Ang Pabula ng Lobo at ng Kambing

Isang lobo ang nahulog sa balon na walang tubig. Sinikap niya ang tumalon upangmaka-ahong palabas, ngunit lubhang malalim ang balon na kanyang kinahulugan.

Noon dumating ang isang uhaw na uhaw na kambing. Lumapit ito sa balon atnarining ang tinig ng lobo. "Marami bang tubig sa loob ng balon?" tanong nito salobo. "Oo, napakarami!" ang pagsisinungaling na sagot naman ng lobo.

Hindi na nagdalawang-isip pa ang kambing. Agad itong tumalon sa balon. Atnalaman ngang siya'y niloko lamang ng lobo. "Ngayo'y pareho na tayong bilanggong balon na ito," ang sabi ng lobo. "Mamamatay tayo sa uhaw at gutom dito," angsabi ng kambing.

"Kung gusto mong makaalis dito, magtulungan tayo. Mayroon akong naisip naparaan kung papaano nating gagawin iyon."

"Papaano?"

Noon ipinatong ng lobo ang mga paa sa katawan ng kambing. "Ako muna anglalabas. At kapag nakalabas na ako, at saka kita hahatakin palabas," pangako nito."Sige," ang sabi naman ng kambing.

Nakalabas nga ng balon ang lobo sa tulong ng kambing. Ngunit noong pagkakataonna ng kambing para tulungan nito'y agad iyong tumawa ng malakas. Pagkuwa'ysinabing, "Walang lobong manloloko kung walang kambing na magpapaloko.

"Malungkot na naiwanan ang kambing sa malalim na balon.

Alamat ng Nangka Marikina

Ang Alamat ng Nangka
ni: Jonathan Javier

Noong unang panahon, may isang lugar sa Marikina na hindi pa kilala.Ang lugar na ito ay masukal, maraming puno at may isang maliit na batis naumaagos sa mahabang daan. Sa gitna ng lugar na ito ay may nakatayong kuboat doon ay nakatira ang mag-asawang Aling Lala at Mang Kaka. Ang mag-asawang ito ay napakasipag at napakabait dahil lahat ng mga taongpumupunta at lumalapit sa kanilang bahay ay kanilang pinatutuloy kahit nahindi nila ito kakilala.

Masipag ang mag-asawang Lala at Kaka. Nagtatanim sila ng iba’t ibang uri ng gulay at tuwing sumasapit ang anihan ay inilalako ito ni Aling Lala paramayroon silang pambili ng bigas at iba pang pang-araw-araw na pangangailangan. Nagtatanim din sila ng iba’t ibang uri ng prutas na halosnakapalibot ito sa kanilang bahay na siya namang pinagkakaabalahang anihinni Mang Kaka tuwing namumunga at inilalako sa palengke.

Matagal ng naninirahan ang mag-asawa sa lugar na iyon. Halos doon narin sila tumanda ng ilang taon at sa kasamaang palad, hindi sila biniyayaan nganak. Ngunit malaki parin ang kanilang pasasalamat dahil sa mga biyayangipinagkaloob sa kanila ng panginoon.

Isang araw, may dumating na grupo ng kalalakihan sa kanilang bahay.May mga hawak na armas. Hindi alam ng mag-asawa kung ano ang pakay ngmga ito. Nagsalita ang isang matangkad na lalake.

“Umalis na kayo sa lugar na ito!” Sa nabanggit ng lalakeng ito ay agad na
bumwelta si Mang Kaka at akmang galit sa lalake.

“Bakit kami aalis dito? Ano ang karapatan ninyo upang kami ay paalisin?”

 “Kailangan na ninyong umalis dito dahil ipapaputol na namin ang mga punong kahoy at patatayuin ng mga bahay.” Ngunit nagmatigas parin ang mag-asawa. Ayaw talaga nilang umalis sa kanilang lugar. “Dito kami tumanda at dito na rin kami mamamatay!” Ang galit na sabi ni Aling Lala.

“Umalis na kayo dito! Hindi ninyo kami mapapaalis. Layas!” Ang sigaw ni
Mang Kaka.Umalis na nga ang mga kalalakihan ngunit nag-iwan naman ito ng isangsalita at babala sa mag-asawa.

“Pagbalik namin dito, dapat ay nakaalis na kayo dahil kung hindi, pipilitin na talaga naming kayong umalis o kaya’y may mangyayari sa inyo!” Makalipas ang isang linggo, bumalik ang grupo ng kalalakihan sa bahay ng mag-asawa at pilit nila itong pinapalayas. Lumabas si Mang Kaka. “Hindi ninyo kami mapapalayas dito! Magkapatayan man, ipaglalaban naming ang
aming karapatan.” Walang anu
-
ano’y ikinasa ng isang lalake ang kanyang baril at itinaas saka nagpaputok. “Umalis na kayo! Dahil kung hindi, papatayin namin kayo.”

“Hindi kami aa….” Akmang itutuloy na sana ni Mang Kaka ang kanyangsasabihin ng bigla itong binaril sa dibdib. Natumba si Mang Kaka at sakaisinunod naman si Aling Lala. Nang napatay na nila ang mga ito, sinunognaman nila ang kanilang bahay kasama ang bangkay ng mag-asawa. Naabo itoat ni isa ay walang natira kahit buto man lang.

Pagkalipas ng ilang linggong pagkaka sunog, bumalik ang mga grupo ngkalalakihan at sa mismong nasunog na bahay ay may nakita silang tumubongisang puno ng kahoy na namumunga ng pagkalakilaki at may tusok tusok sabalat. Tinawag nila itong Langka at di naglaon ay naging Nangka na siya nangayon ay isa ng barangay sa Lungsod ng Marikina.

Alamat ng Bayambang, Pangasinan

ALAMAT NG BAYAMBANG
(Pangasinan)

Kapapadpad pa lamang ng mga kastila dito sa ating Bansa. Sinasabi ring wala pang mga pangalan
ang iba’t ibang lupain sa Pilipinas.

 Sa isang maliit na bayan, kakaunti pa lamang ang naninirahan. Sa lugar na ito na lubhang napakarami ng punong kahoy. Karamihan sa mga ito ay ang puno na nagngangalang “alibangbang”.

 Sa bayang ito lumaki at nagkaisip si Elias. Si Elias ay maagang naulila. Natuklaw ng ahas angkanyang ama at ang ina naman ay namatay sa pagluluwal sa kanya. Dahil ulila ay natuto si Elias namamuhay na nag-iisa. Pangangahoy ang kanyang iknabubuhay. Maghapon siyang mangangahoy atkinabukasan ay iluluwas niya sa bayan ang kanyang mga nakahoy upang doon ipagbili. Sa ganitongparaan nabuhay si Elias.

Noon ay panahon ng Kastila, karamihan sa mga kababayan ni Elias ay hindi gaanong naglalabasng bahay. Sa kadahilanang natatakot sila na makita ng mga dayuhan. Tanging ang batang si Eliaslamang ang araw-araw umaalis ng bahay.

Isang araw sa kanyang pamamahinga sa ilalim ng punong alibangbang ay may mga kastilang
dumaraan.. Katanghalian noon kaya’t ang mga dayuhan ay sumilong din sa lilim. Nasiyahan naman angmga ito sa pamamahinga sa ilalim ng puno. Dahilan kung kaya’t tinanong nila ang pangalan ng puno.

“Alibangbang,” ang sagot ni Elias.

Sa kadahilanang hindi gaanong sanay ng salitang Tagalog ang mga Kastila ay hindi nila masabi
ang alibangbang,sa halip ay “Bayambang”. Simula noon, ang maliit na bayan ay tinawag na “nayon ngBayambang.”

Alamat ng Palay

Noong unang panahon ang mga tao ay walang palay. Ang kanilang kinakain ay gulay, bungang-kahoy, isda, at mga hayop. Sila ay nangangaso sa gubat at nangunguha ng bungang-kahoy sa parang. Sila ay maligaya roon.

Nawala na ang mga hayop sa gubat at iilan na lamang ang mga bungang-kahoy. Ang mga tao ay nalungkot.

Ang mga lalaki ay nangaso sa bundok. Sila'y pagod na pagod at gutom na gutom. Sila'y nagpapahinga ng dumating ang magagandang dalaga. Ang mga ito ay engkantada pala. Sila ay makapangyarihan subalit magagalang.

Ang mga mngangaso ay kinumbida ng mga engkantada. Sila'y nagpunta sa yungib. Dito ay napakarami pala ang engkantada. Sila'y may reyna. Sila'y nagsaya noon, nag-awitan, at nagsayaw.

Nagkaroon ng kainan. Nakita ng mga mangangaso ang malalaking tagayan. Ang mga ito ay punong-puno ng pagkain na puting-puti. Noon lamang sila nakakita ng putting pagkain.

Matapos ang kainan at ang mga lalaki ay nagging bata. Sila ay kumakas. Sila'y pinainom ng puting alak at sila'y at nagging matalino.

Gusto ng umuwi ng mangangaso. Ang reyna ay nagsalita, " Kayo'y bibigyan ko ng butyl. Ito'y itanim ninyo sa tag-ulan. Alam kong kayo aymabubuti kaya iyan ay sisibol. Iyan ay mamumunga. Aanihin ninyo ang bunga."

"Ang mga butil na inani ay bayuhin at linisin. Ang butyl ay magiging bigas. Ito ay lutuin. Iyan ang inyong pagkain. Iyan ang kaloob ko sa mga tao. Hala, umuwi na kayo."

Sumunod sa bilin ang mga tao. Ang bigas na niluto ang kauna-unahang kanin sa daigdig.

Alamat ng Sampaguita

Ang sampaguita, na ating pambansang bulaklak, ay may iniingatang isang magandang alamat. Ang dalawang pangunahing tauhan ay bibigyan natin ng mga makabagong pangalan, bagaman ayon sa mattanda, ang mga tagpong inilalarawan sa kuwento ay nangyari noong bago pa dumating dito sa atin ang mga Kastila.

Noo'y panahon pa ng mga baranggay at datu. Ang Balintawak at ang Gagalangin ay baranggay na magkapit-bahay. Sa pagitan ay may isang matibay na bakod na yari sa mga pinatuyong kawayan , na tuwing limang taon ay ginigiba at pinapalitan. Kung minsan, ang nagpapalit ay ang mga kawal ng datu sa Gagalangin; kung minsan naman ay ang mga kawal ng datu sa Balintawak. Ngunit ang lahat ay gumagawa alinsunod sa utos ng kani-kanilang puno.

Ang datu ng Balintawak ay mayroon daw isang anak na dalaga na walang pangalawa sa kagandahan, maging sa mukha at sa pag-uugali. Ang ngalan niya ay Rosita, wala na siyang ina, datapuwa't mayroon siyang apat na abay na pawang mga dalaga rin; sila ang nag-aasikaso sa kanyang mga pangangailangan. Maraming binatang nagingibig sa kanya, ngunit ang nakabihag ng kanyang mailap na puso ay ang anak na binata ng datu ng Gagalangin na nangangalang Delfin.

Nakapagtataka kung bakit gaong ang kanilang mga ama ay mahigpit na magkaaway ay sila'y tinubuan ng pag-ibig sa isa't isa. Marangal ang pag-ibig ni Delfin kay Rosita -- walang halong pag-iimbot, alang ano mang masamang hangarin. Sa isang sulok ng bakod ng hanggahan natatabingan ng malagong halaman, si Delfin ay gumagawa ng isang lihim na lagusan kanayang madaraanan. Kaya'tkung gabing maliwanag ang buwan, malimit daw magpasayal sila ni Rosita, kasama ang mga abay na dalaga. Sinasamyo nila ang malinisna simoy ng kabukiran at pinanonood nila ang kaayaayang mukha ng buwan. Ang pag-iibigan nilang iyon ay lingid sa kaalaman ng kanilang mga magulang.

Minsan, nabalitaan ng datu ng Gagalangin na ang hanggahang bakod ay binubuwag at pinapalitan ng mga taga-Balintawak. Nag-utos siya sa ilan niyang mga tauhan upang magmasid sa ginagawang pagbabakod ng mga taga-Balintawak. Nang sila'y magbali, tumanggap siya ng blita na ang bagong bakod na itinatayo ay iniusod nang may limang talampakan sa dako ng Gagalangin, at samakatuwid ay nakakakuha sa kanilang lupa. Agad siyang nagpautos sa datu ng Balintawak.

"Sabihin ninyo," anya sa mga utusan, " na ibalik ang bakod sa dating kintatayuan. Hindi matuwid ang kanilang ginagawa, sapagka't tunay na isang pagnanakaw."

Nagalit ang datu ng Balintawak nang humarap sa kanya ang mga sugong buhat sa Gagalangin at sabihin sa kanya ang biling ng datu roon. "Sabihin niyo sa inyong datu," ang wika niya sa mga sugo," naako'y hindi magnanakaw. Ang bakod ay binbalik ko lamang sa dapat kalgyan ayon sa natuklasan kong mga kasulatan ng aking mga nuno."

Ipinag-alab bg loob ng ama ni Delfin ang tinanggap niyang balita. Sagayung mga alitan, ang karaniwang nagiging hangganan ay digmaan.

Inihanda ng datu ng Gagalangin ang kanyang mga hukbo.Kailangang bawiin niya sa pamamagitan ng patalim ang lupang sa palagay niya ay ninakaw sa kanya. Nang mabalitaan ng datu ng Balintawak na ang Gagalangin ay naghahanda upang siya ay digmain, iginayak din niya ang kanyang mga kawal. Nang malapit na ang araw ng paglusob ng hukbo ng Gagalangin sa mga taga-Balintawak, ang datu ay biglang dinapuan ng isang mahiwagang karamdaman at di nagtagal ay namatay. Naiwan kay Delfin ang isang mabigat napanagutan: siya ang magiging heneral ng hukbo ng Gagalangin.

Nang makarating sa kaalaman ni Rosita ang bagay na ito, siya'y kinabahan. Si Delfin ay batang-bata at wala pang gaanong karanasan sa digmaan, samatalang ang kanyang ama ay nahasa na sa maraming pakikilaban sapul pagkabata. Gayon na lamang ang kanyang pag-aalala. Ibig sana niyang magkausap sila ni Delfin upang ito'y himuking iurong na ang digmaan at mapayapang pakipag-usapan sa ama niya ang lahat. Datapuwa't wala na silang panahon upang magkausap pa. Kinabukasan noo'y lalabas na sa larangan ang kanyang ama sa unahan ng isang malaking hukbo.

Naging madugo ang labanan nang magsagupa ang dalawang hukbo. Maraming nalagas sa magkabilang panig. Si Delfin ay natadtad ng sugat , at dahil sa masaganang dugong nawala sa kanya, siya'y nabuwal na lamang at sukat sa lupa. Bago siya nalagutan ng hininga, ipinagbilin niya sa kanyang mga kawal na doon siya ilibing sa tabi ng hanggahang bakod, malapit sa lihim na lagusang dinaraanan niya kung gabing maliwanag ang buwan at sila ni Rosita, kama ng mga abay nito, ay mapayapang namamasyal sa makapal na damuhan.

Hindi nabanggit ng mga matatandang nagkuwento ang sinapitna buhay ng dalawang magsing-ibig, kung ano ang naging hanggan ng labanan. Ang sabi lamang nila ay ganito : nang mabalitaan ni Rosita ang pagkamatay ni Delfin sa labanan, ang dalaga'y nagkasakit sa matinding dalamhati. Nagpatawag ng magagaling na mangagamot ang datung ama niya, ngunit sino man sa kanila'y hindi nakapagpagaling sa kaawa-awang dalaga. Unti-unti itong pinanawan ng lakas. Nang sa palagay ni Rosita ay hindi siya magtatagal, hiningi niya sa kanyang ama na ang bangkay niya'y doon lamang ilibing sa tabi ng pinaglibingan kay Delfin. Masaklap man sa kalooban ng datu, pinagbigyan niya ang kahilingan ng minamahal niyang anak.

Maraming taon ang lumipas mula noon. Nawala na ang mga baranggay at dumating na ang mga Kastila. Naitatag na ang siyudad ng Maynila. At buhat noo'y marami ng tao sa Balintawak at sa Gagalangin. Ngunit ang mga tao sa dalawang pook na ito ay naliligalig sa isang mahiwagang bagay. Kung buwan daw ng Mayo, lalu na kung mga gabing maliwanag ang buwan, may mahiwagang tinig na naririnig ang nagsisipanirahan sa may pagitan ng ng dalwang nayong naturan. Ang tinig ay waring sa isang babae at malambing daw na parang marahang bulong ng panggabing hanging humahalik sa mga dahon ng halaman. "Sumpa kita! ...Sumpa kita!" ang winiwika raw ng tinig. Ngunit ang mga tao, kung minsa't sila'y nagbabantay, ay wala namang nakikita. Napansin nila na ang waring nagmumula sa isang masukal na dako, na sinibulan ng dalawang puno ng halamang ang mga bulaklak ay may kaliitan datapuwa't maputi, maraming talulot at ang iwing bango'y pambihira. Ganyan ang lagi nang nasasaksihan ng mga tao roon kung buwan ng Mayo, taun-taon.

Sa di-kawasa'y naisipan nilang hukayin ang dalawang halamang iyon upang matuklasan ang hiwaga ng malambing na tinig at ang kahulugan ng mga salitang sinasambit. Hindi naman sila gaanong naghirap. Nguni't ang kanilang pagtataka'y lalo pang nadagdagan nang makita nilang ang dalwang puno ng mababangong halaman ay nagmumula sa mga bibig ng dalawang bungong hindi gaanong nagkakalayo sa pagkakabaon, at nakakabit pa rin sa kalansay. Ngayo'y nanariwa sa alala ng mga matatanda ang kasaysayan ng dalawang kapos-palad - Si Delfin at si Rosita. Samantala....

Ang kuwento'y nagkasalin-salin sa maraming bibig, at ang "Sumpa kita!" na inihahatid ng panggabing simoy sa pandinig ng mga nagmamatyag ay naging "Sampaguita" , na siyang iningalan na tuloy sa mahalimuyak na bulaklak ng halamang tumutubo sa libing ng magsing-irog.

Alamat ng Tandang

Si Sidapa na Bathala ng Digmaan ay lagi nang nilalapitan ng mga datu upang mapanatili ang kapayapaan sa kanilang barangay. Alam ni Sidapa na nasa pakikipagkaibigan ng mga pinuno ang susi upang hindi matuloy ang alinmang digmaan.

Sumisikat pa lang ang araw ay nakapila na ang maraming puno ng barangay. Si Sidapa ang nagpapayo upang mapanatili ang kapayapaan sa kani-kanilang lugar.

May mga pagkakataong hindi kaagad nakakasangguni ang mga datu. Nagkakalaban ang mga puno. Kapag nangyari ito, nauuwi sa digmaan ang mga barangay.

Matutulis na sibat ang karaniwang panlaban ng mga mandirigma. Kapag may nasusugatan o namamatay sa labanan, lubos na nalulungkot si Sidapa.

Kapag napagkakasundo ni Sidapa ang nagkakahidwaang mga raha ay natutuwa siya. Naliligayahan siyang nagbibigayan at may respeto sa isa't isa ang bawat datu. Naniniwala si Sidapa na kapag may digmaan ay walang pag-iibigan. Na kapag may pag-iibigan ay walang digmaan. Lagi niyang pangarap na nag-uusap-usap ang lahat at naggagalangan.

Sa dami ng mga mamamayan, datu at mga barangay sa bayan-bayan, at sa dami rin ng problema na inihahain kay Sidapa, kailangang may nagpapaalala sa kanya sa tuwi-tuwina. Kailangan ding may gigising sa kanya tuwing madaling araw bilang hudyat na may mga datu nang naghahain ng problema.

Isa sa mga sundalo ni Sidapa ang nagprisintang orasan niya. Obligasyon niyang paalalahanan si Sidapa na oras na ng pagkain, o oras nang tapusin ang isang pulong, o oras nang humarap sa ilang bisita, o oras nang magbigay desisyon sa isang problema. Pinakamahirap na Gawain ng Sundalong Orasan ang paggising nang napakaaga tuwing madaling araw. Noong unang mga lingo ay laging napakaaga niyang gumising pero kapag napapakuwento siya sa mga kapwa sundalo ay bahagya siyang nahuhuli sa paggising kay Sidapa.

Mapagpasensya ang bathala niya. Lagi itong pinagbibigyan ang Sundalong Orasan. Upang ganahan sa trabaho ay dinadagdagan ni Sidapa ang mga insentibo nitong pilak, damit at pagkain para sa pamilya.

Tuwang-tuwa naman ang Sundalong Orasan pero mahina itong manindigan. Sa kaunting aya ng mga kaibigan ay natatangay siya upang uminom ng alak. Hindi lamang isa o dalawang kopita, kunidi maraming alak na nagpapalasing sa kanya.

Sa pagkalasing ay naibalita pa niya sa ilang kawal ng naglalabang tribo ang mga sikretong pandigmaang di dapat na ipaalam. Galit na galit si Sidapa. Maraming hindi pagkakaunawaan ang naganap dahil hindi siya ginising ng Sundalong Orasan sa madaling araw.

Nang matuloy ang isang madugong digmaan ng dalawang malaking barangay ay ipinatawag ni Sidapa ang Sundalong Orasan.

Lasing na lasing ang Sundalong Orasan nang humarap sa kanyang bathala.

"Ikaw ang dahilan sa madugong digmaang sana ay naiwasan."

"Pa...patawad po, Bathalang Sidapa."

"Pinagbibigyan na kita ng ulang ulit! Marami ang namatay dahil sa iyong kapabayaan. Wala kang utang na loob. Ang mga lihim pandirigmaan at pangkapayapaan ay ipinaalam mo sa lahat. Ang obligasyon mong gisingin ako sa madaling araw ay hindi mo pinahahalagahan. Bilang parusa , magiging isang hayop kang walang gagawin kundi gisingin ang daigdig tuwing nagmamadaling araw!"

Sa isang kisapmata ang Sundalong Orasan ay lumiit nang lumiit. Nagkabalahibo ito sa buong katawan. Naging pakpak ang mga kamay at nagkatahid ang mga paa. Sa halip na magsalita ay tumilaok itong parang nanggigising.

Sa sobrang kahihiyan, lumipad papalabas ng tahanan ni Sidapa ang Sundalong Orasan na magmula noon ay tinatawag na Tandang. Ang Tandang na tumitilaok sa madaling araw ang nagpapaalalang siya ang unang tagagising ng sandaigdigan.

Ito ang pinagmulan ng alamat ng Tandang.

Alamat ng Tiyanak

Si Isko ay isang magsasaka. Isang araw habang naglalakad mula sa kanyang tahanan patungong bayan upang mamili sa palengke ng mga gagamitin niya sa pagsasaka. Malayo-layo rin ang kanyang lalakbayin. Sa isang liblib na lugar na malapit sa may batis ay may narinig siyang isang malakas na iyak ng bata. Si Isko ay nagtataka kung papaano nagkaroon ng sanggol sa lugar na iyon. Hinanap niya ito hanggang sa ito’y kanyang natagpuan. Nagulat si Isko ng makita niya ang isang sanggol na hubo’t-hubad na nakahiga sa damuhan.

Dahil si Isko ay likas na maawain ay kinuha niya ang sanggol. “Sino kayang ina na walang puso ang nag-iwan nito” ani ni Isko. Naisip ni Isko na dalhin sa bayan ang sanggol. Habang siya ay naglalakad, karga niya ang sanggol na patuloy ang pag-iyak, “Siguro ay giniginaw ang sanggol na ito” ani Isko. Upang mabawasan ang ginaw ng sanggol ay kanyang binuksan ang pagkakabutones ng kanyang damit at ibinalot ang kawawang sanggol. Tumahan ang sanggol at ito naman ay ikinatuwa ni Isko.

Ilang saglit ang nakalipas ay nakaramdam si Isko na bahagyang kirot sa knayang tagiliran. Ito’y sinawalang bahala niya sa pag-aakalang ni lalaro lamang ng sanggol ang knayang sarili. Ilang sandali pa ay naramdaman niyang tila bumibigat ang sanggol. “kapag nagpatuloy pa ito ay ilalabas ko na sa loob ng aking damit.” Nang hindi na niya matagalan ay inilabas na niya ito at pinagmasdan. Ang gulat ni Isko ng kanyang makita na ang sanggol pala ay isang halimaw, nakakatakot ng itsura. Isang matandang duwende na mabalahibo, Malaki at matatalim ang ngipin. Kinagat ng duwende ang kaniyang tagiliran at nakapag-iwan ito ng malalim na sugat. “Isa kang tiyanak.” Sigaw ni Isko at kaniyang inihagis ang tiyanak. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” halakhak ng halimaw. “Natikman ko rin ang iyong dugo.” Wika nito at ito’y biglang naglaho. Duguan ang tagiliran ni Isko. Kaya’t nagtungo siya sa bayan upang ipagamot ang kanyang sugat.

Alamat ng Matsing

Sa mayamang kaharian, noong unang panahon, ay may isang prinsesang ubod ng ganda. Siya ai si Prinsesa Amapela na ang lahat ay humahanga sa taglay na kagandahan.

Ngunit sa likod ng kanyang kagandahan ay napakasamang ugali.Ang prinsesa ay ubod ng sungit at suplada. Napakataas ng pagtingin niya sa kanyang sarili.

"Ayoko sa mga taong pangit! Palayasin sila sa palasyo!" ang palding sigaw nito sa tuwing makakakita ng pangit sa palasyo.

Dahil sa prinsesa, ang lahat lamang ng magaganda ang nakakapasok at nakakapagtrabaho sa loob ng palasyo. At ang mga pangit ay itinaboy sa labas upang maging mga alipin at manggagawa.

Sa paglipas ng panahon, dumating ang takdang araw sa pagpili ni Prinsesa Amapela ng mapapangasawa. At naghanda nga ang kaharian.Inimbitahan ang maraming maharlikang tao buhat sa ibaaa't ibang kaharian. Nagsidating din ang maraming makikisig na prinsipe, upang ang isa sa sa kanila ay ang siyang mapangasawa ng ng prinsesa.

Di nagtagal, nagsimjula ng mamilii si Prinsesa Amapela ng mapapangasawa. Ang lahat ng prrinsipe ay tumayo sa kanyang harapan at nagbigay-galang. Isa sa mga prinsipe ang nagustuhan ng prinsesa, at ito'y si Prinsipe Algori.

Si Prinsipe Algori ay isang napakasipag na prrinsipe, na animo Adonis na namumukod tangi sa lahat ng naroroon.Ngunit bago pa man napili ni Prinsesa Amapela ang makisig na prinsipe, ay may nakita siya na napakapangit-pangit na prinsipe na nakatayo sa likuran nito.

Hindi napigilan ng prinsesa ang sarili.

"Sino ka? Hindi ka nahiya saiyong sarili! Napakapangit mo! Lumayas ka rito at magbalik ka na sa kwebang pinanggalingan mo!" ang bulyaw nito. Nabigla ang lahat sa nasal ng prinsesa.

"Siya ang aking napili! Si Prinsipe Algori! Siya ang aking mapapangasawa," ang agad na idinugtong nito sabay turo kay Prinsipe Algori.

Masayang lumapit si Prrinsipe Algori sa prinsesa at humalik sa kamay nito. Isa isa ng nag-alisan ang mga nabigong prinssipe, ngunit nanatiling nakatayo sa harapan ang pangit na prinsipe.

"Ano pa ang hinihintay mo! Lumayas ka na! Ayaw kitang Makita!" ang muling bulyaw ng prinsesa na tila nandidiri.

Malumanay na nagsalita ang prinsipeng pangit, Hindi ako manghihinayang sa isang tulad mo. Kung ano ang ganda ng iyong mukha ay siya naming kapangitan ng iyong ugali," ang wika nito.

Bigla ay nagbago ang anyo ng prinsipeng pangit. Ito ay nagging isang napakakisig na lalaki, higit kay Prinsipe Algori.

Namangha ang lahat, sapagkat ang pangit na prinsipe ay ang "Diyos pala ng Kakisigan." Bumababa ang isang kumpol ng ulap, at sumakay rito ang "Diyos na Kakisigan," at tuluyan nang lumisan.

Nanghinayang ang lahat lalo na ang hari at reyna. Ngunit higit sa lahat, nanghnayang nang husto si Prinsesa Amapela bagay na hindi niya pinahalata.

Agad na ikinasal ng hari sina Prinsesa Amapela at Prrinssipe Algori. Ngunit matapos ang kasal, ganun na lamang ang gulat ng lahat.

Ngayong mag-aswa na tayo kailangan mong sumama sa aking kaharian, "ang wika ni Prinsipe Algori.

"Anong ibig mong sabihin?" ang nagtatakang tanong ng prinsesa.

Bigla, nabago aang anyo ni Prinsipe Algori. Ito ay naging kakaibang nilalang ng puno ng balahibo ang buong katawan. Nagsigawan at nasindak ang lahat, lalo pa't bigla na lang nabago ang anyo ni Prinsesa A mapela. Nabalot din ito ng balahibo sa buong katawan, at nagkaroon pa ng buntot.

Hindi makapaniwala ang lahat, subalit huli na,.Dinala na si Prinsesa Amapela sa kagubatan ni Prinsipe Algori, na siya palang "Diyos ng mga hayop sagubat." At si Prinsesa Amapela ang kauna-unahang matsing sa kagubatan. Ito ang nagging parrusa ng kanyang pagiging suplada at mapagmataas.

Kaya dapat nating tandaan na hindi natin dapat husgahan ang tao sa kanyang panlabas na anyo, dahil ang higit na mahalaga ay ang tunay na pagkatao at pag-uugali.

Alamat ng mga Gulay

- Alamat ng Singkamas

- Alamat ng Kamote

- Alamat ng Mais

- Alamat ng Kasoy

Alamat ng mga Gulay

Auac and Lamiran

Auac and Lamiran.

Narrated by Anastacia Villegas of Arayat, Pampanga. She heard the story from her father, and says that it is well known among the Pampangans.

Once Auac, a hawk, stole a salted fish which was hanging in the sun to dry. He flew with it to a branch of acamanchile-tree, where he sat down and began to eat. As he was eating, Lamiran, a squirrel who had his house in a hole at the foot of the tree, saw Auac. Lamiran looked up, and said, “What beautiful shiny black feathers you have, Auac!” When he [396]heard this praise, the hawk looked very dignified. Nevertheless he was much pleased. He fluttered his wings. “You are especially beautiful, Auac, when you walk; for you are very graceful,” continued the squirrel. Auac, who did not understand the trick that was being played on him, hopped along the branch with the air of a king. “I heard some one say yesterday that your voice is so soft and sweet, that every one who listens to your song is charmed. Please let me hear some of your notes, you handsome Auac!” said the cunning Lamiran. Auac, feeling more proud and dignified than ever, opened his mouth and sang, “Uac-uac-uac-uac!” As he uttered his notes, the fish in his beak fell to the ground, and Lamiran got it.
A heron which was standing on the back of a water-buffalo near by saw the affair. He said, “Auac, let me give you a piece of advice. Do not always believe what others tell you, but think for yourself; and remember that ‘ill-gotten gains never prosper.’ ”

Notes.

This is the old story of the “Fox and Crow [and cheese],” the bibliography for which is given by Jacobs (2 : 236). Jacobs sees a connection between this fable and two Buddhistic apologues:—
(1) The “Jambu-khādaka-jātaka,” No. 294, in which we find a fox (jackal) and a crow flattering each other. The crow is eating jambus, when he is addressed thus by the jackal:—

“Who may this be, whose rich and pleasant notes

Proclaim him best of all the singing birds,

Warbling so sweetly on the jambu-branch,

Where like a peacock he sits firm and grand!”

The crow replies,—

“ ’Tis a well-bred young gentleman who knows

To speak of gentlemen in terms polite!

Good sir,—whose shape and glossy coat reveal

The tiger’s offspring,—eat of these, I pray!”

Buddha, in the form of the genius of the jambu-tree, comments thus on their conversation:—

“Too long, forsooth, I’ve borne the sight

Of these poor chatterers of lies,—

The refuse-eater and the offal-eater

Belauding each other.”

(2) The “Anta-jātaka,” No. 295, in which the rôles are reversed, [397]the crow wheedling flesh from the jackal; here, too, the Buddha comments as above.
Our Pampangan story is of particular interest because of the moralizing of the heron at the end, making the form close to that of the two Jātakas. Possibly our story goes back to some old Buddhistic fable like these. The squirrel (or “wild-cat,” as Bergafio’s “Vocabulario,” dated 1732, defines lamiran) is not a very happy substitution for the original ground-animal, whatever that was; for the squirrel could reach a fish hanging to dry almost as easily as a bird could. Besides, squirrels are not carnivorous. Doubtless the older meaning of “wild-cat” should be adopted for lamiran.
[398]

The Camanchile and the Passion

The Camanchile and the Passion.

Narrated by Fernando M. Maramag of Ilagan, Isabella province. He says that this is an Ilocano story.

Once upon a time there grew in a forest a large camanchile-tree1 with spreading branches. Near this tree grew many other trees with beautiful fragrant flowers that attracted travellers. The camanchile had no fragrant flowers; but still its crown was beautifully shaped, for the leaves received as much light as the leaves of the other trees. But the beauty of the crown proved of no attraction to travellers, and they passed the tree by.
One day Camanchile exclaimed aloud, “Oh, what a dreary [395]life I lead! I would that I had flowers like the others, so that travellers would visit me often!” A vine by the name of Passion, which grew near by, heard Camanchile’s exclamation. Now, this vine grew fairly close to the ground, and consequently received “only a small amount of light. Thinking that this was its opportunity to improve its condition, it said, “Camanchile, why is your life dreary?”
“Ah, Passion!” replied Camanchile, “just imagine that you were unappreciated, as I am! Travellers never visit me, for I have no flowers.”
“Oh, that’s easy!” said Passion. “Just let me climb on you, and I’ll display on your crown my beautiful flowers. Then many persons will come to see you.” Camanchile consented, and let Passion climb up on him. After a few days Passion reached the top of the tree, and soon covered the crown.
A few months later Camanchile realized that he was being smothered: he could not get light, so he asked Passion to leave him. “O Passion! what pain I am in! I can’t get light. Your beauty is of no value. I am being smothered: so leave me, I beg of you!”
Passion would not leave Camanchile, however, and so Camanchile died.
MORAL: Be yourself.

Note.

With this story compare the “Palāsa-jātaka,” No. 370, which tells how a Judas-tree was destroyed by the parasitic growth of a banyan-shoot. The general idea is the same in both stories, though I hardly suspect that ours is descended from the Indian. The situation of a tree choked to death by a parasite is such a commonplace in everyday experience, that a moral story based on it might arise spontaneously almost anywhere.

---

1Camanchile, Pithecolobium dulce Benth. (Leguminosæ), a native of tropical America; introduced into the Philippines by the Spaniards probably in the first century of Spanish occupation; now thoroughly naturalized and widely distributed in the Archipelago.

The Humming Bird and the Carabao

The Humming-bird and the Carabao.

Narrated by Eusebio Lopez, a Tagalog from the province of Cavite.

One hot April morning a carabao (water-buffalo) was resting under the shade of a quinine-tree which grew near the mouth of a large river, when a humming-bird alighted on one of the small branches above him.
“How do you do, Friend Carabao?” said the humming-bird.
“I’m very well, little Hum. Do you also feel the heat of this April morning?” replied the carabao.
“Indeed, I do, Friend Carabao! and I am so thirsty, that I have come down to drink.”
“I wonder how much you can drink!” said the carabao jestingly. “You are so small, that a drop ought to be more than enough to satisfy you.”
“Yes, Friend Carabao?” answered little Hum as if surprised. “I bet you that I can drink more than you can!”
“What, you drink more than I can, you little Hum!”
“Yes, let us try! You drink first, and we shall see.”
So old carabao, ignorant of the trick that was being played on him, walked to the bank of the river and began to drink. He drank and drank and drank; but it so happened that the tide was rising, and, no matter how much he swallowed, the water in the river kept getting higher and higher. At last he could drink no more, and the humming-bird began to tease him.
“Why, Friend Carabao, you have not drunk anything. It seems to me that you have added more water to the river instead.”
“You fool!” answered the carabao angrily, “can’t you see that my stomach is almost bursting?”
“Well, I don’t know. I only know that you have added more water than there was before. But it is now my turn to drink.”
But the humming-bird only pretended to drink. He knew that the tide would soon be going out, so he just put his bill in[394]the water, and waited until the tide did begin to ebb. The water of the river began to fall also. The carabao noticed the change, but he could not comprehend it. He was surprised, and agreed that he had been beaten. Little Hum flew away, leaving poor old Carabao stupefied and hardly able to move, because of the great quantity of water he had drunk.

Notes.

That this story was not imported from the Occident is pretty clearly established by the existence in North Borneo of a tale almost identical with it. The Borneo fable, which is told as a “just-so” story, and is entitled “The Kandowei [rice-bird] and the Kerbau [carabao],” may be found in Evans (pp. 423–424). It runs about as follows:—

The bird said to the buffalo, “If I were to drink the water of a stream, I could drink it all.”—“I also,” said the buffalo, “could finish it; for I am very big, while you are very small.”—“Very well,” said the bird, “tomorrow we will drink.” In the morning, when the water was coming down in flood, the bird told the buffalo to drink first. The buffalo drank and drank; but the water only came down the faster, and at length he was forced to stop. So the buffalo said to the bird, “You can take my place and try, for I cannot finish.” Now, the bird waited till the flood had gone down; and when it had done so, he put his beak into the water and pretended to drink. Then he waited till all the water had run away out of the stream, and said to the buffalo, “See, I have finished it!” And since the bird outwitted the buffalo in this manner, the buffalo has become his slave, and the bird rides on his back.

I know of no other Philippine versions, but I dare say that many exist between Luzon and Mindanao.

The Greedy Cow

The Greedy Crow.

Narrated by Agapito O. Gaa, from Taal, Batangas. He heard the story from an old Tagalog man who is now dead.

One day a crow found a piece of meat on the ground. He picked it up and flew to the top of a tree. While he was sitting there eating his meat, a kasaykasay (a small bird) passed by. She was carrying a dead rat, and was flying very fast. The crow called to her, and said, “Kasaykasay, where did you get that dead rat that you have?” But the small bird did not answer: she flew on her way. When the crow saw that she paid no attention to him, he was very angry; and he called out, “Kasaykasay, Kasaykasay, stop and give me a piece of that rat, or I will follow you and take the whole thing for myself!” Still the small bird paid no attention to him. At last, full of greed and rage, the crow determined to have the rat by any means. He left the meat he was eating, and flew after the small creature. Although she was only a little bird, the Kasaykasay could fly faster than the crow—so he could not catch her.
[392]While the crow was chasing the Kasaykasay, a hawk happened to pass by the tree where the crow had left his meat. The hawk saw the meat, and at once seized it in his claws and flew away.
Although the crow pursued the Kasaykasay a long time, he could not overtake her: so at last he gave up his attempt, and flew back to the tree where he had left his meat. But when he came to the spot, and found that the meat was gone, he was almost ready to die of disappointment and hunger. By and by the hawk which had taken the meat passed the tree again. He called to the crow, and said to him, “Mr. Crow, do you know that I am the one who took your meat? If not, I will tell you now, and I am very sorry for you.”
The crow did not answer the hawk, for he was so tired and weak that he could hardly breathe.
The moral of this story is this: Do not be greedy. Be contented with what you have, and do not wish for what you do not own.

Notes.

This fable appears to be distantly related to the European fable of “The Dog and his Shadow.” More closely connected, however, is an apologue incorporated in a Buddhistic birth-story, the “Culladhanuggaha-jātaka,” No. 374. In this Indian story,—

An unfaithful wife eloping with her lover arrives at the bank of a stream. There the lover persuades her to strip herself, so that he may carry her clothes across the stream, which he proceeds to do, but never returns. Indra, seeing her plight, changes himself into a jackal bearing a piece of meat, and goes down to the bank of the stream. In its waters fish are disporting; and the Indra-jackal, laying aside his meat, plunges in after one of them. A vulture hovering near seizes hold of the meat and bears it aloft; and the jackal, returning unsuccessful from his fishing, is taunted by the woman, who had observed all this, in the first gātha:—

“O jackal so brown! most stupid are you;

No skill have you got, not knowledge, nor wit;

Your fish you have lost, your meat is all gone,

And now you sit grieving all poor and forlorn.”

To which the Indra-jackal repeats the second gātha:—

“The faults of others are easy to see,

But hard indeed our own are to behold;

Thy husband thou hast lost, and lover eke,

And now, I ween, thou grievest o’er thy loss.”

The same story is found in the “Pancatantra” (V, viii; see Benfey, I : 468), whence it made its way into the “Tūtī-nāmeh.” It does not appear to be known in the Occident in this form (it is lacking in the “Kalilah and Dimnah”).
[393]Although the details of our story differ from those of the Indian fable of “The Jackal and the Faithless Wife,” the general outlines of the two are near enough to justify us in supposing a rather close connection between them. I know of no European analogues nearly so close, and am inclined to consider “The Greedy Crow” a native Tagalog tale. From the testimony of the narrator, it appears that the fable is not a recent importation.

A Tyrant

A Tyrant.

Narrated by Facundo Esquivel of Jaen, Nueva Ecija. This is a Tagalog story.

Once there lived a tyrannical king. One of his laws prohibited the people from talking loudly. Even when this law had been put in force, he still was not satisfied: so he ordered the law to be enforced among the animals.
One of his officers once heard a frog croak. The officer caught the frog and carried it before the king. The king began the trial by saying, “Don’t you know that there is a law prohibiting men and animals from making a noise?”
“Yes, your Majesty,” said the frog, “but I could not help [389]laughing to see the snail carrying his house with him wherever he goes.”
The king was satisfied with the frog’s answer, so he dismissed him and called the snail. “Why do you always carry your house with you?” asked the king.
“Because,” said the snail, “I am always afraid the firefly is going to burn it.” The king next ordered the firefly to appear before him. The king then said to the firefly, “Why do you carry fire with you always?”
“Because the mosquitoes will bite me if I do not carry this fire,” said the firefly. This answer seemed reasonable to the king, so he summoned the mosquito. When the mosquito was asked why he was always trying to bite some one, he said, “Why, sir, I cannot live without biting somebody.”
The king was tired of the long trial, so with the mosquito he determined to end it. After hearing the answer of the mosquito, he said, “From now on you must not bite anybody. You have no right to do so.” The mosquito tried to protest the sentence, but the king seized his mallet and determined to crush the mosquito with it. When the mosquito saw what the king was going to do, he alighted on the forehead of the king. The king became very angry at this insult, and hit the mosquito hard. He killed the mosquito, but he also put an end to his own tyranny.
MORAL: It is foolish to carry matters to extremes.

Why Mosquitoes Hum and Try to get into the Holes of our Ears

Why Mosquitoes Hum and Try to get into the Holes of our Ears.

Narrated by Fermin Torralba, a Visayan from Tagbilaran, Bohol. He heard the story from an old man of his province.

A long time ago, when the world was much quieter and younger than it is now, people told and believed many strange stories about wonderful things which none of us have ever seen. In those very early times, in the province of Bohol, there lived a creature called Mangla;1 he was king of the crabs.

One night, as he was very tired and sleepy, Mangla ordered his old sheriff, Cagang,2 leader of the small land-crabs, to call his followers, Bataktak,3 before him. Although the sheriff was old, yet he brought them all in in a very short time. Then Mangla said to the Bataktak, “You must all watch my house while I am sleeping; but do not make any noise that will waken me.” The Bataktak said, “We are always ready to obey you.” So Mangla went to sleep.

While he was snoring, it began to rain so hard that the guards could not help laughing. The king awoke very angry; but, as he was still very tired and sleepy, he did not immediately ask the Bataktak why they laughed. He waited till morning came. So, as soon as the sun shone, he called the Bataktak, and said to them, “Why did you laugh last night? Did I not tell you not to make any noise?”

The Bataktak answered softly, “We could not help laughing, because last night we saw our old friend Hu-man4carrying his house on his shoulder.” On account of this reasonable reply, the king pardoned the Bataktak. Then he called his sheriff, and told him to summon Hu-man. In a short time he came. The king at once said to him, “What did you do last night?”

“Sir,” replied Hu-man humbly, “I was carrying my house, because Aninipot5 was bringing fire, and I was afraid that my only dwelling would be burned.” This answer seemed reasonable to the king, so he pardoned Hu-man. Then he told his sheriff Cagang to summon Aninipot. When Aninipot appeared, the king, with eyes flashing with anger, said to the culprit, “Why were you carrying fire last night?”

[388]Aninipot was very much frightened, but he did not lose his wits. In a trembling voice he answered, “Sir, I was carrying fire, because Lamoc6 was always trying to bite me. To protect myself, I am going to carry fire all the time.” The king thought that Aninipot had a good reason, so he pardoned him also.

The king now realized that there was a great deal of trouble brewing in his kingdom, of which he would not have been aware if he had not been awakened by the Bataktak. So he sent his sheriff to get Lamoc. In a short time Cagang appeared with Lamoc. But Lamoc, before he left his own house, had told all his companions to follow him, for he expected trouble. Before Lamoc reached the palace, the king was already shouting with rage, so Lamoc approached the king and bit his face. Then Mangla cried out, “It is true, what I heard from Bataktak, Hu-man, and Aninipot!” The king at once ordered his sheriff to kill Lamoc; but, before Cagang could carry out the order, the companions of Lamoc rushed at him. He killed Lamoc, however, and then ran to his home, followed by Lamoc’s friends, who were bent on avenging the murder. As Cagang’s house was very deep under the ground, Lamoc’s friends could not get in, so they remained and hummed around the door.

Even to-day we can see that at the doors of the houses of Cagang and his followers there are many friends of Lamoc humming and trying to go inside. It is said that the Lamoc mistake the holes of our ears for the house of Cagang, and that that is the reason mosquitoes hum about our ears now.

The Pugu's Case

The Pugu’s Case.

Narrated by Bienvenido Tan of Manila, who got the story from Pampanga.

“Why, horse,” said the pugu (a small bird), “did you touch my eggs, so that now they are broken?”
“Because,” said the horse, “the cock crowed, and I was startled.”
“Why, cock,” said the pugu, “did you crow, so that the horse was startled and broke my eggs?”
“Because,” said the cock, “I saw the turtle carrying his house; that made me crow.”
“Why, turtle,” said the pugu, “did you carry your house with you, so that the cock crowed, and the horse was startled and broke my eggs?”
“Because,” said the turtle, “the firefly was carrying fire, and I was afraid that he would burn my house.”
“Why, firefly,” said the pugu, “did you bring fire, so that the turtle was frightened and carried his house, and the cock crowed when he saw him, and the horse was startled and broke my eggs?”
“Because,” said the firefly, “the mosquito will sting me if I have no light.”
“Why, mosquito,” said the pugu, “did you try to sting the firefly, so that he had to carry fire, so that the turtle was frightened and carried his house, so that the cock laughed at the turtle, so that the horse was startled and broke my eggs?”
“Because,” said the mosquito, “Juan put up his mosquito-net, and there was nobody for me to sting except the firefly (alipatpat.)”
“Why, Juan,” said the pugu, “did you put up your mosquito-net? The mosquito could not sting you, and tried to harm the firefly; the firefly brought fire; the turtle was frightened, and carried his house with him; the cock crowed when he saw the turtle; the horse was startled when he heard the cock, and broke my eggs.”
“Because,” said Juan, “I did not care to lose any blood.”
[387]

The Trial among the Animals

The Trial among the Animals.

Narrated by Domingo Pineda of Pampanga.

In ancient times Sinukuan, the judge of the animals, lived in one of the caves of Mount Arayat. He had formerly lived in a neighboring town; but, since he was so brave and strong, the people began to envy him, then to hate him. At last they made so many plots against his life, that he gave up all his property and friends in the town, and went to live in Mount Arayat, where he devoted all his time to gaining the friendship of the animals there.
Now, it was not hard for Sinukuan to win the love of the animals, for he had the power of changing himself into whatever form he pleased; and he always took the form of those animals who came to him. It was not long before all the animals realized the power, wisdom, and justice of their good companion, so they made him their judge.
One day a bird came to Sinukuan’s court, and asked Sinukuan to punish the frog for being so noisy during the night, while it was trying to sleep. Sinukuan summoned the troublesome frog, and asked him the reason for his misbehavior. The frog answered respectfully, “Sir, I was only crying for help, because the turtle was carrying his house on his back, and I feared that I might be buried under it.”
“That is good enough reason,” said Sinukuan; “you are free.”
The turtle was the next to be summoned to Sinukuan’s court. On his arrival, he humbly replied to the question of the judge, “Honorable Judge, I carried my house with me, because the firefly was playing with fire, and I was afraid he might set fire to my home. Is it not right to protect one’s house from fire?”
“A very good reason; you are free,” said Sinukuan.
In the same way the firefly was brought to court the next day, and when the judge asked him why he was playing with fire, he said in a soft voice, “It was because I have no other means with which to protect myself from the sharp-pointed dagger of the mosquito.” This seemed a reasonable answer, so the firefly was liberated too.
Finally the mosquito was tried; and, since he did not have any good reason to give for carrying his dagger, Sinukuan sentenced him to three days’ imprisonment. The mosquito was obliged to submit; and it was during this confinement of the mosquito that he lost his voice. Ever since, the male [386]mosquito has had no voice; and he has been afraid to carry his dagger, for fear of greater punishment.

The Iguana and the Turtle

The Iguana and the Turtle.

Narrated by Sixto Guico of Binalonan, Pangasinan, who says that the story is fairly common among the Pangasinanes.

Once upon a time there lived two good friends,—an iguana and a turtle. They always went fishing together. One day the turtle invited the iguana to go catch fish in a certain pond that he knew of. After they had been there about two hours, the old man who owned the pond came along. The iguana escaped, but the turtle was caught. The old man took the turtle home, tied a string around its neck, and fastened it under the house.
Early in the morning the iguana went to look for his friend the turtle. The iguana wandered everywhere looking for him, and finally he found him under the old man’s house, tied to a post.
“What are you doing here, my friend?” said the iguana.
“That old man wants me to marry his daughter, but I do not want to marry her,” said the turtle.
Now, the iguana very much wanted a wife, and he was delighted at this chance. So he asked the turtle to be allowed to take his place. The turtle consented. So the iguana released the turtle, and was tied up in his place. Then the turtle made off as fast as he could.
When the old man woke up, he heard some one saying over and over again, “I want to marry your daughter.” He became angry, and went down under the house to see who was talking. There he found the iguana saying, “I want to marry your daughter.” The old man picked up a big stick to beat its head, but the iguana cut the string and ran away.
On his way he came across the turtle again, who was listening to the sound produced by the rubbing of two bamboos when the wind blew. “What! are you here again?” said the iguana.
[384]“Be quiet!” said the turtle. “I am listening to the pipe of my grandfather up there. Don’t you hear it?”
The iguana wanted to see the turtle’s grandfather, so he climbed up the tree, and put his mouth between the two bamboos that were rubbing together. His mouth was badly pinched, and he fell down to the ground. The turtle meanwhile had disappeared.
MORAL: This teaches that the one who believes foolishly will be injured.

Notes.

This story is doubtless native. A Tinguian tale related to ours is given by Cole (No. 78), whose abstract runs thus:—

A turtle and lizard go to stem ginger. The lizard talks so loudly that he attracts the attention of the owner. The turtle hides; but the lizard runs, and is pursued by the man. The turtle enters the house, and hides under a cocoanut-shell. When the man sits on the shell, the turtle calls. He cannot discover source of noise, and thinks it comes from his testicles. He strikes these with a stone, and dies. The turtle and the lizard see a bees’ nest. The lizard hastens to get it, and is stung. They see a bird-snare, and turtle claims it as the necklace of his father. Lizard runs to get it, but is caught and killed.

Some of the incidents found in the Tinguian story we have met with in No. 55; e.g., episodes K, J, L, and “king’s bell.” Indeed, there appears to be a close connection between the “Monkey and Turtle” group and this story. A Borneo tale of the mouse-deer (plandok), small turtle (kikura), long-tailed monkey (kra), and bear contains the “king’s necklace” incident, and many other situations worthy of notice. A brief summary of the droll, which may be found in Roth, 1 : 342–346, is here given:—

The Kikura deceives the Plandok with the necklace sell (snare), and the Plandok is caught. When the hunter comes up, the little animal feigns death, and is thrown away. Immediately it jumps up, and is off to revenge itself on the turtle. It entices the turtle into a covered pit by pretending to give it a good place to sleep. Man examining pitfall discovers turtle, and fastens it with a forked stick. Monkey comes along, exchanges places with the turtle, but escapes with his life by feigning dead, as did the Plandok. Monkey, turtle, and Plandok go fishing. Monkey steals ride across stream on back of good-natured fish, which he later treacherously kills. The three friends prepare the fish, and Bruin comes along. Fearing the size of the bear’s appetite, they send him to wash the pan; and when he returns, fish, monkey, turtle, and mouse-deer have disappeared.

The escape of snared animals and birds by shamming dead, and then making off when the bunter or fowler throws them aside as worthless, is commonly met with in Buddhistic fables.[385]