brass ornaments being then laid on the ground or in a little bowl. Magic plants or branches are stuck in the earth close to the house, each of which has an influence upon the growth of rice plants. Every rice-field has its own parabunnian. The areca-nuts, the betel-leaf, and the metal ornaments are left in the bowl until harvest, after which festival the bowl and metal objects are carried into the house and kept until the next rice-sowing, when the same bowl and the same ornaments are taken out to a new parabunnian. At harvest, there is put into a hut-shrine known as roro a small portion of rice representing the first fruits, together with areca-nuts and betel-leaf, as a thank-offering to the diwata and to certain clusters of stars; but I am not able to state definitely, from observation, whether this is a shrine distinct from the parabunnian, or whether there are two functional names for the same little house.

In addition to the devotions at the above-mentioned altars of fixed types, it is customary to make temporary shrines on the ground — close to the wayside, or under some great tree — by merely laying down areca-nuts in leaf-dishes which are arranged in a somewhat definite .order. Such gifts are meant for gods, or for buso, or for the spirits of the dead, and are offered with a simple intention of preventing disease or of curing it; the unseen being for whom the gift is designed being invariably stated by the person who lays down the offering.


Festival of Drinking called Gimim

Introductory Remarks, The word ginum (inum) means "a drinking," but whether the primary association was with the drinking by the gods of the blood of the sacrifice, or the drinking by the people of the ceremonial sugar cane liquor, is not evident. Both elements now stand out clearly in consciousness. The sacrifice of a slave, a fact at present concealed in deference to the attitude of

^ " The root, biinni, means "to plant,*'

* ' "^ Some Bagobo use the Bila-an type of rice-altar, which has a floor.


the new government, has been one of the essential rites of the festival from remote times.

It is for the satisfaction of three of four deities, and not, as is commonly reported, for Mandarangan alone that a human victim is offered at Ginum. The worshipful meetings called manganito bring out the fact that the Bagobo consider both the god known as Tolus ka Balekat and the Malaki t'Olu k'Waig to be interested in the sacrifice of a man at this time. This point is mentioned in anticipation of the description of human sacrifices, because such an offering is the central act of Ginum, which gives color to the minor rites. In one sense, the ceremonies of the first three days may be regarded as leading up to the fourth day and as protective of those final ceremonies, since one of the salient objects of the preliminary rites is the warning off of demons from the Long House, lest they disturb the celebration on the last day.
Prom another standpoint, however, it may be noted that a rite like Pamalugu (lavation) is a unit in itself, and so is the agong ceremonial. These rites are performed with motives distinct from those which permeate the peculiarly sacrificial acts of the main day. One hears the ceremonial discussed from different points of view by different Bagobo. It is stated by one that the Ginum is celebrated for the Tolus ka Balekat. This is true, particularly, of the central rites of the fourth day, where the fundamental idea is that of the bloody and the bloodless sacrifice. When Datu Oleng, however, viewed the ceremonies of the entire four days as a unit, he said: "We now have a festival because we make offerings (tawer) ^''^ to the gods; this year we make the Ginum to be kept from sickness and from other bad things."

Definite values are associated with the religious acts of Ginum: the gods are honored; the demons are appeased ; diseases are cured; threatened sickness is averted; prosperity and increase of wealth are assured to the family giving the festival, and to all participants who share in the rites and who make gifts to the gods in the prescribed manner. ^^^

The time for the ceremony of Ginum is variable. Datu Imbal told me that it was often given soon after the sprouting of the

^ ' ^ Tawer is a Malay word signifying, "to offer the price," "to make a bargain/'

^ ^ ** In Minahassa, sacrificial feasts are held to ward off sickness, and to prevent failure

of crops, as well as to secure abundant harvests, long life, courage and other good things. Cf. P. and F. Sarasin: Reisen in Celebes, vol. 1, p. 44. 1905.


rice, though his own, in 1907, was held three days before the expected sprouting. I myself attended one Ginum in May (Imbal's^ Ginum), another in August, and I knew of another, at Bansalan, that was given in September. As a matter of fact, any one of the following times is permissible for the celebration: in January, *^* about the time of the clearing of the fields, or soon after; one month after the sowing; a few days before the sprouting; soon after the sprouting, or when the rice plants have grown to some height.

The above dates indicate a range of months from January to September, inclusive, and possibly even through October, when this festival may properly be held. The rice is ordinarily sown in the months April, May and June, and harvested in November or December according to the date of planting. The Ginum must be held during the bright fortnight of the moon, preferably when she is new in the west, or full in the east, or at the close of her first quarter.

While any man of wealth who is able to give the ceremonial and to provide entertainment for the guests is at liberty to do so, yet the Ginum is most often conducted in the home village of a head datu who presides over a group ofrancherias. A Ginum would not occur in the same village oftener than once a year, or biennially; but at one or another place in the Bagobo territory there is likely to be a Ginum every few months. If the chieftain has a large house, ^^'^ the festival would probably be given there; but on this point I have not definite information. This was the ancient Filipino usage. The regular Bagobo custom is to build a

^ ^ * I was told that the Ginum was often held in January, and this answers, exactly, to the time mentioned by Datu Tonkaling to Mr. Cole — "when there is plenty of rice in the granaries." Op. cit., p. 111. For the ceremonial at the season of clearing the fields, see account by the same writer, pp. 85 — 86. See also Miguel de Loarca: "Relacion de las Yslas Filipinas." Blair and Robertson: op. cit.^ vol. 5, p. 165. 1903.
This author so characterizes a Visayan ceremonial that it appears to correspond to that of the Bagobo at clearing time. The Visayans, he says, "set apart seven days when they begin to till their fields, at which time they neither grind any rice for their food, nor do they allow any stranger, during all that time, to enter their villages, for they say that that is the time when they pray to their gods to grant them an abundant harvest." When the Ginum is held in January, the clearing rites would apparently precede it by a brief interval.

^^'^ For the great four days of the Tagal festival, they used the large house of their chief, dividing it into three compartments; and duriog those four days the house was called a simbahan (temple). Of. Juan de Plasencia, O.H.F.: "Customs of the Tagalogs,. 1589." Blair and Robertson: op. cit., vol. 7, pp. 185—186. 1903.


special house, called dakul bale (big house), which is long in proportion to its width. It is also called "house with a good roof," as special care is taken to make the roof tight and secure. The whole house is strongly built, having walls of balekayo firmly bound with rattan, and a double floor of split bamboo. The roof is closely thatched with meadow-grass or with nipa. No private house is built with like care, and it would be in harmony with the character of the rites to assume that the festival house is made secure primarily to keep out those evil beings whose presence at the ceremonial is feared. The ceremonial house, which I shall call the Long House, is placed at the edge of the village, near the opening of the trail leading down the mountain. At the time of the great festival, the Long House serves also as a guest house, for the entertainment of a great number of visitors. ^^^

The Ginum here described was given by Datu Oleng, the distinguished chief of the native district of Talun, at his home village called Mati, situated on the summit of Mount Merar. Oleng died at an advanced age, several months after this (his last) Ginum.

Chronology of the Preparation, and of the Four Main Days of the Festival. On account of ill health, and the added infirmities of old age, Datu Oleng had retired from the exercise of the active duties of chieftainship, and his eldest son, Ido, was holding the position of executive datu. Temperamentally, he was not as well fitted as his father to plan and to organize large affairs, and somehow he failed to lay in the necessary supplies in time for the festival. This was one reason for the long delays that occurred during the preparation, and even after the formal opening. Possibly, too, there may have been another cause. Some weeks before this Ginum, I heard that the boy had been picked out for the sacrifice. "Whether or not he was offered up at that time, I do not know. My arrival might easily have upset the original plan, to the extent of requiring secrecy in making the sacrifice, with

^*^In central Celebes, the ceremonial house, called LobOt has a variety of functions, as enumerated by the Sarasins. "Diese Lobo's dienen verschiedenen Zwecken zugleich. Einmal sind sie der angenommene Wohnsitz der Dorfschutzgeister, Anitu, und in dieser Eigenschaft konnen sie als Tempel oder Geisterhauser bezeichnet werden; dann aber werden in ihnen alle wichtigen Beratungen, Versammlungen und Festlichkeiten der Dorf bewohner abgehalten, sie dienen auch als Ratshauser; drittens finden darin Passanten eine Jnterkunft und einen Herd zum Abkochen, und damit erfiillt der Lobo auch den Dienst «iner Herberge." P. and F. Sarastn: op, cit.y vol. ], pp. 216 — 217. 1905.


the necessary change of time, place, and so forth. Such change would have entailed the long conferences and discussions always required among Malay people when anything out of the ordinary occurs; or, if the human victim were not slain, a number of interviews with the gods must have taken place, to persuade them to accept the substitution of a cock. The utterances of the medium at the seances that I attended showed that an undercurrent of intense anxiety was accompanying the strong efforts then being made by the Bagobo to please the new American Government, and at the same time properly to pacify the ancient gods. The entire well-being of the group hung upon the punctilious performance of every rite of the Ginum, and particularly in the matter of the sacrifice. On the other hand, there would be the utmost danger if the sacrifice were discovered by us foreigners, with our inability to realize the traditional necessity for the rite. In December of the same year, when a human sacrifice was certainly offered in Talun, at which time the event was betrayed by some native anxious to put himself in good standing with the local authorities, the excitement and the strict governmental investigation that followed fully justified the earlier fears apparent in the Talun group. The Bagobo were at this time meeting a severe crisis in their tribal history.

Thus Ido's failure to secure cocoanuts and fish may not have operated as the sole cause for the delays and the apparent tendency toward procrastination in getting ready for the Ginum. The last change of date for the main ceremony, that is, from the 18th to the 19th of August, was due to religious scruples attendant upon the occurrence of an earthquake shock on the third day of the rites.

So, for one and another reason, it came about that the Ginum which was formally opened on the evening of August 14th and normally would have closed after sunrise on the 18th was prolonged until after the sunrise of the 20th. Yet the relative sequence of the rites was exactly preserved. There was simply an inter- polation of one day, and a part of another, on which there were no ceremonies — the first interpolation being that of the twenty-four hours following the evening of the 15th 5 the second, of a period from sunset on the 17th until the afternoon of the 18th.
These remarks are made in this introductory section in order to make clear the chronology which immediately follows.

At Talun, there were four days set apart for the Ginum cere-


monies, and each was characterized by definite ritual performances.
It may possibly be that some rites are interchangeable as to days, on different years. As to that, I heard no statement; but Oleng* listed the following acts as belonging to the first three days.

On the First Day, the men and women go out for abaca leaves and for areca-nuts. The First Night, called Tig-kanaijan (the beginning), is the regular opening of the Ginum, when a very little balabba (sugar cane wine) is drunk, when t'agong-go (beating of agongs) and sumayo (dancing) begin, and when the leaf-dishes are made.

On the Second Day, the men bring back areca-nuts, and the bamboo is cut for the sekkadu (water-flasks). The Second Night is called tii Dim Dukilum:, at this time the preliminary Awas is performed, and there is t'agong-go and sumayo (agong-beating and dancing). On this night, no balabba is drunk; no gindaya is sung.

On the Third Day, no man may Avork. The people wash in the river at the Pamalugu rite; the main Awas is said, and the Tanung branches are put "in the way," to keep the buso that makes men fight from coming to the Ginum.

With this preliminary explanation, I will now give the main events on the actual dates as they took place, from the day of my arrival at Talun until the close of the Ginum.

July 25. The date first set for Ginum; the moon is full, but supplies are not laid in.

July 26. Ido intends to start for the coast to get dried fish, cocoanuts and other supplies, but is detained on one and another pretext, and finally puts off the expedition until tomorrow.

July 27. Ido saddles his horse, and with several men sets off late in the forenoon, but on the way down the mountain trail
an accident of unlucky portent checks advance. Abok, Ido's little son, happens to give a hard knock to a chicken belonging to a Bagobo at whose house the party are stopping for refreshment, and the fowl dies as a result of the blow. Following the indication furnished by this ill omen, the entire expedition returns home.

July 28. Ido and his men make a fresh start, with a promise that they will be back three days hence.


July 29 et seq. The women are finishing the weaving of choice textiles, some of which are to be ceremonially displayed at the Ginum, and others are to be made into skirts, trousers and jackets that will be worn at the dance on the last night.

August 1. Men are completing work on the Long House; they are closing in great open spaces in the walls to the east and to the west, by binding together sections of balekayo (a light bamboo) with rattan, and tying them to the house timbers.
They work always in the direction prescribed for the Bagobo, that is, from north to south, when adding section to section. Datu Oleng, anxious for Ido's return, goes down the trail with several other men, in the hope of meeting him.

August 2. Oleng and his party return, after a futile wait at Bungoyan's house, half-way down the trail.

August 3. The moon is in her last quarter, and hence the festival must now be deferred until the new moon, or even, perhaps, until the close of the first quarter, when the moon will be "big-horned." The girls finish their textiles and remove them from the looms.

In the evening, a supply of powdered lime called aj^og^ for chewing with betel, is prepared. A fire is kindled under Ido's
house; certain kinds of small shells are calcined and the hot shell ashes dropped into a little water.

August 4. Ido returns with supplies; he had stayed at the coast in order to be present at the great fiesta given by the Visayan presidente^ in memory of his wife, on the first anniversary of her death. Old Miyanda, Oleng's sister, is making fresh clay pots for the Ginum. The textiles are put through a process of softening and polishing. They are then laid in clay pots to remain for thirty-six hours.

August 5 — 6. The work of molding the pottery continues. Under the direction of Miyanda, the textiles are washed by young girls, and hung up to dry.

August 6. At night, the God of the Bamboo (Tolus ka Kawayan) and the God of the Altar (Tolus ka Balekat) speak at an anito seance, and urge the speedy celebration of Ginum. They threaten a visitation of sickness if there be further delay.
Oleng assures the gods that the Ginum shall be held when the moon is in the Avest. The Tolus ka Kawayan blames Oleng for not bringing a human sacrifice. 


August 7. Guests are beginning to arrive for the festival in the hope that it will be held at new moon; but there is not sufficient dried fish, and other provisions are lacking.

August 7 et seq. Textiles are polished with a shell.

August 8. The guests from Digas go home, saying that they will return in five nights. The Ginum is put off until the moon
reaches her half. At night there is an interview with anito.
Embroidery of festival garments is going on, and this work continues until the very last day.

August 9. At an anito interview, the Malaki t'Olu k'Waig speaks, saying that the women are to pound rice continuously until the Ginum. Maying, Oleng's daughter, gently awakens the other women, and they pound rice all night long.

August 10. The sound of the pestle in the big mortar never ceases all day, and we hear it all through the night.

August 11. The women finish pounding the rice. In an interview with the anito, Oleng is told that he has the korokung ^^"^ sickness, brought by the old woman at the mouth of the river.
Oleng begs the anito to carry his sickness to the Malaki t'Olu k'Waig, who will strangle the sickness.

August 12. Biaii nuts'^^ for festival torches are strung on long sections of nap-nap (a fine rattan). A shelf, called tagudn ka sekhadu^ for the water-flasks, is put up on the porch. The roof of the Long House is being finished by the young men, who bring great bundles of meadow-grass, five or six feet in length. With much laughter and merriment, they toss the bundles to other men on the roof, who, in turn, lay them crosswise on the timbers, and make the thatch secure with long strips of laya ^^^ wood, which they place on the grass-bundles and bind down with rattan. Guests continue to arrive.

August 13. Malik, son-in-law to Oleng, makes a capacious bed of split bamboo for the use of guests. It is like a wide shelf fastened to the east wall, at a height of three and three-fourths feet from the floor.

^ ^ '* Karokung is an illness characterized by cough, chills and fever.

^ « 5 A small round nut, rich in oil. Bihc nuts are reserved for ceremonial illumination, the house on ordinary occasions being lighted by the hine, a torch of resin, wrapped in leaves.

^ 2 « A variety of bamboo.


The women bring in quantities of green corn, which they carry in burden baskets on their backs.

August 14. First day of the Gimim, Men and women go out with burden baskets for hemp leaves, to make leaf-dishes. Ido starts for the house of Kaba, a long distance down the trail, whither he has to go for more cocoanuts. Loda goes to the same place for areca-nuts. The girls cut one another's hair in the style called kalam^ya; that is, a fringe of bangs cut into a number of sharp points, and stuck with vegetable glue to forehead and cheeks.

First night called Tig-kanayan (The Beginning). The Gin- daya, or ceremonial chant, is formally opened by three young men: Ayang (a nephew of Oleng's), Bagyu the leper (Ayang's brother), and Saman (a step-son of Oleng's). The beating of agongs and the dancing begin. The sugar cane liquor is brought in, but on this opening night only a small amount is served. Everybody may taste it, but we are permitted to drink only sparingly. We make leaf-dishes, called kinudok^ in large numbers , for in them the food is to be served on the last night. The young men sharpen slender sticks of nap-nap, and with these the girls pin up the dishes. They heat slightly over flame or coals each leaf-section, deftly curl the two corners of an end, one over the other, turn up the same edge, and run it through with the pointed thong of nap-nap — a process called taivduk ka ddun (preparing the leaves).
T'agong-go and dancing continue through the night, until near dawn. Datu Oleng says that there shall be no sleep for four nights.

August 15. Second dag. About three hours after sunrise, nine young men go out to hew down young bamboos, and on returning they cut seventy internodal joints for the sek-kadii^ or water-flasks, that are to be filled on the last great day. Clusters of areca-nuts are brought in for the ceremonial offices, and for the guests to chew. Miyanda fires the pots.
A frame of laya wood is put up; from this the agongs are to be suspended, and on it the textiles and the tankulu are to be displayed. It consists of five smooth white rods, two of which run lengthwise of the house, and three transversely; they are tied to the large upright timbers, about six feet from the floor. Competitive racing of horses by young men takes place — possibly a mere diversion.


Second night, called Ta Dua Dukilun. The preliminary Awas is performed: areca-nuts are placed by the wayside, with ritual words, the ceremony being conducted by old women, who make the leaf-dishes and repeat the religious formulae.
The first Tanung is performed, a ceremony at which branches of magic virtue are planted in two places by the path, in order to frustrate the evil plans of Buso. No drinking of balabba is permitted on the second night, and hence no chanting of gindaya, for gindaya is chanted only on the nights when the sugar cane wine is drunk. The beating of agongs and the dancing that were scheduled for this night are omitted, for it becomes evident that Ido will not bring back the cocoanuts in time for the banquet that was to be on the 11th.
Therefore, since the celebration of the Fourth Day cannot take place on the 17th the celebration of the Second Night is
stopped, while the t'agong-go and sumayo that belong to this evening are put off until twenty-four hours later. Oleng says that we may sleep to-night.

August 16. The order of the celebration is now interrupted on account of the lack of cocoanuts. Many guests have left Mati, and, weary of the delay, have gone to their homes. Malik is putting up the dega-dega a high ceremonial seat fastened to the west wall, where Oleng is to sit while observing the ceremonies that are to take place in the Long House. The young men are cutting off brushwood and clearing a path through the jungle, so that guests may find an entrance. In the afternoon, Ido returns with the cocoanuts. The celebration is taken up at the point where it was left off last night. All the evening there is agong music and dancing. At night occurs a brief interview with the anito.

August 17. Third day, Oleng says that on this day nobody may work. The events of the morning occur in the following order: Pamalugu, or lavations in the river; Lulub, or washing the water-flasks; Sonar, or ceremonies at an agong-altar, of which the distinctive acts are the offering of clothing, weapons and ornaments to the gods, the medicinal washing of faces, an interview with the anito, ritual recitations, the ceremonial with balabba. Two new tambara (bamboo prayer stands) are put up in the usual manner, and many articles taken from the agongs are hung beside the tambara for one night. Masses


of fragrant green kummi are brought in by young girls; this is to be worn at the waists of the women on the fourth night.
Beating of agongs and dancing take place at intervals throughout the day. Two large wooden figures of men are carved, and the magic branches called tanung are cut and brought in for the evening ceremony. Little human figures (tingoto) are shaped, and leaf-dishes made, for the Awas. The ceremonies distinctive of this Third Day proceed in order until near sunset, when a halt is called because of the earthquake. The ceremonies of Awas and Tanung therefore are put off until tomorrow. At night, the anito are consulted about the earthquake.

August 18, No ceremonies may now be performed until twenty-four hours shall have elapsed after the earthquake. Young girls boil the green kiimmi, a process which draws out the sweet fragrance of the plant, and then they hang bunches of it from the rafters, and stick sprays in their girdles and in their skirts.
More areca-nuts are brought in for the Awas.

Third Night. The second Awas is celebrated late in the afternoon. At sunset, the main Tanung is performed, at which rite the wooden figures are stationed by the path and the magic branches are set out, to frighten off the demons who may try to bring sickness to the bodies, or anger to the hearts, of those present at the feast. The preliminary Awas is repeated,
only because the areca-nuts and the betel-leaf that were placed by the wayside on the second night have withered during the delay. T'agong-go and sumayo proceed.

August 19. Fourth and Main day. Agongs sound at dawn. The halanan., or large vessels of laya bamboo in which sugar cane wine is to be poured are made. Men cut mouths in the seventy water-flasks, and women take them to the river to fill with water. The ceremonial bamboo poles {kawayan) are cut, brought into the Long House, decorated and set up. The war-cry is raised. Agongs are beaten without dancing. Spears are attached upright to the two poles of bamboo. A display of textiles on the laya and the balekayo frames is made. The sugar cane liquor is brought in. A cock is shot as a sacrificial victim. The shelf of the hanging altar (taguan ka balekdt) is put up. The sacred food — chicken, red rice
And cocoanut — is prepared, and cooked in bamboo vessels.
Fourth and last night. Torches of biaii nuts are lighted


and the war-cry is raised. Sacrificial offices over the chicken and omok, rites over two bowls of balabba, and rites with
betel are performed at the altar called balekat. Betel is ceremonially chewed. The sacred food is deposited in two bamboo vessels, called garong^ and elevated to the shelf of the balekat.
A supplementary Awas is performed by the old women. Chanting of Gindaya is resumed. Festival dances are performed, accompanied by the beating of agongs. There ensues a general drinking of balabba by the entire company. Three successive periods of chanting gindaya, of dancing, and of gindaya proceed. The feast is served and eaten. There follows a recitation of exploits by the old men as they grasp the bamboos. Men and adolescent boys eat the sacred food at the altar. Drinking of sugar cane liquor and informal speeches take place. Grindaya is sung through the night and until one hour after sunrise.

Ceremony of Awas^ or offerings of areca-nuts to spirits.

Among the many ritual acts which have been listed in chronological order, are several important ceremonies that have their place on the second and third nights, and on the third day of the Ginum: the Awas, the Tanung, the Pamalugu, the Son^r. a somewhat detailed account of these several functions will now be given, and this will be followed by a narrative of the events on the fourth and main day of the festival.

The word awas means, "something given to a god," "a gift to a spirit," and there are two or three ceremonies that take their name from the idea of the gift itself. The first or preliminary Awas, called Farag awas^ is performed on the second night, and consists in the offering of betel to certain gods, to the buso, and to dead gimokud. This ceremony seems like a private one, for few attend it besides the old women who conduct the rite, and the chief datu, who assists toward the end.

The second or main Awas occurs on the afternoon of the third day, in the Long House, in the presence of many people. This second Awas is essentially one of substitution, in which little images are laid down to receive and to hold the diseases of the Bagobo.
The religious formulae are said by the datu. Both the first and the second Awas are characterized by the use of very small leaf dishes, which have the name of kiniidok and, as aforesaid, bear some resemblance to little boats.
Offerings of manufactured products to the God. Datu Ido sat down on the floor, in front of the agongs and facing the east. During the first part of the proceedings, Datu Oleng sat perched on the high guest-bed and watched all that went on, but gave no directions. At once the people began to bring their nice things to Ido, who put them on the agongs or on the floor close to the altar. In a few cases, the gifts were placed by the owners themselves. Old Miyanda took the initiative and put on one of the agongs a pair of man's trousers (saroar). Then came a long delay, during which everybody went about his ordinary occupations. The men chewed betel; the girls kept on putting stitch after stitch on the fine embroidery decorating garments to be worn at the dance on the following night. In the interval, Datu Ido and Miyanda, with a few others, talked over the proper disposition to be made of the things destined for the agong altar.

Then Miyanda went to another part of the house, and returned with an armful of hemp skirts, or sarongs, woven in figures and called by the Bagobo panapiscm. She brought, also, women's cotton waists, and necklaces of beads in solid colors, — green, white and yellow, — all of which articles she placed together on one agong.
In the meantime, Ido had fetched a finely-decorated waist, a long panapisan of Bila and made, a number of pieces of Yisayan textiles and imported prints that had been secured at the coast and some


white cotton cloth. All these he put in a pile on the floor. He then changed the arrangement of the agongs, by placing them in a row running north and south, with the one containing water at the south end of the line. He laid the four tambara just east of the agongs. At this point, the washing of faces began, as described under the following caption. All the time, the women and the men were approaching the altar from all directions of the house, bringing garments, ornaments, swords, and calling, "Ido! Ido!" so that the chieftain might recognize each individual, and thus associate every object with its owner. Ido, under this stress, was trying to keep the offerings in classified groups, so that at the end of the ceremony they could, the more conveniently, be returned. He kept asking, "Whose is this?" or "Whose is that?" before placing the various articles. His disposition of things, however, was not always respected. One cotton textile he demurred at taking from a young man, but finally consented, rolled the cloth into a small wad and put it on top of the pile of objects which he, himself, had brought to the altar. As soon as Ido's back was turned, the young Bagobo unfolded his textile and spread it out on Ido's things, whereupon the chief, his eye returning to the spot, placed the cloth
in still another position. Soon, the three agongs were heaped with offerings — embroidered shirts, newly-woven panapisan of glistening hemp, wide bead necklaces and many cotton textiles. Ido took from his neck a fine gold cord {kamagi) and with it crowned his own heap of gifts.

The straight, one-edged swords called kampilan were brought, to the number of eight, and also four long spears. Ido laid on the floor the eight kampilan beside the agongs, and placed the spears^ with their blades under the swords. At the Grinum that I had earlier observed at Tubison, there were, similarly, eight of the^ kampilan — a type of sword that forms a valued element in the ceremony and is presumably associated with the war-god, Mandarangan, who is addressed in the prayers at this time.

Only a few trinkets were dropped into the agong containing water, for an object placed in this agong cannot be reclaimed —it goes to the priestess through whom the gods speak. On being invited to make some offering, I contributed a heavy armlet of brass, that Loda had cast from a wax mould. I stipulated, however, that it should be put on the agongs, and not in the water, as it was an object of value to me. Directly, then, Oleng called


from his high seat, and requested me to put a little bell into the water. I did so, adding also a small mirror. The priestess quickly put her hand into the agong and took out the mirror, which she held, clasped tight, during the anito seance that followed.

Ablutions called Sagmo. The agong that was turned w4th its concave side up had been filled to about one-fourth of its capacity with water, and the two green bunches of sagmo, with which the candidates at Pamalugu had been sprinkled, lay in the water. Just after the bringing of offerings had begun, and when Ido had placed the four agongs in a row, a number of people came, one or more at a time, and bathed their faces in the water that held the sagmo.
A good many of those who washed in the agong had not been present at Pamalugu; but some who had received purification in the early morning laved their faces now, as well, in the medicinal water. There was more or less laughter and talk during the ablutions, and all the while people were bringing their gifts to the altar, so that the religious nature of the rite was somewhat obscured.
The value of this washing for the warding off of disease is apparently due to the magic sagmo hallowing the water in which it lies.

Visitation of Anito. The usual manner of conducting an inter- view with the gods is described in a later section of this paper.
Such interviews take place, ordinarily, at night, this being the only instance that came under my observation of a seance during the day.

"When the people had finished bringing gifts, the priestess, Singan, sat down on the floor at the south end of the row of agongs, so that she faced north, and thus had the agong holding the medicinal greens directly in front of her. Covering her head and face completely with her red cotton scarf {salughoy)^ she began to utter those harsh and sepulchral groans that regularly announce the coming of a spirit. Her right hand, grasping the tiny looking-glass, lay in her lap; she pressed her left hand to her cheek, while her body shook and trembled. Not only the children, but adult Bagobo also, gazed at the priestess with keen curiosity, for they rarely get a look at her in this condition. At the night meetings, the torches are always extinguished. Her voice came muffled through the cloth wrapped round her head, few of her words could be heard, and soon the people began chatting and laughing. The oracle was very brief, and was uttered without the chanting that forms a customary feature of a seance. I was able to record only that the Malaki t'Olu k'Waig spoke as follows:


"I am come this noon because you summoned me by the gifts on the agongs. Now let all the people upon whom water was poured from the sagmo, at the Pamalugu, put bells and brass bracelets into the agong with the sagmo."

Rites with Balabba. The ceremonial drink of fermented sugar cane, barely tasted on the first night of the festival, is drunk freely on the third day; and it is at this stage of the Sonar that the first deep draught of balabba is taken. A portion is offered to the gods as their right, before the people drink.

While Singan was muttering incoherent words, Ido brought a long bamboo flask, and from it poured out balabba, until he had filled four large bowls, and his own little cup, with the thick, rich, brown liquid. A delicious aroma came from the bowls, as it were of boiling molasses mingled with old rum. Then the people began to be eager for the close of the worship, and for the end of the abstinence of the long morning; but they sat waiting in their customary attitude of patience. Ido had placed the four bowls in a row parallel with the agongs, but on the other side from the tambara. His own little cup he moved into several different positions, placing it, first, at the north end of the bowls, then at the south end, again, in the middle, and finally back at the north end again.

As soon as Singan had lapsed into silence, Oleng came down from his perch, and placed himself in front of the bowls of liquor, so that he sat facing east, and also facing the agongs. Ido was at his left, and he motioned me to a place between Oleng and himself for this, the most worshipful act of the Sonar, The Long House was full of Bagobo, standing, or sitting, as near the agongs as they could place themselves, without intruding into the reserved positions.
Datu Yting was also at the altar, near the other datu.

Oleng, now acting as priest, touched the rim of the bowl of balabba that stood farthest to his right, and said : ''All of this, anito, is yours, for this year we are making our Ginum; and when all of you, anito, have drunk from this bowl of balabba, then we will drink the rest."

A spray of a fragrant plant called manangid had been laid beside the bowls, and he took this spray and stirred it three times around in the bowl. Then, with the tips of his fingers, he touched the rim of the second bowl, as he had touched the first, and said, addressing the agong-altar: "Sonaran, ^^^ the balabba in this bowl is yours.

^"^ Oleng was doubtless addressing the spirit resident in the agongs. The agongs functioning as an altar are called sonar an^ while the name of the ceremony is Sonar.


See, now we have placed upon you our valued things — panapisan^ jackets, trousers, woven necklaces, gold kamagi, textiles, kampilan, spears — because from this time on we want to get rich. Now, Sonaran, that we have put our gifts here upon you, you must save us from sickness." Then he stirred the liquor in this bowl three times with the spray of manangid. Finally, he touched the rim of the third bowl, as he offered it to the great war-god, with these words. "Now you, Mandarangan, this third bowl is for you, because we are again holding our Ginum. We ask you to taste this balabba, and to drink it all, then the rest of us will drink." Having said this, he stirred the balabba in the third bowl three times, with the same spray. The fourth bowl, unless some detail escaped my observation, was not dedicated to any deity, nor were any prayers said over it. At the close of the office, Oleng gave the spray of manangid to Ido, who put it in his hair.

Oleng spoke to the gods in a conversational tone, and was sometimes prompted by Datu Yting when he forgot a word of the formula. Ido gave vent to a few explosive groans while Oleng was praying, for he thirsted to begin sipping the sweet balabba.

At the conclusion of the devotions, the three datu, Oleng, Ido and Yting, drank from the bowls, and afterwards the rest of the people. My impression is that they drank from all four bowls, but this item escaped me. Ido gave his own cup to me to use individually, and offered to refill it when empty, but the large bowls were passed about, from hand to hand, among all the company.

When we had finished drinking, Malik took up the four new tambara and fastened them to the wall, or to some house pillar.
Ido began returning the objects from the agongs to their respective owners, and called out their names if there was delay in claiming the articles. I saw one man gird on his kampilan as soon as Ido returned it, but, in general, the people laid the smaller articles in the tambara, and put larger objects in a wide scarf {salughoy) hanging close to the tambara. Here they must remain for at least one night, and afterwards be retained always in the possession of the individuals who offered them. At last, the three agongs were hung up in their former places, and a tap-tap on a large agong, nine times repeated, announced the end of the Sonar. A pile of swords still lay on the floor, and were picked up after the tap-tap had sounded. Last of all, the agong containing the water and


bunches of medicine was pushed under the high bed, where it remained until the end of the Ginum(?).

Ceremonies on the Main Day of Ginum. The fourth and main day of the festival — the Ginum proper — is crowded with important and deeply interesting ceremonial, that begins at dawn and continues until after sunrise on the following morning. Attention should be drawn to the events distinctive of the day, although, as has been indicated in an earlier summary, many other rites (such as drinking balabba, chanting gindaya, beating agongs, dancing, performing awas, and so forth) which took place on earlier days, reappear during the culminating ceremonial, but are here characterized, usually, by new elements that have to do with the formality, or with the extent of time, of the

On the last day occurs the sacrifice of a human or of an animal victim; the cutting down of two ceremonial bamboos followed by the bringing in, the shaving, the decoration, the raising, and the attaching of spears to these poles; the raising of a war-cry at fixed points in the ceremonial; an exhibition of products of the loom and of the warriors' kerchiefs; the preparation and the cooking of special forms of sacred food; an illumination with ceremonial torches; the altar ceremonial, when sacrificial food and holy liquor and betel are first laid before the Tolus ka Balekat, and afterward
eaten; the rehearsing by old men, while clasping the bamboo, of the number of persons they have killed; and the serving and the eating of an excellent banquet, in which everybody present has a share.

When the first trace of dawn appeared over the mountains, and while the darkness in the Long House was still unbroken, the girls got up and called Loda and several of the other young men, who were to start the t'agong-go. They rose forthwith, and beat agongs lustily for about half an hour. Thus, at daybreak, the culminating period of the great festival was ushered in.

About one hour after sunrise, eight men left the house to cut the two bamboos that were to be placed in the festival house on that day. The ceremony of cutting down the two bamboos, or kawayan^^^ is called Dudo ka kawayan. The eight men included

***® The Bagobo distinguish nicely the many varieties of bamboo that grow in their country. The larger bamboos {Bambusa arundinacea) that grow to a height of from forty to sixty feet and are used for the heavier house timbers and for flooring, are called by the Bagobo kawayan. Two of these trunks are cut for the ceremonial poles at Ginum.


Ido, Bansag and other picked warriors, each of whom wore the tankulu, a sign that he had killed at least one man. No other Bagobo was permitted to go on the expedition. They had to go some distance over the mountains, to reach a certain spot where the bamboos might be cut, in accordance with a regulation that the ceremonial kawayan must be cut each year from the same place in the forests. The old man, Oleng, did not go with the party, but rested during the early morning at the Long House. Later, he seemed very impatient for the return of the men; he paced up and down, watching from door or window, and would say, as the hours crawled by: "It is time for them to come. I will go out and meet them." About the middle of the forenoon, he left the house with two or three other men, intending to meet the party, and to return with them.

Li the course of another hour, a current of suppressed excitement passed through the waiting group of people, as the word passed among us, "They are coming."

It was near the middle of the forenoon when a prolonged shout was heard in the distance, and then repeated. After the second shout, the nine men, headed by Oleng and Ido, came filing up the path from the southeast, bearing two long trunks of bamboo.

The little procession came up the house-ladder and through the narrow door, each man wearing the tankulu, and having a blossom or two of red and gold darudu fastened in the folds of his kerchief and hanging over his forehead. The expression on the face of every man was one of rapt abstraction and of high exaltation.
Immediately on entering the house, they rested the two bamboo poles against one of the transverse timbers. Then Ido, followed

A smaller species {Bambusa hlumeana) has a slender, brittle stem, covered with short thorns, and is called by the Bagobo hale-kayo^ which means "house wood." They make use of balekayo everywhere for the lighter parts of the frame-work of the house, such as the joists running from the ridge-pole to the edge of the roof, to support the thatch; and for the entire wall, sometimes, of the Long House; for flutes and other wind instruments; for making fires where a short-lived, intense flame is needed, as when shells are to be calcined for lime. This is the bamboo that the Spaniards referred to as "thorny cane" (Cana espiiaa). Another bamboo {Bambusa vulgaris'^) is thornless, has an exceedingly
hard-grained stem, and is known among the Bagobo as hubung ; this is decorated with fine carving and used for lime tubes. The color of the wood is light yellow in the young tree and a rich, mellow tan tiut in older trees. Still another bamboo, of which the native name is laya, has a slender white stem that is utilized for various purposes, one of which is to supply a ceremonial frame at Ginum, on which textiles and other garments to be displayed before the gods are hung.


by the other seven men, leaped toward the structure from which the agongs hung, and seized hold of its long rods, round which ogbus vine had been twined at an earlier hour. The eight men, close clasping vine and pole, raised the same war cry that we had heard from afar. There was a long drawn out nasal, prolonged by holding the tongue against the palate so as to produce a humming sound on one note — n-n-n-n-n-n-n ! — followed by a continued sonant — r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r ! — given with open throat and resonant voice, while the bodies of the men swayed slightly back and forth.
When this behavior had lasted for several minutes, Ido sprang to the agongs, grasped a tap-tap, and beat the instruments with short, ringing strokes, his face expressing a jubilant ecstasy, as he darted from Tarabun to Matia , and from Matia to Mabagung. He produced such a grand clash of percussion melody that one felt a sense of trampling under foot all foes to the Bagobo. Prom the first signal at dawn until now, the agongs had not been struck.

Next followed the ceremonial decoration of the bamboos. The two poles were of unequal length and girth, the longer one consisting of nine internodes, and the shorter one of eight internodes.
The longer bamboo was perhaps fifteen or more feet in length (the exact measurements I failed to secure). With one end resting on the floor, and the other end on a cross-beam of the house, each bamboo stood at a gradual slant during the time that the men were working on their decoration.

First, Ido scraped on each pole four lines running from one end to the other, as an outline for the detailed work. On these lines, the men shaved off the skin of the bamboo in short lengths.

^*" specific names of the instruments.

the ceremonial use of shaved poles, and of bunches of shavings, among the Ainu of Saghalin is discussed very fully by Sternberg. After mentioning the various hypotheses in regard to the significance of this element, as put forth by Batchelor, Bird, Dobrotvorski and Aston, the writer states his own conclusions: namely, that the shaved sticks to which the Ainu give the name of inao represent supernatural agents who carry the prayers and offerings of the Ainu to God, and that the shavings themselves are the tongues of the mediating-envoy. The Ainu place these inao at the door, in front of the house, and at spots on the mountains, in the forest, and at the riverside. On special occasions, as after recovery from an illness, or on returning from a journey, such shaved sticks are set up. The bear to be offered in sacrifice is often decorated with bunches of shavings. "To sam up,*' Dr. Sternberg says, "inao are shaved trees and pieces of wood, commonly in the shape of human figures, which act as man*s intercessors before deities.
Their power lies in their numerous tongues (shavings), which increase the suasive power of their eloquence to an extraordinary degree." (p. 436) "This odd cult," he states, "has


until they had made nine clusters of shavings on each pole, each cluster close to a nodal joint. The clusters on the long bamboo consisted each of nine shavings, and the clusters on the shorter bamboo, of eight shavings each, every individual shaving remaining attached by its base to the pole. Each one of the single shavings was then split into three or four or more fine curls, so that a series of festoons appeared running down the poles, a group of festoons at each node.

The next process was a mechanical device for the attachment of leaves and flowers. Near each of the four central nodes on the long-bamboo, they cut a pair of small holes, so that there were eight holes, four on one side, and four on the opposite side of the pole.
Similarly, they cut three pairs of holes in the shorter bamboo, near the three central nodes. They inserted long slender sticks into the perforations thus made, letting each stick run through a pair of holes, and project several inches on each side. There were thus eight sticks passing through the trunk of the larger bamboo, and six sticks through the smaller one. The corresponding pairs of perforations in the two poles did not lie exactly in the same horizontal plane, and hence the sticks did not meet end to end. Long branches of a plant called baris that has a slender, glossy-black, stiff stem, were tied to the projecting sticks, every baris stem being split into shreds — one large shred and eight small shreds for the long bamboo, while the stems for the shorter pole were cut into twelve shreds each.

The attachment of leaf-pennants and of flowers completed the decoration of the poles. Great bulla leaves were cut or torn into

spread from the Ainu to the neighboring people of the Amur region, — the Gilyak, the Orok, the Gold, and the Orochi. Judging from Krasheninnikof s description, an anal- ogous phenomenon exists among the Kamchadal, but with the substitution of fibres of sedge-grass for shavings." (p. 430) "The Tao of the Ainu." Boas anniversary volume, pp. 425—437. 1906.

Several years earlier, Purness had suggested a like interpretation for the symbolism of the shavings. He says of the Kayans, when they select a camphor tree, "if all omens are favorable, and they find that the tree is likely to prove rich in camphor, they plant near their hut a stake, whereof the outer surface has been cut into curled shavings and tufts down the sides and at the top. I suggest as possible that these shavings represent the curling tongues of flame which communicate with the unseen powers)." The Home-life of Borneo Head-hunters, pp. 167—168. 1902.

The Kayans are said to have lost sight of the significance of this ceremonial element, and the Bagobo suggested no explanation.


ribbon-like strips, which were fastened on by piercing them with the stiff, wiry stems of the baris branches, so that an effect of waving green pennants was, perhaps unconsciously, secured. Finally, the symbolic flowers of the Bagobo warrior — red kalimping and blossoms from the scarlet and gold darudu — were tied to the projecting tips of the baris stems, and also to the bulla-leaves. The last flowers and leaf-strips were added, and the final touches given, after the raising of the poles.

At the same time with the processes just described, other Bagobo were thrusting into the upper end of the hollow poles bouquets composed of leaves and flowers of different kinds, with white clusters
of tender young leaf-buds and undeveloped fruit from the areca-palm. These clusters are called tibiis and form one of the characteristic decorations of the ceremonial bamboos. Sprays of ubus may be worn at the throat, or stuck in the leglets, or tied to the spears of brave men who have killed other men. A large part of these clusters of leaves and flowers were concealed within the bamboo trunks, but they protruded for a short distance from the openings.

The next proceeding was to raise the poles into place, so that they should stand upright beneath the steepest part of the roof, and directly in front of the altar called balekat. The shorter bamboo Avas easily lifted to a vertical position, so that its upper end rested against a joist of the slanting roof; but when the long bamboo had been raised to an angle of some fifteen degrees from the vertical it was found to be too long, by several inches, for the extreme height of the roof, and it could not be forced to stand up straight, so as to touch the ridge-pole as custom demanded. This check to the performances proved a serious matter; for to let the bamboo stand at a slant would be contrary to custom and hence unlucky; while to cut it shorter would be a sacrilege, certain to be followed by the sickness or the death of somebody. The old men and women talked over the matter, and everybody wore a grave and anxious face. My crass suggestion that they break the roof was dismissed as if unthinkable, and a long delay ensued, followed by a fresh attack on the pole, a new adjustment, a pressure from the upper end of the bamboo against the yielding joists and the thatch of grass, and a tacit consent of all concerned to allow the ceremonial bamboo to stand at a slant removed by an extremely small angle from the vertical.

Just as the decoration of the poles was finished, there were brought


into the house two long rods of the slender, brittle-stemmed variety of bamboo called halekayo. These were to serve as an additional frame on which to hang fine textiles and other garments for the ceremonial exhibit. They were very long, from one-half to two- thirds the length of the entire house, and they were lifted to their place between the two rods of laya that ran lengthwise of the house, and parallel to them. The usual bindings of rattan fastened the balekayo to the heavy cross-timbers of the house. Immediately afterwards, a number of long-shafted spears were brought to the ceremonial bamboos, and tied to them. At the moment of attaching the spears, Datu Oleng said a few ritual words, which I was unable to record. The spears stood with their points up, in the usual position of a spear at rest, when it is customary to thrust into the earth the sharp-pointed cone with which the handle is tipped.

While the rite with the spears was in progress, the women and girls were gathering together all the new hemp textiles that, with tireless industry, they had dyed, woven, washed and polished, and with the textiles they piled up many women's waists, men's trousers, salugboy (scarfs), fresh cotton textiles and various other articles.
All these they now brought forward and hung on the balekayo rods and on the long poles of the frame of laya wood that had been put up, primarily, for the agongs. The function of the three crossbars of this frame now became apparent, for so large a number of garments and stuffs were displayed that they covered every inch of the laya and balekayo, lengthwise and crosswise, thus making a sort of rectangular super-enclosure within which the ceremonies preceded. This is the annual occasion when the highly artistic work of the women is spread out to view, when all the guests may see, as in a picture gallery, the decorative designs done in glistening hemp, the rich embroidery, the figured patterns formed by tiny discs of mother of pearl. Ordinarily, the Bagobo keep all their treasures packed away in tight yellow wood boxes or in baskets, leaving the room, even in wealthy families, bare of all furnishings except the loom, the altar and the hearth. Even at the Ginum^ the exhibition appeared to be purely a ceremonial affair. The girls spread their beautiful things over the frames with a serious and quiet mien, as if they thought only of the gods, for whose pleasure the offerings were made, and who alone were to enjoy the spirit, or essence, of the material objects.

Immediately after this, the sugar cane liquor was brought in. It


was carried in three long vessels of bamboo that Andan and Agwas had made while we were waiting for the coming in of the two great bamboos. These vessels, called halanan^ had handles for the more convenient bearing and pouring of the liquor, whereas the ordinary water-bucket (sekkaca) has no handle. The balabba was brought in by young men, who proceeded to pour out some of the dark brown liquor into a tall metal jar, called tagudn ha balabba^ that had just been placed in the Long House. They stood up against the wall the balanan holding the remainder of the liquor, to be kept for the evening rites. After this, there was a short intermission, it was long past noon, and nobody had eaten since very early that morning.

The central event of the Ginum, namely, the sacrifice offered to the god of the balekat, took place on the evening of the fourth day, the preliminaries being handled in the afternoon. After the intermission, Datu Oleng carried a cock that had been tied in the house down under the house, where it was shot by Ido, with an arrow having a head of bamboo. The fowl was plucked under the house, and then brought up into the house again, where it was cut into pieces by Muku, a brother of Singan's. He cut it up in the same manner that the Bagobo cook commonly prepares a chicken for the pot: that is to say, opening the fowl by one lengthwise gash of the work-knife, removing entrails and opening gizzard, chopping off the wings, tearing off the skin by a downward pull over the legs, striking off the legs, and finally cutting the body, wings and legs into very small squarish chunks. Before this process was finished, another ceremonial detail of import was in progress.

Against the west wall, and near the two bamboos, the shrine called balekat hung in its usual place. It consisted of seven piles of old and smoke-grimed bowls and saucers, suspended by rattan hangers in the customary manner. Directly in front of this altar, the young men put up the broad shelf called taguan^^^ ka balekat^ and attached it firmly to the timbers of the roof by means of strong bands of plaited rattan. It hung at quite a distance above our heads, so that, in order to place or to remove anything from the shelf, the altar assistant was obliged to climb up the wall, and

^^^ Taguan is a word that expresses the idea of a receptacle of some sort. It may be a shelf, as taguan ka sekkadu (shelf for water- flasks), or taguan ka balekat (altar-shelf);, it may he taguan ka sulu (torch-holder); or taguan ka balabba (jar for balabba).


on along the sloping roof, a feat easily accomplished by the help of house-posts and cross-timbers, and of that monkey like agility which is characteristic of the movements of Bagobo youths.

The balekat now being complete for the sacrificial offerings, the composition of the elements that were to form the offerings proceeded. The sacred food that is placed before the Tolus ka Balekat, and afterwards eaten by the men and boys, is a mixture of chicken, red rice and cocoanut. The dessicated fowl, to which some cocoanut is added, is cooked by itself, while the bulk of the cocoanut pulp, with all of the rice, is cooked in a separate set of vessels.
After being taken from the fire, the contents of the different vessels — chicken, rice and cocoanut — are mingled together, before being offered to the god.

When iluku had cut the fowl into bits, he separated it into two portions, the portion on his right hand for the men, the portion on his left hand for the adolescent boys. In the meantime, Inok was scraping out white pulp from one-half of a ripe cocoanut, with a grater called arod. This is a little piece of cocoanut shell, armed with a row of teeth notched on one edge. The curve of the remaining margin of the shell fits nicely into the hollow of the palm.
As the shredded cocoanut pulp fell down in little heaps, Muku picked it up, handful by handful, and mixed it with the chicken meat at his right hand. He rubbed each handful of cocoanut thoroughly with a small part of the chicken, and dropped the mixture into a bamboo joint; He put each handful of cocoanut and chicken as soon as he had rubbed them together into the vessel, then picked up more cocoanut, mixed it with same of the remaining chicken meat, and so on, until all of the chicken on his right was disposed of. Next, he rubbed shredded cocoanut, in the same manner, with the pile of chicken meat on his left hand, but all of this mixture he put into a second bamboo joint. Both of the two bamboo vessels had been lined with sarabak leaves before the mess of cocoanut and chicken was dropped into them. Finally, Muku poured into each of the vessels sufficient water to cover, in part, the food and tied up the openings with leaves of hemp or of sarabak.

Simultaneously, or a little later, nine other bamboo vessels, called Mutmi^ were being filled with rice and cocoanut in the following manner. Inok continued to grate cocoanut from the same half section of the nut, until he had scraped all of the pulp from the shell. Then, from a large basket beside him, he took a quantity


of raw red rice that had been crushed in the mortar, and stirred it up with the shredded cocoanut. The red rice is called omok^ and is one of the special forms of sacrificial food. ^^^ I understood that the same name (omok) was given to the mixture of red rice and cocoanut. Another young man, Ayang, took a part of the little pile of red rice and cocoanut, heaped it on a sarabak leaf, and laid on it another sarabak leaf. He then lifted the leaves with their contents, so that his palms did not touch the omok, and pressed the whole into one of the bamboo vessels — the lulutan. A very little cold water had previously been poured into the vessel. Immediately afterward, Buak filled a second lulutan in the same manner, thus using up the remaining cocoanut from the first half shell.
Inok then attacked the other half of the nut and scraped out all of the meat^ which he mixed with the rest of the red rice, whereupon Ayang and Buak proceeded to fill seven additional lulutan.
Each of the bamboo vessels was filled up to about two-thirds of its capacity, or a little less; but the amount put into each did not vary, for Buak measured the content exactly, every time, by inserting a little stick of laya wood into the vessel and minutely examining the point to which the moisture mark rose. When the nine lulutan had been prepared, Inok tied together the two empty halves of cocoanut shell with rattan so as to make one hollow nut, which he left ready to hang on the altar at the close of the evening ceremony.

The nine lulutan and the two bamboo joints containing the chicken and cocoanut were then carried down the steps to a place under the house, where each vessel was filled to the rim with cold water, and its top tied securely with a leaf-cover. On stones encircling a wood fire, all of the vessels were placed where the food might steam until soft, the fresh green bamboo being not at all inflammable.

It was then deep dusk, and we hastened up into the now dark house so that we might be in time to see the illumination. Long torch-chains of biaii nuts, that had been strung a week earlier, were now to be lighted to take the place, for this one night, of the

**" I have been told that the root of a plant, probably saffron, from which a yellow dye is obtained, is used at Ginum to stain the sacrificial food yellow, but, on this occasion, I did not observe that any yellow stain played a part. Mandarangan, however, is said to be very fond of yellow rice. Skeat mentions, frequently, the ceremonial value of yellow among the peninsular Malays; but, as for the Bagobo, red and white seem to be the colors chosen for offerings and for sacrificial use.


ordinary torches of leaf-wrapped resin. To Maying, the second in age of the virgin daughters of Oleng, the privilege of making the sacred illumination was assigned. She hung several strings of biaii nuts on the forked branches of the native candelabra that stood on the floor, and other strings she suspended from house timbers. The nuts were rich in oil, and the flame flared up as soon as lighted, the entire length of the sections being soon a row of flickering lights. The Long House was as bright as if hundreds of candles were burning. The silence was broken by a resounding shout from the men, who now raised the war cry again at the moment the blaze leaped forth.

Close upon the last war cry of that Talun Ginum, arrangements for the evening ceremonial were gotten under way, and the people grouped themselves at their several activities in the appointed places in the Long House: young women attended to the cooking of foods — rice, pig, and venison — for the feast; old women prepared leaf-dishes for a supplementary awas; young men tended the fire under the house and watched the bamboo vessels in which the sacred food was steaming; other young men up in the house helped in the preparation of the feast, by placing cocoanuts ready to be grated at a later hour. Some of the old men sat near the balekat, while talking or making preliminary moves toward the altar ceremony now close at hand. Oleng was on his high seat {dega-dega) just north of the balekat, from which he had been observing carefully the dressing of the fowl, the mixing of the ceremonial food, and the succeeding activities. The weary guests sat in tightly packed lines on the floor, their faces wearing a patient, solemn expression, and waited.

The ceremony over the chicken and omok was performed by Oleng and Ido in front of the balekat, on the west side of the house where broad leaves were laid on the floor. On these, the contents of the nine bamboo vessels containing the cooked rice and cocoanut, and of the two vessels containing the chicken food were poured out, the sarabak leaves being left in the lulutan. The chicken and rice which had been boiled separately were now together in one brown soft mass forming a mixture called taroanan. But in spite of the apparent homogeneity of the food, there was a sharp distinction between the right-hand and the left-hand portions, for, in mixing the chicken and rice, Ido or his assistant poured the contents of the men's bamboo on the rice to his right, and that of the boys^


bamboo on the rice to his left, thus keeping the two apart as Muku had done in filling the vessels. The two halves of the sacred food were marked by two sarabak leaves that Ido laid upon it, one leaf on the right-hand portion and one on the left, with a very narrow space between the ends of the leaves to mark the dividing line.
Upon each sarabak leaf he put eight pieces of areca-nut, and in front of the aisle between the leaves, one entire areca-nut upon a buyo leaf. Standing before Ido were two white bowls for balabba.

Immediately in front of the sacred food, Ido sat, while Oleng took his place a little to the left, at the southeast corner of the altar, and Malik, son-in-law to Oleng, sat between the two datu.
At the south end of the taroanan, were Buak, Inok and Ayang, watching with deep interest the proceedings, and ready to assist in handing about utensils. The chief of Bansalan sat on the dega-dega but fell asleep during the ceremony, and did not waken until near its close.

The only material offerings to be seen besides the food and drink were a small pile of shells, little brass linked chains and miscellaneous ornaments that lay on the floor at Oleng's left hand.
This collective gift, called pamading^ was put there, I was told, so that the Bagobo would get rich; but I did not observe that it was touched during the ceremony, or that attention was directed toward it. No doubt it was a case of simply laying before the gods valued objects, with an expectation of receiving back a manifold increase.

Mention should here be made of four vessels called garong^'^^^ which had an important part to play at the altar ceremonial.
They were large cylinders of freshly-cut laya bamboo, with fitted lids shaped from the nodal joints. The four garong were of uniform size, and each had, perhaps, five or six times the containing capacity of the lulutan in which the rice was cooked. They had been

* ^ ^ Bamboo vessels, looking much alike, receive different names, according to the fanction of each type. The sekkadu is a water-flask; the balanan is a vessel with handles arid contains sugar cane wine; the lulutan is the vessel in which the red rice and cocoanut mixture is steamed, while the garong is a vessel decorated with shavings and reserved
especially for altar use, including the sacred function of being elevated to the shelf with its contents of food or of wine. Each of these vessels consists of one internode of bamboo, of which one of the nodes forms the bottom of the vessel and the other node is utilized, often, for the lid.

I have no record of the specific name for the bamboo vessels that contained the chicken possibly they, too, are called lulutan.


made that same day, immediately after the bamboos were filled with green sprays. Like the bamboos, the four garong were ornamented with festoons of curled shavings peeled off in regular clusters on the surface of the vessel, two garong having nine clusters of shavings, and the other two, eight clusters. Two of these vessels were intended for drink offerings, and two for food offerings. At the beginning of the ceremony we are now discussing, the two garong destined for drink offerings were filled with sugar cane liquor, poured from the balanan by one of the young men who were serving as altar attendants. Prom one of the garong (now full of balabba), the sacred liquor was poured into two bowls that stood in front of Ido, between him and the sacrificial food.
The other garong full of liquor was elevated to the shelf of the balekat. To do this, one of the attendants climbed up from the south wall and then along the roof, until he was close to the south end of the shelf of the balekat. The vessel was then handed up to him by Ido(?) and placed on the shelf, where it remained throughout the following rites.

The more distinctively sacrificial part of the ceremony opened with the stirring of the sugar cane wine in the two bowls. For this purpose two spoons, known as barakas^ were used, the spoons being made of small sections of bulla leaf twisted to the shape of bowl and handle, and the stem-handle tied in a knot. The larger spoon had tied to its handle a red blossom of kalimping, and the smaller spoon was adorned with a scarlet blossom that had tasseled petals. Ido dipped into the bowl of balabba on his right hand the smaller spoon, and, having taken it out with a little of the brown liquor, he laid it with the liquor in it beside the bowl. In the same manner, he dipped the larger spoon into the left-hand bowl, took it out and laid it, holding a few drops of liquor, beside the left-hand bowl. He then stirred the balabba in the bowl to the
right, with a small spray of manangid, and thereupon, either Ido or Oleng, with a second spray of manangid, stirred the contents of the bowl to the left.

The Giirrugga^ or worship, was then performed by Datu Oleng, who, in his priestly character, laid before the Tolus ka Balekat the flesh of a victim slain in sacrifice, together with those selected products of the field and fruit of the trees that are most highly valued by the Bagobo — rice and cocoanut and areca-nuts and the precious wine extracted from sugar cane. In his right hand, Oleng held a


small tube of hard bamboo, such as is used everywhere by the Bagobo to contain powdered lime. Prom the lime-tube, he sprinkled lime on the sixteen pieces of areca-nut, by sifting the white powder in showers through a little sieve stopper of rattan that closed the end of the tube. As he repeated certain ritual words, he made frequent passes, tube in hand, to and fro over the sacred food, often pointing the lime-tube toward the food and toward the areca-nuts on it. In the low, conversational tone of voice so often heard at a Bagobo ceremony, Datu Oleng said: "Tolus ka Balekat, I am making a
Grinum this year for you. I have prepared eight areca-nuts and I pray to you, while offering you the areca-nuts. Tolus ka Balekat, you demand a human victim this year, as in the years before when we celebrated the Ginum, but now we do not kill a man in sacrifice any more, because the Americans now hold control, and we are using a little American custom in giving you no human victim.
Instead, we have killed a chicken, ^^^ which we offer to you with the red rice." Oleng then sprinkled lime on the betel several times, and stirred the balabba in the left hand bowl with his spray of manangid, whereupon Ido stirred the contents of the right hand bowl with the other spray of manangid. Following this, the two spoons of bulla leaf, each still having in it a small amount of balabba, were handed up to be placed upon the shelf of the balekat, the young man, Madaging, having climbed up for that act.

Next followed a ceremonial drinking and a chewing of betel.
Datu Oleng, Datu Ido, Sali, and other men of renown, drank from the two sacred bowls of sugar cane liquor, and passed the bowls from one to another until they were drained to the bottom. There upon, the men about the altar took the sixteen pieces of areca-nut that lay on the sacred food, and chewed them in the customary manner. Some other men then took areca-nut from the altar and chewed it.

Up to this point, the sacrificial food had lain spread out before the god, but in plain sight of all the people as well. Now, it must be passed up for the enjoyment of the great deity of the balekat alone. It was not put back into the same vessels in which it had

'^Whatever kind of sacrifice is asked for by the Tolus ka Balekat, must ... be given, with the exception of the human sacrifice which, as it is expressly stated, may be compounded by the sacrifice of a fowl." W. W. Skeat: Malay Magic, p. 211.

The Malay magician says that "if the spirit craves a human victim a cock may be substituted." Ibid., p. 72.


been cooked, but into the two large shaved bamboo vessels (garong) that still stood empty. Ido filled these garong with the taroanan, or sacred food, and carefully drew together and gathered up the last scraps clinging to the broad leaves on which the food had been spread. Then he closed the vessels with their tight stoppers, and passed them up to be placed on the shelf beside the garong of wine.
There they remained during the music, the dances, the chanting and the feast, and were not taken down until after the old men's statement of exploits.

As soon as the taroanan was elevated to the shelf, Inok hung up, below the balekat, the cocoanut shells that he had tied together at the time the omok was mixed. At that moment, the profound stillness that had lasted for an hour and a half broke to the sound of the big drum, beat with dull monotonous taps, and accompanied by resounding strokes on the agongs. This was the signal announcing the close of the altar ceremonial. All the men who had been drinking balabba at once discharged an animated flow of talk, but the utter silence prevailing throughout the rest of the company remained unbroken.

Before this point in the ceremonies, a supplementary awas had taken place over a number of extremely small leaf dishes which were said to number two hundred — a rite conducted by the old women, Miyanda and Singan. This sacred office was going on at the same time as the altar ceremony, and hence was not observed by me, but was reported to have occurred after the taroanan food was spread on the altar, and before Oleng said the prayers over it. I failed to ascertain what was afterward done with the leaf-dishes, but, if their disposition followed that of the other leaf-dishes at the three preceding awas, they would have been taken out and laid down by the wayside.

It was not until after drum-beat that the chanting of Gindaya began, but from this time on, ceremonial chants were given at intervals throughout the entire night. The sons and nephews of Oleng carried much of the burden of the gindaya; they sang in the customary antiphons, one against one, or two against two, with recitatives intervening in the usual manner.

After the opening performance of gindaya, the music of the agongs called the dancers to the floor. The first dance was done by three warriors alone who were dressed in embroidered trousers, fine beaded jackets and tankulu of a very dark chocolate color, the tint showing that they were brave {magani) men, whose human victims were


many. This and the later dances were all performed in the same part of the house in which the bamboo poles stood, and in which the altar was situated. They danced on the restricted portions of the floor on each side of the two bamboos. This initial dance of the men was followed by a second ceremonial chant.

At this Ginum, there were eleven agongs suspended from the laya rods. Pour of uniform size formed the upper row, and each was named Matio. Just below them hung four others of uniform size, but somewhat larger than the four above them. The agongs in this lower row were called, from left to right, respectively, Tarabun, Mabagong, Marubur, Mabagong. The eight instruments just mentioned were all played by one expert musician, who beat tap-tap while dancing in the customary manner of an agong-player. Suspended just below the eight was another agong considerably larger in circumference, but of shallow convexity. It bore the name of Inagongan, and a woman performed on it, beating an accompaniment to the theme of the leading musician. Beside the Inagongan, hung a very small instrument called Bandiran, on which a child rang the tones.
Some little distance to the right of the ten instruments just named, was suspended an agong of exceedingly large size that was tapped by a man as an accompaniment, and that bore the same name as the woman's instrument — Inagongan. One or two drums, each beaten by two persons, a man and a woman, assisted the eleven agongs at every set performance.

Now came the event that had been looked forward to with keen anticipation by the weary people — the general drinking of the fragrant and delicious balabba. So little food had been served for the preceding twenty-four hours that it seemed more like a day of abstinence than a festival, for when the Bagobo are preparing for a great celebration, they pay no attention to bodily wants. Many of the guests had tramped a long distance over the mountains and were very tired; the refreshment of this first drink of balabba relieved the tension greatly. When the liquor was served, separate cups were supplied to the special guests, but a few large bowls sufficed for the majority of the company, who passed the same bowl from hand to hand. As fast as emptied, the bowls were refilled from the large metal jar, or from the fourth garong of bamboo.

Three successive periods of chanting Gindaya succeeded the drinking. Then followed the beating of agongs in dance measure,


a signal which brought girl dancers to the floor. '^^^ They were in festival costume of shining hemp skirts; short, tight-fitting waists of cotton, decorated with conventional designs done in fine needle-work; bracelets and leglets of brass and of bell-metal cast from a wax mould.
These ornaments Avere hollow, and each inclosed a number of tiny, freely-rolling globes of metal that tinkled in the movements of the dance. The girls wore, also, necklaces of beads, pure white or many-colored; inlaid ear-plugs connected by tasseled pendants of white beads that passed under the chin; and some wore wide belts bordered with small, hand-cast bells.

When the dancing was done, two young men approached the bamboos, and standing there, each with one arm encircling a pole, they began afresh the monotonous yet sweet-toned chant that lasted until the banquet opened.

Ever since the conclusion of the altar ceremony, many women and men had been dishing up food and making preparations for serving that houseful of guests. All of this work was going on at one end of the Long House, while the chanting and the dancing were in progress at the other end. Under Sigo's direction, Sambil, Sebayan and three other girls, filled the hemp-leaf dishes that had been made days earlier with an appetizing mess just dished from the big clay pots, and called humodn. The ingredients were white rice, grated cocoanut, hashed venison and pig fat. Other delicious cocoanut mixtures were being prepared to be served with the kumoan. Several of the young men halved and grated the cocoanuts, whereupon other men caught up the white shreds by handfuls and mixed with boiled and slivered fish, manipulating the food swiftly with fingers and palms. Other men mixed bits of venison with grated cocoanut, and still others cut off narrow, thin slices of fresh boiled pork. Three men were kept busy in handing out to the women these foods as they were ready. Bansag handed up the pork; another man, the cocoanut-venison; and another, the cocoanut-fish. The five girls filled all of the leaf-dishes — an individual leaf-dish for each guest, and one for every member of the
family. They pressed into each leaf-dish a large portion of the rice and meat stew, and a small portion of cocoanut venison and of cocoanut-fish.

^^^See also pp. 85 — 87 for a discussion of the dance. The Bagobo say that Mandarangan comes to see the dance, and watches its performance with pleasure.


Finally, there is a short awas performed over a great number of extremely small leaf-dishes, with an intention not materially differing from that of the two preceding Awas. This last I shall call simply a supplementary awas. It forms an element of the ritual on the last night of Ginum.

Bagobo Ceremonial Magic and Myth

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