Anting-Anting Stories, and Other Strange Tales of the Filipinos

  TOLD AT THE CLUB

  "Speaking of 'anting-anting,'" said a man at the club House on thebank of the Pasig river, in Manila, one evening, "I have had anexperience in that line myself which was rather striking."

  An American officer at the club that evening had just been tellingus about a native prisoner captured by his command sometime beforein one of the smaller islands, who, when searched, had been found tobe wearing next his skin a sort of undershirt on which was roughlypainted a crude map of certain of the islands of the archipelago.

  This shirt, it seemed, the officer went on to explain, the man regardedas a powerful "anting-anting," which would be able to protect himfrom injury in any of the islands represented on it. That he had beentaken alive, instead of having been killed in the fight in which hewas captured, the man firmly believed to be due to the fact that hewas wearing the shirt at the time. A native servant in the employ ofone of the officers of the company had explained later that such an"anting-anting" as this was highly prized, and that it increased invalue with its age. Only certain "wise men" had the right to add anew island to the number of those painted on the garment, and beforethis could be done the wearer of the shirt must have performed somegreat deed of valour in that particular island. The magic garment wasworn only in time of war, or when danger was known to threaten, andwas bequeathed from father to son, or, sometimes, changed ownershipin a less peaceful way.

  "What was the experience which you have referred to?" I finally askedthe man who had spoken, when he did not seem inclined to go on ofhis own accord.

  The man hesitated a moment before he replied to my question, andsomething in his manner then, or perhaps when he did speak, made mefeel as if he was sorry that he had spoken at all.

  "It is a story I do not like to tell," he said, and then added hastilya little later, as if in explanation, "I mean I do not like to tellit because I cannot help feeling, when I do tell it, that people donot believe me to be telling the truth.

  "Some years ago," he continued, "I went down to the island of Mindoroto hunt 'timarau,' one of the few large wild animals of the islands--aqueer beast, half way between a wild hog and a buffalo.

  "I hired as a guide and tracker, a wiry old Mangyan native who seemedto have an instinct for finding a 'timarau' trail and following itwhere my less skillful eyes could see nothing but undisturbed forest,and who also seemed to have absolutely no fear, a thing which was evenmore remarkable than his skill, since the natives as a general thingare notably timid about getting in the way of an angry 'timarau.' Asa matter of fact I did not blame them so very much for this, after Ihad had one experience myself in trying to dodge the wild charge of oneof these animals infuriated by a bullet which I had sent into his body.

  "Perico, though,--that was the old man's name,--never seemed to havethe least fear.

  "I was surprised, then, one morning when the weather and forestwere both in prime condition for a Hunt, to have my guide flatlyrefuse to leave our camp. Nothing which I could say or do had theleast influence upon him. I reasoned, and threatened, and coaxed,and swore, but all to no effect.

  "When I asked him why he would not go,--what was the matter,--was heill? he did not seem to be inclined to answer at first, except to saythat he was not ill; but finally, later in the day, he explained tome that he had had a 'warning' that it would not be safe for him togo hunting that day; that his life would be in danger if he did go.

  "Perico had been about the islands much more than most of the menof his tribe. He had even been to Manila once or twice, and so notonly knew much more about the world than most Mangyans did, buthad also picked up enough of the Spanish language so that he couldspeak it fairly well. In this way he was able to tell me, finally,how the 'warning' had come to him, and why he put so much confidencein it. He also told me this was why he had been so brave about thehunting before. He knew that he was not in any danger so long as hewas not forewarned. When he had been warned he avoided the danger bystaying quietly in camp, or in some place of safety.

  "Even after he had told me as much as this, Perico would not explainto me just how the 'warning' had come, until, at last, he said that'the stone' had told him.

  "This stone, he said, was a wonderful 'anting-anting' which hadbeen in his family for many years. His father had given it to him,and his grandfather had given it to his father.

  "Once, many, many years before, there had been an ancestor of hiswho had been famous through all the tribe for his goodness andwisdom. This man, when very old, had one day taken shelter undera tree from a furious storm. While he was there fire from the skyhad come down upon the tree, and when the storm was over the man wasfound dead. Grasped tightly in one of the dead man's hands was founda small flat stone, smooth cut and polished, which no one of hisfamily had ever seen him have before. Naturally the stone was lookedupon as a precious 'anting-anting,' sent down from the sky, and wasreligiously watched until its mysterious properties were understood,and it was learned that it had the power to forewarn its owner againstimpending evil. When danger threatened its owner, Perico said, thestone glowed at night with a strange light which he believed was dueto its celestial origin. At all other times it was a plain dull stone.

  "The night before, for the first time in months, the stone had flashedforth its strange light; and as a result its owner would do nothingwhich would place him in any danger which he could avoid.

  "I thought of all the strange stories I had read and heard of meteorsfalling from the sky, and of phosphoric rocks, and of little knownchemical elements which were mysteriously sensitive to certainatmospheric conditions, and wondered if Perico's stone could be anyof these. All my requests to be allowed to see the wonderful stone,however, proved fruitless, Perico was obdurate. There was a traditionthat it must not be looked at by daylight, he said, and that the eyesof no one but its owner should gaze upon it.

  "And so, for eight beautiful days of magnificent hunting weather,that aggravating heathen stone kept us idle there in the midst of theMindoro forest. I could not go alone, and Perico simply would not goso long as the stone glowed at night, as, he informed me each morning,it had done. It was in vain that I fretted, and offered him twice,and four times, and, finally--with a desire to see how much in earnestthe man really was--ten times his regular wages if he would go with mefor just one hunt. He simply would not stir out of the camp, until,on the morning of the ninth day, he met me with a cheerful face,and said, 'Senor, we will hunt today. The stone is black once more.'

  "And hunt we did,--that day, and many more--for the stone remainedaccommodatingly dark after that--and we had good luck, too.

  "When I came back to Manila I brought Perico with me. He had begunto have serious trouble with one of his eyes, which threatened torender him unable to follow the work of hunting of which he was sofond. I tried to make him believe that this was the danger of whichhe claimed he had been warned by the stone, but he would not agree tothis, saying that his 'anting-anting' always foretold only a violentdeath, or some serious bodily injury. In Manila I had him see that JoseRizal who afterwards became so prominent in the political troubles ofthe islands, and who had such a tragic later history. Senor Rizal,who had studied in Europe, was a skillful oculist, and an operationwhich he performed on Perico's eye was entirely successful. I keptthe old man with me until he was fully recovered, and then sent himback to his native island. Before he went, he thanked me over andover again for what I had done, and kept telling me that some timehe would pay me for it all.

  "I laughed at him, at first, not thinking what he meant, until, justbefore he was to go to the boat, he clasped my hand in both his,and said, 'Senor, I have no children to leave the "anting anting"of my family to. When I die, it shall be yours.'

  "I would have laughed again, then, had it not been that the poor oldfellow was so much in earnest that it would have been cruel. As itwas, I thanked him, and told him I hoped he would live many years tobe the guardian of the stone, and to be guarded by it himself.

  "After Perico had gone
, I forgot all about him. Imagine my surprise,then, when a little more than a year afterward, I received a smallpacket from a man whom I knew in Calupan, the seaport of Mindoro,and a letter, telling me that my old guide was dead, and that duringthe illness which had preceded his death he had arranged to have thepacket which came with the letter sent to me.

  "The package and letter reached me one morning. Of course I knew whatPerico had sent me, and, foolish as it may seem, a bit of tendernessfor the old man's genuine faith in his talisman made me, mindful ofhis admonition that the stone must not be exposed to the light of day,restrain my curiosity to open the package until I was in my roomsthat night. What I found, when at last I held the mysterious charmin my hands, was a smooth, dark, flint-like disc, about an inch anda half in diameter, and perhaps half an inch in thickness.

  "Whatever the stone might have done for its former owners, or mightdo for me at some other time, it certainly had no errand to performthat night. It was just a plain, dark stone, and no matter how longI looked at it, or in what position, it did not change its appearance.

  "Finally, half provoked with myself at my thoughts, I put the stoneinto a little cabinet in which were other curious souvenirs of mytravels in the islands, and forgot it.

  "Two years after that it became necessary for me to go to Europe. Ihad taken passage on one of the regular steamers from Manila to HongKong, and was to reship from there. As I expected to return in a fewmonths, I did not give up my lodgings, but before I started I packedaway much of my stuff for safe keeping. As I was busy at the officeduring the day, I did the most of this packing in the evenings. Inthe course of this work I came to the little cabinet of which I havespoken, and threw it open in order to stuff it with cotton, so thatthe contents would not rattle about when moved."

  The man who was telling the story stopped at this point so long thatwe who sat there in the smoking room of the Club listening to himwere afraid he was not going to continue. At last he said:--

  "This is the part of the story which I do not like to tell.

  "On the black velvet lining of the cabinet, surrounded by the jumbleof curios among which it had been tossed, lay old Perico's stone,--notthe plain, dark stone which I had put there, but a faintly glowingcircle of lustrous light.

  "I shut the lid of the cabinet down, locked the box, and put the key inmy pocket. But I did no more packing that night. I came down here tothe Club, and stayed as long as I could get anybody to stay with me,and talked of everything under the sun except the one thing which Iwas all the time thinking about.

  "The next day I told myself I was a fool, and crazy into the bargain,and that my eyes had deceived me. And then, in spite of all this,when I went home at night I could hardly wait for dusk to come thatI might open the cabinet.

  "The stone lay on the velvet, just as the night before, as if it werea thing on fire!

  "I said to myself that I would have some common sense, and wouldexercise my will power; and went on with my packing with furiousenergy. But I did not put the cabinet where I could not get at it.

  "The boat for Hong Kong on which I had taken passage was to sail thenext night. I finished my work, said good bye to my acquaintances,and went on board. Fifteen minutes before the steamer sailed I had myluggage tumbled from her deck back on to the wharf, and came ashore,swearing at myself for a fool, and knowing that I would be welllaughed at and quizzed for my fickleness by every one who knew me."

  The man stopped again. After a little, one of the men who had beenlistening to him said, in a voice which sounded strangely softened:--

  "I remember. That was the ----," calling the name of a steamerwhich brought to us all the recollection of one of the most awfulsea tragedies of those terrible tropic waters, where sometimes seaand wind seem to be in league to buffet and destroy.

  "Yes," said the man who had told the story. "No person who sailed onboard of her that night was ever seen again; and only bits of wreckageon one of the northern reefs gave any hint of her fate."