October 14, 1956

Dear Son,
…

I notice in the F. P. (Philippine Free Press) that there is a lot of graft around Manila; does the same condition apply around Davao?

It seems that all the world has gone crooked. We have it in this country almost as bad as there with you. The older Philipino was trained in it by the Spaniards and many have improved on their methods.

When I was there the aim of most of the young men was to get an education so they could live without work, not for the betterment of their country or countrymen.

Is there still the feeling of dislike between the Tagalogs and the Visayans like when I was there? The Tagalogs thought they were the superior people of the islands although there were many more Visayans than Tagalogs.

I found the Visayan much more reliable than the man from Manila. If they liked you they were very loyal and would stay with you but I could trust the Tagalog farther than I could see him. I hope this is all changed and that they are united as one people by this time. It is a wonderful country and all it needs is good government and hard work to make it paradise on earth.

Best wishes, love to all.

Your father,

James Welborn

(This letter was addressed to his son, also named James, who was left behind in Magnaga, Pantukan (now in Compostela Valley) when Welborn returned to the States. Original letter in the possession of Rosendo Welborn, a grandson. Permission to use it was granted to Macario D. Tiu for his research on Davao history.)

“Toyang!” he called, and his dog responded, sniffing the ground as it led the way. The young Manobo soon realized they were heading towards the gulch. The spring! His heart began to beat rapidly. Amya! He began to run, his dog trailing him. At the ravine floor his fears were confirmed. A spear was stuck right beside the little pool that collected the water from the spring that flowed beside the root of a tree. Footprints! Signs of struggle! He pulled the lance and inspected it. Mandaya warriors! They had taken Amya. No! He looked around in the disturbed brush and found a bamboo tube for fetching water. No! He climbed up the ravine quickly and ran.

“Amya! Amya!” he shouted as he neared the kaingin clearing. But he was greeted with silence. Two chickens scampered as he rushed to the house that topped the lopped-off primary branches of a huge tree. He put down what he was carrying. “Amya! Amya!” he called out. But the tree house was silent. He pulled the pole ladder, placed it against the open door, and climbed up to the house. Inside there was no sign of any disturbance. He looked at the bamboo containers. There should have been four, but he saw only three, and his heart sank. They had taken her. They had stolen his wife!

The negotiation was a matter for the elders, and the young Manobo sat patiently in the shade of the ilang-ilang tree, his dog beside him. He was not even introduced to the mediator, Datu Tomaros, who was received with great ceremony when he slipped into the river with three big boats. From where he sat he could see the goings-on inside the meeting hall. Datu Tomaros was resplendent in his yellow silk clothes. He sat on a stool at the head of two groups of people who were facing each other. Eight elderly representatives of Amya’s relatives and his oldest brother, Sumungsung, were on one side. The three women were in full regalia. The men, led by Amya’s father and his father-in-law, Datu Dumblag, wore abaca dagmay dominated by the color red.

The other side was composed of five representatives from Bitaogan. They were all warriors who wore red shirts. Their leader was an old man who was not only in red shirt, but also in red dagmay breeches. A full bagani! But the young Manobo was not impressed. If it were up to him he would have gone ahead with the attack on Bitaogan and rescue Amya. Amya’s clan had gathered a hundred warriors, and his brothers had brought an initial batch of sixty warriors from across Davao Gulf in Malita. Additional warriors from Tubalan and Lawa were expected to land any day soon.

But Datu Tomaros, the datu of Sumlug, had sent word he was going to mediate. A Kalagan who worshipped Allah, Datu Tomaros was the most powerful chief on the east coast of Davao Gulf. All Kalagan chiefs from Iyo River, going south to Pantukan and Cuabo Bay, then curving towards Mati and Manay on the Pacific Coast considered him their suzerain. His rule extended to the Mandayas in the interior villages who paid him regular tributes.

Even if Datu Tomaros did not control the villages further south on Cape San Agustin, the chiefs of these villages did not want to mess up with him. Datu Dumblag readily agreed to the mediation. So did Datu Gaponggo, head of Bitaogan. He was the most feared bagani on Cape San Agustin, but even he did not want to antagonize Datu Tomaros and agreed to send negotiators.

The young Manobo looked at the position of the sun and noted it was nearing high noon. This was the worst kind of waiting, the young Manobo thought. He could stay motionless for hours waiting for prey, but this waiting was making him restless. The negotiation was taking too long. Inside the hall, Amya’s aunt was talking, her hands gesturing vigorously. Like the other women, she wore colorful dagmay clothes, accented by a round silver patina breastplate. Her ears were decorated with strung beads, and her arms shone with shell bracelets. He knew Amya’s relatives were to impress upon Bitaogan how precious Amya was. And indeed, she was. They had demanded expensive items from his family as her bride price which was twice the usual for a datu’s daughter. Bitaogan would soon learn a costly lesson! He was dismayed they did not bring Amya along and just pay the fine! What game were they playing? Anyway, he trusted his brother. His brother would bring Amya back to him.

He had been totally helpless during the first few days after Amya’s kidnapping. He was alone among strangers, even if they were his in-laws. He had stayed less than two months in Amya’s village. He had relatives in the poblacion of Sigaboy two kilometers away, but he hardly knew them. All his life he had stayed in Malita, coming to Sigaboy for the first time to marry Amya. His marriage was all arranged by his brother Sumungsung. It was a way of extending one’s land and waters, his brother had explained. He was marrying into a big Mandaya family, and the union would increase the prestige and power of their clan which had branches on both sides of Davao Gulf.

The negotiation dragged on. The young Manobo was feeling hungry and he suppressed it with betel nut chew. The people inside the hall did not take any food either. Now it was Datu Dumblag talking. He observed that the Bitaogan people were agitated, and began to argue among themselves. Datu Tomaros talked to them, and they went out of the hall. At some distance from the hall, the Bitaogan warriors continued to argue among themselves.

Then he heard the unmistakable whistle call of his brother Sumungsung. His brother was motioning for him to go to the hall. He sprung to his feet, his dog following him.

“Datu, this is my brother, Mangulayon,” said Sumungsung to Datu Tomaros.

“Oh, the husband,“ Datu Tomaros said, taking a quick appraising look at the young Manobo. “He’s very young,” he added, then turned to Sumungsung, dismissing Mangulayon. But the datu took another look at the young Manobo, as if struck by something.

“You’re a hunter?” the Datu said.

“Yes, Datu.”

“He’s a bagani,” interjected Sumungsung. “One kill.”

“Oh, is that so?” said Datu Tomaros, and a smile crossed his lips.

Mangulayon noted that the datu carried a pistol discreetly tucked in his waist, his silken shirt folded to hide it. The datu exuded commanding power in the hall, with his brother and his in-laws clearly deferring to him.

“This boy’s going to be a great leader,” said Datu Tomaros to Sumungsung. “Someday he will be famous. Mark my word. He’s going to be famous.”

Mangulayon couldn’t stand the datu’s amused probing eyes, and he bowed his head, shuffling his bare feet in embarrassment.

“You’re very lucky,” said the datu. “Your wife’s very expensive. She’s more expensive than any of my own daughters.” And the datu let out a laugh, showing betel chew-stained teeth. “Datu Dumblag, let’s honor a future great leader. When they come back, raise your penalty demand for trespassing by adding another carabao. And for disturbing the peace, I’ll make them pay two cows.”

There was an audible gasp in the hall. In all of Cape San Agustin there were no cows except in the ranch of the Spanish priests in Sigaboy.

“We have to impose stiff penalties to ensure peace among us,” Datu Tomaros said, his voice becoming serious. “We cannot afford to war on one another while the white men are lording it over Davao. They are our common enemy, the Katsila! Hijos de gran putas! We have to kick them out!”

So, this was the datu’s motive in the mediation, Mangulayon thought. His brother and his in-laws appeared non-committal. This was dangerous talk. Kick out the Spaniards? It was impossible. About a year ago the inhabitants of Nazareth rebelled, torching the village and fleeing to the mountains. But the Spaniards sent troops from Davao and pursued the rebels in the mountains, killing five of their clansmen.

“The time has never been more favorable than now,” the datu said. “The Tagalogs in Luzon are already in rebellion, and a week ago the tercios in Baganga have risen up against their Spanish officers. The days of the Katsila are numbered. Mark my word! There’s nothing to fear. Their gunboat won’t bother us here; it’s busy. The Tausugs and Magindanaws are also preparing to attack the Katsila. We can easily kick them out of Sigaboy and Mati. We’ll exterminate the Katsila!”

His brother put his arm across his shoulders and led him out of the hall, his dog following him. Back in the shade of the ilang-ilang tree Mangulayon observed that Datu Tomaros went to the Bitaogan men who were still arguing among themselves. The datu talked to them, and in a very short while, the men quieted down. The datu brought the Bitaogan men to the hall. He did much of the talking, and presently, the two sides were shaking hands. The datu was truly powerful. The negotiation was finally over! And Mangulayon could not contain his excitement. Now, they were preparing the ritual of the peace pact. They put a piece of fresh rattan on a low table, and an egg beside it. The balyan priestess who had been summoned for the purpose made intonations, and with one quick stroke of a bolo, cut the rattan in two, the egg spilling its contents on the table. He was now going to get Amya back!

Inside the convento, Mangulayon waited patiently for the Spanish priest to come down from his afternoon nap. He had come to the convento several times, but the priests were always out on their frequent mission trips. When he learned that a priest was around, he sat it out inside the convento. The old convento helper knew him, and allowed him to stay. He shouldn’t be going to the priest, but he was desperate for help. He hadn’t met the priest, but knew his name, Padre Llopart. When the priest finally came down, he rushed to kneel and kiss the priest’s hand. The priest wore a black cassock; he had no hat, showing a balding head. Mangulayon quickly noted his cat eyes were red.

“I am Ramon, Padre,” Mangulayon said in Manobo, then he switched to pidgin Spanish, “Por pabor, ayuda mi, Padre.”

“I have not seen you before, my son,” the priest said in Manobo. “Where are you from?”

Mangulayon smelled coconut wine from the priest’s breath. “Malita, Padre. I was baptized by Padre Urios. I worked in the convento for two years in Malita.”

“Oh, from across the Gulf. Que es tu problema?”

“It’s about my wife, Padre. Maria Teresa. Daughter of Datu Dumblag.”

“Oh, yes. Maria Teresa. Very smart girl. She asked two chickens from me. Said she was going to raise chickens. Very industrious. But she did not tell me she was going to get married. When were you married? Who married you?”

When Mangulayon hesitated in his answer, the priest got very angry. He took a rattan stick hanging on the wall and struck it sharply across Mangulayon’s back twice. Mangulayon felt the sharp pain and winced, but he did not cry out.

“Por Diyos! Por santo! You are already Christians, but you haven’t changed a bit. Getting married in your old pagan ways! Wait till Padre Urios hears about it!”

Mangulayon just bowed his head as the priest continued to scold him, warning him of hell for committing a grievous sin.

“You must get married in church immediately. Do you understand?” the priest said.

“Yes, Padre. But Amya was kidnapped by Datu Gaponggo last month.”

“Gaponggo? Caramba! I will never understand you people. You continue to kidnap and kill each other. And this is the year 1898! That devil of a bagani has to be stopped! Kidnap a Christian girl right here in Sigaboy! Let us see. I will ask for troops from Davao. They should act on this immediately! Ah, if only the Tagalogs are not making any trouble! How dare to revolt against Spain! Ingrates! They’re nothing but ingrates! After Spain has civilized them! They should come here and see how we brought them up from being savages to become human beings! Well, the rebellion will be crushed. And that renegade Prudencio Garcia in Baganga is also going to be crushed.”

Then the priest suddenly began to talk about Datu Tomaros.

“That wily Moro! He’s been secretly going around the villages in Cape San Agustin. He’s up to something. I know it. These Moros are nothing but trouble. If you know anything, you come and tell me. Si, Ramon?”

“Si, Padre.”

“When we get Maria Teresa back the first thing you do is get married in church, do you understand?”

“Si, Padre.”

The night was cold, and Mangulayon curled himself up, pulling a cotton cloth to wrap himself with against the cold. It was deep in the night, but he could not sleep. It had been like this since Amya was gone. He missed her. When he was told that Amya had decided to be the wife of Datu Gaponggo and that Bitaogan had tripled her bride wealth and paid various fines besides, he had protested vigorously to his brother Sumungsung. They were liars! He demanded to see Amya. He wanted to hear from Amya herself telling him she had chosen Datu Gapongo over him! But his brother had merely laughed off his protest.

“Crazy over a woman? Well, it can happen,” his brother had said. “You’ll soon forget her. You can have six Amyas anytime you want.”

Yes, he could afford many wives now. To please him, his in-laws had turned over all they had demanded from Bitaogan. Thus he gained six horses, four carabaos, eight goats, twenty chickens, ten big gongs, six small gongs, ten sacks of unhusked rice, two axes, eight spears, three big patina breastplates, six antique Chinese ceramic plates and a big jar, not to mention two cows that were delivered belatedly and then promptly slaughtered and feasted on by the villagers so there would be no evidence in case the priests made an investigation. He was incredibly rich. All the baganis and young men were envious of him, gawking at him when he visited the village.

But inside he hurt, for he longed for Amya. He had raged when told that the agreement was final, having been sealed with a peace pact. He was disappointed with his brother, but he knew his brother had tried his best, making Bitaogan pay very dearly. Sumungsung had always been good to him, even crediting him with one kill so he could earn a red headscarf and be called a bagani. His brother needed that one kill to make a total of twenty kills and become a full bagani, but he chose to delay getting the title by giving him a share of the kills. And all he did was to wound a Blaan who was attacking Sumungsung. This happened more than a year ago. He and his three brothers went hunting when they were attacked by six Blaan warriors. Sumungsung insisted that it was his kill for saving him. And so he was no longer just a hunter, but also a bagani, although in truth he had never killed a man.

The only person who could really help him was the priest, but when he went back to see Padre Llopart to follow up developments, he found the priest highly agitated. The priest railed against the Tagalogs, Moros, infieles, remontados, and the renegade Prudencio Garcia. He also railed against the cattle rustlers who ran away with five of their cows. He assured Mangulayon though that the rebellion would soon be crushed. He vowed he would deal with the thieves and Datu Gaponggo as soon as the troubles were over. But he couldn’t do anything yet. Rumors were rife that the Moros and Mandayas were joining forces to attack Sigaboy and Mati. And Davao troops were tied down for the defense of the capital itself.

How he missed Amya. In the cold night he longed for her soft, warm body redolent with ilang-ilang flowers that she always wore in a string belt around her waist. She always asked him to bring her ilang-ilang flowers. He did what she always wanted him to do, even help in the kaingin. And he was a hunter, not a farmer! He didn’t think there was any point in planting. The pigs or monkeys would only eat what they’d plant. Besides, there was plenty to gather from the forest anyway. But she wore a scowling face and would not talk to him. So he helped in building the fences and emplacing the bamboo clappers to scare away the pests. He also constructed spear traps and pit traps around the area. As far as he knew he was good to her. There was always pork, or venison, or chicken. When she brought two chickens from the priest, he caught a wild rooster to please her…

He felt his anger rise inside him. Datu Gaponggo! He simply didn’t understand it. Datu Gaponggo already had four wives. Why did he have to steal his wife? Amya, he called out silently. Amya! He took a handful of ilang-ilang flowers by his side and smelled them. He had smelled all the clothings that she had left, but it was the ilang-ilang that best reminded him of her. He was going to get her! But how? And what if she really had chosen to stay in Bitaogan? No, it couldn’t be true! They had kept her a prisoner! He was sure of that. He must see her! He must! He crushed the ilang-ilang flowers in his hand and rubbed them in his face, his arms, his legs, his entire body. He was going to get her!

The moment he crossed the shallow Cambaleon River he knew that he was being watched, and followed. His dog, Toyang, was behaving nervously, now and then snarling. He had made sure that those who were watching him would know he was just an ordinary hunter with no hostile intention. He had a spear, but no shield. He was not surprised when a warrior with a shield suddenly blocked his path, a spear aimed at him.

“Mangangayam ak. Dyak mamaway,” Mangulayon shouted. “I’m a hunter. I don’t want to fight!” he repeated, as he dropped his spear to the ground.

From behind and from his sides several warriors rushed toward him, with two others going straight for the dog. A warrior pushed him so hard it knocked him to the ground, whereupon they quickly bound his hands behind his back with rattan strips. Meanwhile, the dog snarled, bared its fangs, and snapped at the warriors. A spear hit its neck, making it howl in pain. Another warrior hacked it. The dog made yelping sounds, and then was silent.

It was a small price to pay, Mangulayon thought as he was being led by the triumphant warriors of Bitaogan. He was sorry for Toyang, whose carcass was strung on a pole and carried by two warriors. He could train another hunting dog. The most important thing was that he would finally see Amya! His hands hurt from the tight rattan strips that cut into his flesh, but he felt excitement inside him. He was going to see Amya! They walked for several hours in the thick forest and crossed two mountain ridges before reaching Bitaogan. It was a large village beside a wide river, with the houses built on wooden posts, and raised about fifteen feet above the ground.

The gongs sounded their arrival, and people poured out of their houses to see the warriors and their captive. The children ogled at Mangulayon who stood with as much dignity as he could muster. His eyes roved quickly, trying to spot Amya. She was not there. Then the crowd parted, and he saw three tall men approaching. He thought he recognized one of them, one of the young warriors in the negotiation.

“Who are you? What are you doing in our territory?” one of the warriors asked.

The warrior carried a long kampilan sword. What immediately struck Mangulayon about the warrior were his cat eyes. He was obviously of mixed blood. His long hair was tinged brown and his arms were hairy. He had a slim, muscular body, and stood a head taller than Mangulayon. He surmised the warrior was in his late thirties, much older than his brother Sumungsung. The warrior’s countenance exuded kindness. But the eyes. They were cold, determined. Then it dawned on him. Datu Gaponggo! This was the dreaded Datu Gaponggo! Hate flared in Mangulayon’s heart. But what could he do? Datu Gaponggo’s eyes bore at him savagely, overpowering him.

“I, I am Mangulayon. I’m a hunter,” he stammered.

Suddenly the young warrior with Datu Gaponggo rushed at him and aimed a blow in his face. As Mangulayon staggered from the force of the blow, the warrior followed up with a kick that sent him sprawling to the ground. The warrior stepped on his head, grinding his face to the ground.

“I know him! He’s here to take revenge. We have to kill him.”

With his hands bound behind his back and his head pinned to the ground, Mangulayon could not see what was happening, but he felt the point of a spear at the base of his neck. When he tried to move to speak, the spear pierced his flesh and he grimaced in pain. Then suddenly he felt a sharp kick to his side, making him roll over, his face splashing on a mud puddle. A familiar voice rang in his ears: “Kill him! Kill him!” It was Amya’s voice. He turned and saw his wife.

“Amya,” he said.

But Amya kicked him again. “Kill him! You must kill him. Or he will kill you. He’s here to get me. Do you understand, Gaponggo? Kill him!”

Mangulayon couldn’t believe his ears. “Amya?” his eyes looked at her pleadingly.

The young warrior raised his spear, but Datu Gaponggo held his hand.

“You have violated the pact,” Datu Gaponggo said to Mangulayon who was trying to stand up. “Everything had been settled. We owe you nothing.”

“I did not violate the pact. I did not come to fight. I just wanted to see Amya. I will return everything that you gave. I will give more. You give Amya back to me.”

“You’re a fool!” Amya hissed, and slapped him hard in the face. Then turning to Datu Gaponggo she said: “Kill him. Or he will kill you. Kill him!” And she left with decisive steps, the crowd following her with their eyes.

Mangulayon felt as if the entire heaven collapsed on him. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He couldn’t understand Amya’s behavior. Demand his death! He had come to know the truth. And now he knew! He was bound, muddied, and bleeding amid a hostile people. Powerful emotions surged inside him as he realized he was in a very vulnerable position. He could even be killed, and for what? His eyes stung with tears which he tried hard to suppress.

“We’ll see what Datu Tomaros has to say about this,” Datu Gaponggo said. “In the meantime, send him to Mamacao.”

It was already deep in the night, but Mangulayon couldn’t sleep. They no longer tied his hands at night, but he still couldn’t sleep. Around him were six warriors who were sleeping soundly, two or three of them snoring. Like them he was tired after working all day in the kaingin, but his mind was still active. He kept thinking of Amya’s betrayal. The wound in his neck had healed, but the wound in his heart festered. He couldn’t tear away from his mind what she did to him in front of the Bitaogan people. Any sign of affection would have mitigated the indignity he was suffering in the hands of his captors. His efforts to see her would have meant something then. But she kicked him, slapped him, and ordered him killed! When he thought of that, he would weep silently at night. He raged inside him. He wanted to shout. Run amuck! Against his will hatred for Amya grew in his heart, as intense as his hatred for Datu Gaponggo! Datu Gaponggo! He swore he would pay for all this. He was just a simple hunter, doing nobody any harm, but Datu Gaponggo had to interfere with his life. He was going to kill him! He was going to kill Amya! And he wept silently, feeling so alone and abandoned. Amya, his mind called out. Amya! And inside him he felt a rage that knew no bounds. He wished the night would end quickly. He wanted daylight to come. He wouldn’t think of her then.

In the morning, the kaingin hummed with activity. Overhead, flocks of parrots winged their way into neighboring forests. Occasional hornbills would alight on surrounding trees, make cawing sounds, and fly away. Mangulayon concentrated on axing a tree. He was one of more than twenty workers who were working in the kaingin in Mamacao, a fairly wide terrace on a mountainside that was difficult to ascend, and therefore easy to defend. It was to be the redoubt of Bitaogan in case the Spaniards counterattacked. That was all the talk among the kaingin workers. Bitaogan had agreed to attack Mati. They were now planning with the Mandayas around Dawan and the Moros of Tagabakid to coordinate their attacks on the town.

When it was lunchtime Mangulayon sat beside the stump of a huge tree and ate his camote in silence. The slave Daksa, who had become his friend, later joined him. Daksa was a few years older than Mangulayon. He was sold as a slave when still a child to Datu Gaponggo’s family. He had become a trusted slave, and was in fact treated like a family member. He was assigned to shuttle between Mamacao and Bitaogan to bring provisions and do other errands.

“Next week, we’ll burn the kaingin,” Daksa said. “The clearing is already wide enough. Then the women will come and plant. The warriors are raring to go to Mati.” Then Daksa’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “Do you know you’re very lucky? You should have been dead by now. Everybody’s surprised Datu Gaponggo didn’t kill you.”

“Why would he kill me? I didn’t violate the truce.”

“All the men, he killed. The husbands of his women, I mean. Maybe he’s trying to humor Datu Tomaros. But he doesn’t really need to kill anymore. That kampilan of his has killed more than a hundred men. But you watch out for Bilto and Sumalay, the younger brothers. They’re racing each other to get a full bagani title. Bilto lacks one kill to score twenty, while Sumalay lacks three. They will find any reason to kill you.”

Mangulayon fell silent, letting the information sink in. He was in grave danger. Working at Mamacao was only a temporary reprieve.

“They won’t find any reason. I am not a danger to them,” he said, appearing to be unconcerned. “They won’t dare offend Datu Dumblag. Anyway, when they get to Mati they can kill as many as they like.”

Daksa laughed. “Yes, that’s true. But you know, as a captive… You just cannot tell. By the way, I heard Datu Dumblag has agreed to attack Sigaboy.”

“I wonder why he hasn’t done anything to get me out of here.”

“I guess everybody’s busy. This war talk is everywhere.”

“I can be useful while I’m here. I can hunt. I can bring meat. It will make camote taste better. All I need is a spear. There are many wild pigs and deer around here.”

“They say you’re the best hunter of Malita. But I’ll have to confer with Macusang. l suppose it’s possible. Here, get some betel nut chew,” Daksa said, opening a packet made of banana leaf. “Amya gave this to me. She said I should share it with everybody. A strange girl. She’s almost like a Bisaya. Planting here and there. Datu Gaponggo’s very fond of her though.”

Mangulayon felt as if a spear pierced his heart, but he kept silent.

“Datu Dumblag and Datu Gapoggo have always been fighting. Now there will be peace between them. Whew, the fortune Bitaogan had to pay for her! She’s more expensive than a Moro princess!”

So, this was the real reason why Datu Gaponggo had kept Amya. It was to extend Bitaogan’s land and waters, the same reason his brother had married him off to Amya. But Datu Dumblag had other daughters! Why Amya! Amya was his wife! Anger again flared in Mangulayon’s heart, but he quickly reined it in. He mustn’t show his true feelings. He must appear resigned. He must appear like a submissive slave until he could make his plan of revenge!

“Hmm, what’s this?” Daksa said, picking out a piece of what appeared to be a leaf. He smelled it. “Oh, ilang-ilang,” and he threw it by his feet. “Here, get some.”

Mangulayon’s hand trembled as he picked up half a betel nut amid some ilang-ilang flowers on the unfolded banana leaf. He sprinkled the nut with lime dust, folded a betel leaf around it, and put the chew in his mouth. Ilang-ilang flowers? He picked up an ilang-ilang and smelled it, then threw it by his feet nonchalantly. Was Amya sending him a message? Mangulayon’s heart began to beat wildly. She was sending him a message, he was sure of it! When Daksa left him to distribute the betel nut chew to the other workers, Mangulayon secretly picked up the ilang-ilang flowers that had been thrown on the ground and tucked them in his waist.

That night Mangulayon could not sleep. He was very excited. He kept smelling the ilang-ilang flowers which he cupped in his hand. Amya cared for him! Yes! And images flashed in his mind. She always woke him up in the early morning as the parrots chattered in the trees. Then she would nudge him to take a dip in the river. How he loved to hear her laughter, soft and sparkling. But most of all he loved to see the delight in her face when he brought her ilang-ilang flowers. How beautiful she was, her smiling face framed by bangs and two long stands of hair dropping by her ears. Amya! She cared for him after all, he was sure of that! But then the image of his capture loomed in his mind, and deep doubts assailed him. She had kicked him, slapped him, and ordered him killed! If she had cared for him she would have rushed to protect him! She had abandoned him! No! She cared for him! That was the meaning of the ilang-ilang flowers! But what if he was wrong? What if the ilang-ilang flowers were not meant for him? What if she was happy with Datu Gaponggo? And when he thought of that, his hatred for Datu Gaponggo seized his whole being. He was going to kill him! He was going to kill Amya! And when this thought crossed his mind, he gave in to his tears. No! She cared for him! He wished that she cared for him! And throughout the night, Mangulayon was tormented by contradictory passions.

In the morning, Mangulayon got a spear and bolo from Daksa, and he immediately set out for the forest. Without a dog, he knew it would be difficult to chase down a pig, but he had to try. Studying the ground, he found pig tracks in the gap between two boulders. The gap led into a depression which the pigs skirted on their way to a little stream. A natural pit trap! At some distance he found a bamboo grove of the butong variety standing on a hillock. The hillock marked the start of a cliff with a sheer drop down a wide river. Before cutting the bamboo Mangulayon offered betel nut chew to the panayangan tree spirits, and he also prayed to the Virgin Mary. He split some of the bamboo to make sharpened stakes. He brought the sharpened stakes to the depression and stuck them on the ground. He placed bamboo sticks across the mouth of the pit, creating a lattice. He then carefully covered it with various leaves, then put a thin layer of soil on top of the leaves, then put burned camote at the center of the trap, then gathered dried leaves and threw them onto the pit trap to make it blend with the surroundings.

In the brush at some distance from the pit trap Mangulayon also found pig tracks. He selected a tree branch that recoiled sharply, cut it, and constructed a balatik spear trap out of it. He stuck a small Y-shaped branch on the ground and laid on it a sharpened piece of wood that he had fashioned into a spear. Around the taut behuko rattan that was the trip mechanism he scattered pieces of burned camote. In another brush he constructed his second balatik. Then Mangulayon rested for a while. He could build more traps the next day. It was already late in the afternoon and he decided to go back to the kaingin.

At the kaingin the workers had stopped working and were idling around, forming groups around outdoor fires where they grilled camote or bananas, or cooked them in pots. Daksa called him to join his group. The talk was centered on the planned attack against the Spaniards in Mati. Datu Gapunggo had already sent the first batch of warriors to reinforce the Dawan and Tagabakid contingents that were poised to attack Mati. They did not understand why Datu Gaponggo was still keeping them at the Mamacao kaingin when it was already wide enough. Anyway they were just waiting for orders. They had long been prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, many of them eager to get their bagani ranks.

The next morning work at the kaingin began as usual, and Mangulayon went out to inspect his traps. They had not been disturbed, so he decided to search for the wild pigs. An hour into his search in another section of the forest he found deer tracks. Fresh deer tracks! He followed the tracks that led to a pool. Instead of following the tracks further he decided to wait near the pool. He hid in a bush where he made himself comfortable and waited. He waited, trying not to think of anything else but the hunt. And sure enough, after what had seemed like an eternity, a doe appeared to drink at the pool. At the right moment, Mangulayon attacked, completely surprising the doe.

Mangulayon was excited as he returned to the kaingin, the deer slung on his shoulder. They were going to have a feast! The sun had just passed high noon. It had been a long walk, and the load was heavy, but he didn’t mind it. When he was near the kaingin he was almost half-running, very eager to show off the result of the hunt. But to his surprise the kaingin was silent. Were they resting already? He didn’t see anybody about. He looked inside a hut; it had been cleaned out. He put the carcass of the deer on the ground and went to the other huts. They were all empty. The kaingin had been abandoned!

“Yuhoy! Yuhoy!” he called out. The response was utter silence. Then he heard the rustling of footsteps, and when he looked in the direction of the noise he saw Datu Gaponggo with his two brothers. Deep in his heart he hated Datu Gaponggo, and in his mind he had killed him many times, but seeing him now with his kampilan struck terror in his heart. His knees began to shake. As custom dictated, Mangulayon dropped his spear and bolo to show his submission. But the younger brothers advanced towards him with a strange look in their eyes. One raised a spear, the other a kampilan. It struck him as a hostile act, and instinct told him to run. He turned around and ran. He ran as fast as he could. They meant to kill him! The spear grazed his leg, hitting a branch of a fallen tree as he climbed over it. He ran, or climbed over fallen trees, or ducked under them, with the two brothers in hot pursuit. He cursed himself for dropping his weapons. He was totally defenseless against the veteran fighters. He swung his head to take a quick look at his back and saw that the brothers were quickly closing the distance between them. The warrior would soon be in a position to throw his spear again. It was going to be his end. There was nowhere to hide, no time to hide. Then he suddenly realized he was in the vicinity of the traps! The traps! He ran with a zigzag motion, using the trees to cover him and prevent the warrior from throwing his spear. He ran towards the two boulders. The warrior was gaining fast on him. Past the two boulders, Mangulayon went to the left before curving to the right. He glanced back, and as he had expected, the warrior made a short cut and fell with a crash into the pit trap, uttering a hideous cry!

The other warrior hesitated for a moment as he saw his brother dead or dying. Then with a cry he rushed at Mangulayon with a raised kampilan. Mangulayon made a dash towards the nearest balatik. Having crossed the balatik, Mangulayon suddenly stopped to pick up a stone. The stone hit the warrior’s shoulder, but the warrior didn’t mind it and continued rushing at him. The warrior tripped on the trigger mechanism, and fell to the ground as the spear made a quick swooshing sound, skewering his stomach.

Mangulayon dropped to his knees, gasping, and crying, allowing the terror he felt inside to subside. Then he realized he was still in grave danger and could not afford to relax. He rose quickly and took the kampilan. He found it heavy. But at least he had a weapon. Then as he had feared, he saw Datu Gaponggo emerge from a distance. Strong emotions buffeted him. His hate for the man surged inside him! He must kill him! He wanted to rush at him and fight him! But he knew he had no chance against the master bagani. And realizing this, he was suddenly seized with fright as Datu Gaponggo advanced toward him. The second balatik! He would draw Datu Gaponggo toward the second balatik! He ran toward the brush. Datu Gaponggo followed him at a steady pace, not attempting to overrun him. He understood Datu Gaponggo’s plan. Follow him, wear him down, and finally corner him. Datu Gaponggo must have sensed that he was getting tired. His hope was the balatik! After crossing the rattan trigger mechanism, he stopped and faced Datu Gaponggo. He searched around for a long stick, and finding one he raised it as if it were a spear, and aimed it at Datu Gaponggo. Datu Gaponggo slowly advanced, then with a sudden stroke, he cut the trigger rattan, and the spear in the trap flew harmlessly into the brush. Mangulayon saw a scornful smile cross Datu Gaponggo’s face. He had seen through his plan! Mangulayon threw the piece of stick at Datu Gaponggo who deflected it easily with his kampilan. Mangulayon thought of fighting it out and raised the kampilan. But when Datu Gaponggo advanced toward him, he lost heart. He knew he couldn’t win, and his knees began to shake in the overpowering presence of his enemy. With all his might he threw the kampilan at his advancing enemy. Datu Gaponggo merely shunted the kampilan with his own kampilan, making a loud clanging sound.

And Mangulayon was running again. He was tired. He did not know where he was going. He only knew he must get away from Datu Gaponggo. Then he realized he was heading toward the cliff. Datu Gaponggo had deliberately led him there! But the river! It was his hope! He ran toward the cliff only to find that it was too high, and the river too far. If he jumped he would surely fall on the rocks below. Toward his left he saw the hillock where he had gotten the bamboo poles. He remembered the river had seemed to snake nearer to the cliff. His hopes revived! Gasping for breath he climbed the hillock that was littered with the bamboo poles he had cut. To his dismay he found the river was still too far to jump. He was faced with the choice of jumping or fighting. Either way, he was going to die, and when he realized it was his end he raged and shouted at the top of his lungs. He picked up a sharpened bamboo pole, intending to face his relentless enemy. Like a wild boar that had been cornered, he was going to rush at his enemy! If he was going to die he might as well die fighting! Datu Gaponggo was now at the foot of the hillock. Shaking with fear, Mangulayon tried to steady himself and threw his bamboo spear. Datu Gaponggo merely flicked his kampilan to deflect it. Mangulayon picked up another bamboo spear and prepared to throw it. Datu Gaponggo merely looked at him, and their eyes met for a few seconds. What struck Mangulayon was that Datu Gaponggo’s eyes were calm, even kind. His enemy began to ascend slowly. As Datu Gaponggo was ascending, he looked down briefly to secure his footing. In that split second, Mangulayon’s instinct took over him, and he threw his spear, hitting Datu Gaponggo in his chest, making him fall backward, his kampilan flying away from his hand. The sight of his fallen enemy first stunned Mangulayon, but he recovered quickly. He ran down the slope and took Datu Gaponggo’s kampilan. As Datu Gaponggo writhed, Mangulayon brought down the kampilan and beheaded his enemy. Tears blinding his eyes, he raised the enemy’s head by its hair and shouted victory cries at the top of his lungs! He danced around, offering a victory prayer to the war deity Mandalangan.

Exhausted, Mangulayon rested for a while. He couldn’t believe his triumphs. He was alive! He looked at his body and was appalled to see so much blood on his person. He washed himself clean in a stream. He also washed Datu Gaponggo’s kampilan. Now he was going to rescue Amya!

The sun was starting to sink beyond the mountains when he reached the village. Half-running, he went boldly to the center of the village, passing by women and children who did not pay him any attention. At the biggest house he saw her! Amya! She was calling the chickens, scattering corn around her. His heart leapt with excitement at the sight of her. He wanted so much to touch her, to embrace her, and bring her away, away to where nobody would dare touch them again! But then he stopped on his tracks, not knowing how she would receive him. He remembered how she had slapped him, kicked him, and ordered him killed!

When she saw him, her mouth dropped, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked around quickly, and froze. He followed the direction of her eyes and saw an old man by the window of the big house. He recognized the old man: the chief Bitaogan negotiator! Suddenly Amya rushed at him, shouting, “Go away! Go away!”

Mangulayon thought she was going to strike him, and he took a few steps backward, raising the kampilan as a warning.

“Now, he’s going to kill you,” she hissed. “Don’t you understand? I tried to save you once! Now, I can’t anymore. You must go! Run! Hurry!”

She tried to save him? She cared for him! And Mangulayon’s heart swelled with utter joy. Then he heard rapid gong sounds, and warriors appearing out of nowhere. They were either very young or very old warriors, the able-bodied men having been sent to Mati. The old man advanced toward him with a raised kampilan. The other warriors also advanced toward him.

Mangulayon stood his ground as Amya kept pushing him, telling him to run. But he was ready to die with Amya by his side! The old man advanced slowly, holding the kampilan with his two hands. But a few paces away from Mangulayon, the old man suddenly stopped.

“What are you doing with my son’s kampilan?” he asked in a loud voice.

The father of Datu Gaponggo! He had recognized his son’s kampilan! Mangulayon raised the kampilan higher, ready to defend himself. To his utter surprise the old man dropped his kampilan to the ground. The act of submission confused the other warriors, paralyzing them.

“You have killed him?” Amya asked in disbelief, looking at the kampilan.

Mangulayon felt Amya’s hand pulling him. She was not pushing him, but pulling him. She was going away with him! He let Amya lead him. He felt so light, his heart pounding with excitement and joy. Amya was finally beside him, running beside him, tears streaming down her face. As he was running, many thoughts crowded his mind, but he shunted them aside. The most important thing was that Amya was beside him, smelling of ilang-ilang that he had missed so much for so long.

—-
Macario Tiu teaches Literature at Ateneo de Davao University. This story was published in the December 21, 2008 issue of Philippine Graphic.

“Paspas kay dakpon ta,” matod sa drayber
Sa pasaherong nagtinikling sa guot nga sakyanan.

Apan kadakong demalas kay mas naglurat ang mata
Sa polis trapiko ug nasakpan ang drayber sa akto.
“Nganong namik-ap man kag pasahero
Nasayod man kang gidili dinhi kay makalangan sa trapiko?”

Tubag sa drayber: “Nganong ako man lay imong nakita?
Daghan mang drayber ang namik-ap og pasahero?”

“Ikaw ray mihunong. Mituyo kag hunong. Lisensya!”
Nangatarongag maayo ang drayber apan dili na maminaw
Ang polis trapiko sa kadaghang sakyanang gibantayan.
“Lisensya. Ihatag na ang lisensya!”
Naunsa ba nga mipaturatoy man hinuog dagan ang dyipni!?
Apan pagtabok niya sa tulay adunay duha ka polis trapiko
Nga nagwara-wara aron pahunongon siya.
Giradyo diay siya. Giatngan diay siya.
“Nganong miikyas ka? Lisensya!” ingon nila.

“Nasuko man god tong polis, Sir,” matod sa drayber.

“Wala na mi labot niana. Lisensya!”
Agoy, pagkaalaot sa drayber nga nanginabuhi.
Lagmit nag-ekstra lang siya. Lagmit wala siyay lisensya.
Imbis usa ray kaso sa pagpamik-ap nga dili sakto
Karon nadugangan na hinuog ubang kaso.
Nahabwa ang mga pasahero
Kay gustong makaabot dayon sa destino.
Intawon ang drayber nagdaginot og mumho
Nakulban na hinuog kaldero.

—-
Macario D. Tiu teaches literature at the Ateneo de Davao University. He is a multi-awarded writer and Davao historian.

Kondili lang siya mahadlok sa mga Hapon, hagbay rang mibalik si Peryang sa Zamboanga. Gilaayan na kaayo siya sa Malayal. Luwas lagi sila sa peligro sa gera, pero haskang laaya sa kinabuhi sa Malayal. Walay kalingawan, walay kasuroyan. Sa iyang atubangan, dagat; sa iyang luyo, bukid ug lasang. Apan iya na lang giantos ang tanan sulod sa tulo ka tuig kaysa makatilaw sa kabangis sa mga Hapon. Kuyawan siya sa mga estorya sa huwes de kutsilyo. Pagka salbahis nianang mga bakang! Walay kaluoy! Tiaw mo nang hasta mga bata? Iitsa lang kuno sa taas, unya dawaton og bayoneta? Ang mga inosenteng bata! Ug gibaswat ni Peryang ang iyang duha-ka-tuig nga bata nga nagdula sa yutang salog nga gihanigan og banig.

“Simbako, Nene! Simbako!” ni Peryang pa, ug gihalog-halogan niya ang bata.

Mikisi-kisi ang bata kay nahulog ang iyang dulaang munyeka sa salog. Gibutang ni Peryang ang bata og balik sa salog aron magdula sa iyang kaugalingon.

Maayo na lang wala pay nasaag nga Hapon sa Malayal. Kapila na to gihugon-hugon nga sulongon kuno sila, apan kaluoy sa Diyos wala gyoy nadayon. Tungod tingali kay layo ra kaayo ni sa Zamboanga diin nagkampo ang mga mangtas. Ambot unsa kahay iyang buhaton kon moabot ang mga Hapon!

Nanghupaw si Peryang ug milantaw sa dagat. Sa tuong bahin diin mikurbada ang baybayon iyang nakita ang panon sa mga tawo nga nagdagan padulong sa ilang baryo. Gitutokan niyag maayo ang mga tawong nagdagan. Morag naay pormasyon ang ilang pagdagan. Naay tag-as nga mga pusil! Naay bayoneta! Naglumpat-lumpat ang dunggan-dunggan sa ilang mga kalo! Mga Hapon! Kadaghang Hapon!

Nangurog ang tibuok lawas ni Peryang. Huwes de kutsilyo! Mao dayon nay misulod sa iyang hunahuna. Gusto niyang modagan apan dili siya makalihok. Gusto niyang mosinggit apan walay tingog nga mogawas sa iyang tutunlan. Dihang duol na sila sa baryo, nagkatag ang mga Hapon. Naay miliko padulong sa kabungtoran, naay mideretso sa baryo, ug naay duha ka sundalo nga misulod sa iyang payag! Ang usa sa Hapon mition og bayoneta kaniya. Labaw na siyang wala makalihok. Apan dihang mihilak ang iyang anak pagkakita sa mga sundalo, daw nahigmata siya ug kalit nga nakalihok.

“Ayaw!” Gikupoan niya ang iyang anak aron panalipdan ni. “Ayaw! Maluoy intawon mo!”

Igo lang mitindog ang Hapon nga nagtion sa bayoneta. Ang kauban niini misilip sa kuwarto. Dihang walay nakita, gisinggitan si Peryang sa Hapon kinsa nagtudlo-tudlo sa iyang pusil ngadto sa gawas. Kay wala niya masabtan ang Hapon, wala siya molihok. Gitulak siya sa Hapon pagawas ug diriyot siyang masukamod sa batoong yuta. Iyang gikugos si Nene nga durong tiyabaw.

Pag-abot sa baybay, gipatindog siya ubos sa init sa Adlaw. Mao na ni ang ilang kataposan, sa hunahuna pa ni Peryang. Hugot niyang gigakos ang iyang anak ug nakigduyog sa paghilak niini. Wala pa gyod si Dodong! Mamatay silang wala ang iyang bana! Taudtaod nangabot ang pipila ka Hapon nga nagdala sa iyang mga silingan. Ang upat ka hamtong nga lalaki gipalinya, ang ilang mga kamot gibutang sa likod sa ilang ulo. Ang mga hamtong nga babaye ug ang mga bata gipatipon kaniya.

“Maru hente, maru hente! Donde maru hente?” singhag sa usa ka Hapon ngadto sa kalalakin-an. Dihang walay mitubag, gibukbok sa Hapon ang usa sa lalaki gamit ang pul-an sa pusil. Miagulo ang lalaki nga nakaluhod sa kasakit. Gitabangan siya sa ubang mga lalaki aron makabakod.

“Unsa kuno, Inambis? Unsay ilang tuyo?” hunghong ni Peryang sa iyang tupad nga Subana.

“Ta buska sila mal hente. Daotang tawo. Mga gerilya,” mitubag ang gipangutan-an nga nagsagol ang chavacano ug binisaya.

Nakit-an sila sa Hapon nga naghinunghongay ug gisingkahan sila. Nahaulpot ni Peryang sa kakurat. Miduko siya ug nangurus. Bisag naa na siyay kauban, wala gihapon mahuwas ang iyang gibating kakulba. Sa iyang paminaw, mora siyag malipong. Kusog ang pitik sa iyang kabuhi. Naglabad ang iyang ulo sa kainit sa Adlaw nga daw midulot na sa iyang bagol-bagol. Wala na kaantos sa panglaylay sa iyang bukton gumikan sa pagkinarga sa iyang anak, iya kining gibutang sa yuta. Mihilak ang bata ug hugot nga migakos sa iyang batiis. Iyang gitrapohan sa sidsid sa iyang saya ang nagsagol nga sip-on ug luha sa bata.

“Shh. Shh. Hilom na, Nene,” alam-alam niya sa bata apan wala kini mohilom. Iyang gikugos pag-usab ang bata.

Nangabot ang uban pang Hapon, dala ang kapin napulo ka bakwit nga mga Insek nga nagpuyo sa tabok sa sapa. Nakita ni Peryang nga nag-estoryahanay ug nagsenyasay ang usa sa Insek ug ang gituohan niyang lider sa mga Hapon. Adunay gisulat sa bunbon ang Hapon. Misulat usab ang Insek sa bunbon. Wala na kahibalo sa misunod nga panghitabo si Peryang tungod kay naay kalit nga misurok gikan sa iyang kutukuto padulong sa iyang ulo. Napalong ang iyang panan-aw.

Kon nganong naamigo sa iyang anak ang Hapon, dili gyod niya masabtan. Maulawon ug hadlokan man unta kaayo ni. Dili gani pakugos sa ilang kailang mga silingan, mohilak! Apan naunsa ba, nagyaka na man hinuon ni atubangan sa usa ka Hapon? Si Nene, nakigdula sa usa ka sundalong Hapon! Magpunayg katawa pa gyod! Katawa sa tumang kalipay. Ang gikahimut-an niini mao ang langgam-langgam nga ginama sa papel. Mokapay-kapay ang mga pako niini kon bitad-bitaron sa Hapon ang ikog sa langgam-langgam. Matag kapay sa mga pako, mokirig sa kalipay si Nene, ang tagning niining kagiki moukiok sa tanang suok sa payag. Wala ni manumbaling sa taas nga pusil nga gitaorag sinaw nga bayoneta duol sa pultahan!

Wala siya masayod unsay sinugdanan sa panag-amigo sa duha. Dihang naulian siyag panimuot kagahapon, iya na lang nakita nga nagtupad si Nene ug ang Hapon. Daw damgo lamang kadto, pero makahinumdom siya nga perte niyang kuyawa! Huwes de kutsilyo! Gusto niyang layogon ang Hapon, sakmiton si Nene, ug mokagiw ngadto sa lasang, apan wala siyay kusog niadtong tungora. Gani, tungod sa kalapoy sa iyang lawas ug sa kahadlok, napalong na usab ang iyang panimuot. Wala gani siya makapanihapon.

Ug kaganina, mibalik na sab ang Hapon sa payag ug gitagbo pa gyod ni Nene. Mora silag karaang amigo. Gigakos-gakos pa gyod sa bata ang Hapon! Di gyod niya masabtan. Gimingaw sa iyang amahan? Nganong Hapon may ipuli nga dako mag mata si Dodong gawas nga pagtong ang panit? Sa iyang kabahin, gibati siyag nerbiyos. Dili gyod siya mahimutang. Dili man gani siya motan-aw sa Hapon. Kon dili siya mamatay sa huwes de kutsilyo, segurado gyong mamatay siya sa nerbiyos!

Ambot giunsa niya nga nakahuman ra man siyag luto og lugaw. Dihang naghukad na siya, nagduha-duha siya kon iya bang apilag hukad ang Hapon. Malipay ba ni o masuko ba hinuon kon iyang dalitag lugaw. Apan nakahukom siya nga mas maayo pang kasuk-an siya kay nanghatag kaysa kasuk-an kay wala manghatag.

“Niay lugaw, Senyor,” ni Peryang pa nga nagkurog-kurog ang tingog. Wala siya kahibalo kon unsaon pagtawag sa Hapon ug busa senyor na lay iyang gigamit, sama sa iyang pagtawag sa iyang amo sa Zamboanga. Nagyukbo-yukbo siya atubangan sa Hapon, gidukog maayo ang iyang ulo, hadlok motan-aw sa Hapon.

Sa iyang katingala, gidawat sa Hapon ang iyang gitunol. Naa niy gisulti, unya gikuot niini ang iyang pitaka ug gitunolan si Peryang og kuwartang Hapon. Milingo-lingo si Peryang sa pamalibad. “Libre na, Senyor, libre,” matod pa niya.

Apan namugos ang Hapon ug gidawat na lang ni Peryang ang baynte pesos nga dukoy.

Samtang gihungitan niya si Nene nga nagkupot sa langgam-langgam, mopasiplat siyag tan-aw sa Hapon. Kakataw-anon siya kay gituwad niini ang sartin ngadto sa iyang baba, dayong kakha sa kutsara aron mokaon. Daw pato kining misuyop sa lugaw. Sa tantong paniplat ni Peryang, iyang naamgohan nga bata pa kaayo ang Hapon. Mao nay una niyang namatikdan. Kaedad ra tingali niya. Disisais o kaha disisiyete. Ug yuna. Gwapo diay ang Hapon. Maayo ang tabas sa nawong niini. Puti ug hamis kaayo ang iyang nawong nga giarkohan og bagang mga kilay, samtang ang iyang apapangig gianinohan og linghod nga bangas.

“Nali,” matod pa ni Nene.

Wala makasabot si Peryang sa gisulti sa bata, apan mingisi ang Hapon ug naserhan ang mga mata niini sa iyang mga tabon-tabon. Migaan ang pagbati ni Peryang ngadto sa Hapon. Ang midangat kaniya sa tibuok panagway sa Hapon mao ang kaaghop niini. Wala gyod siyay makitang timailhan sa pagka bangis ug pagka balasubas sa Hapon. Ug samtang gipakaon niya si Nene, gibatig kalinaw si Peryang sa iyang kaugalingon. Ang kakulba nga iyang gibati sukad pa kagahapon naubsan. Misalig siya sa iyang nakita. Nakahukom siyang buotan ang Hapon nga naamigo sa iyang anak.

Humag kaon, gihapuhap sa Hapon ang ulo sa bata agig panamilit ug milakaw, dala ang iyang pusil. Nakaginhawag luag si Peryang. Bisag daw buotan ang Hapon, nerbiyoson lang gihapon siya sa presensiya niini. Iyang gihugasan ang mga kinan-an ug gipanghipos ang mga papel nga nagpasad sa salog. Gianugonan siya sa magasin nga gigisi aron himoong langgam-langgam. Gibiyaan na ni sa iyang amo sa Zamboanga ug iya gyong gihagoag bitbit sa ilang pagbakwit kay ganahan siya sa mga larawan niini. Mao ni usahay ang awayan nila sa iyang banang si Dodong kay manggisi og magasin aron ipanglikit og inad-ad nga tabako.

Ambot hain na tong kagwanga, sa hunahuna pa niya. Naguol na siya kay magtulo ka semana na nga wala ni makauli gikan sa paglayag sa dalamas kauban sa mga amo niining Insek. Karon pa gyod nga giyak-an silag Hapon sa Malayal. Ambot unsa kahay tuyo nila nga wala may gerilya sa Malayal! Wala ganiy gerilya bisag didtos kabukiran. Wala siyay hanaw unsay kahimtang sa baryo. Wala siyay gawas-gawas sa balay. Wala makaadto sa tindahan ni Pawa. Simbakog makatagbog Hapon! Kon mahimo pa lang gusto niyang matunaw o mahanaw. Pagka kapoy na lang nga magsigeg dibal ang iyang dughan. Gusto niyang magtikuko sa suok sa payag hangtod molayas ang mga Hapon.

Nagtibi si Nene nga miduol kaniya. Nangahuslo na diay ang mga pilo sa langgam-langgam sa tantong pagbitad-bitad sa ikog niini. Gitun-an ni Peryang ang langgam nga papel ug gisulayan og suhid ang karaang mga pilo. Apan bisag unsaon niyag pilo ang papel dinhi ug didto, dili gyod niya mauli ang hulmang langgam. Iya na lang ning gipulihan og dulaang munyeka apan igo lang ning giwakli sa bata. Naguba ang nawong niini ug dayon nang mihilak. Wala ni moundang hangtod nga nakapoy ug nakatulog.

Miharag na ang Adlaw dihang ningmata ang bata. Wala usab madugay, mibalik ang Hapon sa payag. Nagtuya-tuya nga miduol si Nene ngadto sa Hapon ug gihatag ang guba nga langgam nga papel. Bisag nagsagol ang kataha ug kahadlok, miduol usab si Peryang aron tan-awon kon unsaon paghimo sa langgam. Daw nakasabot ang Hapon sa tuyo ni Peryang ug gitudlo niini ang mga magasin nga gihapnig sa kilid sa bungbong. Pagkahatag ni Peryang sa magasin, hinay nga gitastas sa Hapon ang usa ka pahina. Iya ning gipilo ug gigisi ang milabaw nga bahin aron motupong ang masigkakilid niini. Iya ning gihatag kang Peryang, ug gisenyasan sa pagtupad kaniya. Nagsugod og pilog balik ang Hapon sa guba nga langgam-langgam.

Hinay ang iyang pagpilo aron makasunod si Peryang.

“Tsu-ru,” matod pa sa Hapon. “Tsu-ru,” subli niini.

Igo lang mingisi si Peryang nga nagduko, ang iyang mga mata didto sa kamot sa Hapon. Matag pilo sa Hapon, iya dayong sundon. Kondili siya makasunod, usbon sa Hapon ang pagpilo. Nahimuot si Peryang dihang mihulma na ang duha ka tumoy sa papel ug mga pako niini. Ang usa sa tumoy gipilo paubos aron mahimong ulo ug sungo, samtang ang pikas tumoy gipilo pataas aron mahimong ikog. Ang kataposang gibuhat sa Hapon mao ang pagbawog sa mga pako.

“Tsuru,” sulti sa Hapon. Gitudlo sa Hapon ang papel nga langgam. “Tsuru.”

“Tsu-lu,” sagbat sa bata.

Gigunitan sa Hapon ang ubos nga lawas sa langgam ug gibitad-bitad ang ikog niini. Mikapa-kapa ang mga pako sa langgam. Durong katawa sa bata!

Gibitad-bitad usab ni Peryang ang ikog sa langgam ug mikapa-kapa ang mga pako niini. Nahimuot siya sa iyang nahimo. Miyahat si Peryang ug gitan-aw ang Hapon. Nagtagbo ang ilang mga mata. Kalit niyang gipaubos ang iyang panan-aw.

“Mi-ki-na-ri,” hinay-hinay nga militok ang Hapon samtang nagtudlo sa iyang ilong. “Mi-ki-na-ri,” subli niini.

“Na-li,” tubag sa bata. “Nali,” ug miagik-ik ni.

“Mikinari,” sulti ni Peryang.

Miyango-yango ang Hapon. “Mikinari, Mikinari,” ug gitudlo-tudlo niini ang iyang ilong.

Gitudlo ni Peryang ang iyang dughan, “Per-yang.”

“Per-yang,” balos sa Hapon. Mipahiyom ni, ug nangawala ang iyang mga mata.

Gikuha ni Mikinari ang iyang pitaka ug naay gikuot nga letrato. Iya ning gipakita kang Peryang. Sa letrato makita si Mikinari tupad sa usa ka batan-ong babaye nga nagkugos og puya. Asawa niya ug anak?

Gihilam-hilam sa tudlo ni Mikinari ang larawan sa babaye ug sa bata.

“Hi-ro-ko,” miingon ni nga nagtudlo sa babaye, ug “Ha-ji-me,” ngadto sa bata.

Gitan-aw ni Peryang ang Hapon, ug nakita niyang masulub-on ang dagway niini. Nasabtan ni Peryang ang gibati sa Hapon. Gimingaw ni sa iyang pamilya. Ug kalit lang gibatig dakong kaluoy si Peryang sa Hapon. Mingawon man gani siya kang Dodong nga mawala lag pila ka semana ug naa ra sa kasikbit nga mga lungsod, unsa na kaha kon kapin bulan o kaha tuig silang magkabulag? Mas lisod ang kahimtang sa Hapon. Gusto niyang ipahibalo sa Hapon nga nakasabot siya sa gibati niini, apan unsaon ni pagsulti? Mihuot ang dughan ni Peryang. Milingiw siya kay kahilakon siya. Wala siya kasabot sa iyang gibati. Iyang gipunit si Nene ug maoy gigakos og hugot. Mikisi-kisi ang bata, ug dihang nakabuhi midagan ni ngadto sa Hapon.
“Nali, Nali,” sa bata, ug nagpakugos ni kang Mikinari.

Mihayag ang nawong ni Mikinari ug gikarga niini ang bata. Iya ning gipakabayo sa iyang abaga ug naglakaw-lakaw sa tugkaran nga daw naglupad-lupad. Misulibaw ang katawa sa bata. Gitrapohan ni Peryang ang iyang mga basang mata sa manggas sa iyang sinina. Migisi siyag usa ka pahina sa magasin ug nagsugod og pilo-pilo niini. Nalipay kaayo siya kay natiwas niyag himo ang langgam nga papel sa iyang kaugalingon.

Sa misunod nga buntag, sayong miadto si Peryang sa gulayan kauban si Nene. Namupo silag paliya ug talong, ug nangutlog galay. Samtang nagsugod na siyag luto, miabot si Mikinari nga naghangos. Nakanapsak ni ug nagbitbit sa iyang pusil. Naa ni gisulti kaniya. Igo lang siyang miyango-yango. Naa sab niy gisulti kang Nene nga iyang gihapuhap sa ulo. Pagkahuman, mitalikod na ang Hapon ug milakaw-dagan padulong sa sentro.

“Nali! Nali!” apas panawag sa bata.

Milingi ang Hapon. Gituyhad sa bata ang iyang mubong kamot nga nagkupot sa langgam-langgam, nga daw nagpasabot nga buot niyang ihatag ang dulaang papel ngadto sa iyang amigo. Mingisi ang Hapon ug nangawala ang mga mata niini. Miyukbo ug mikamay ang Hapon ngadto sa bata ug tuling midagan. Wala madugay, nakita ni Peryang ang panon sa mga sundalong Hapon nga nagpadulong sa iyang payag. Misulod sila ni Nene sa payag diin sila nagtikuko nga walay saba-saba. Halos dili siya moginhawa. Dihang napiho ni Peryang nga layo na ang mga Hapon, milili siya sa bentana. Didto diin mikurbada ang baybayon nahanaw sa iyang panan-aw ang mga sundalong Hapon.

Wala pay bulan gikan sa paghugpa ug pagbiya sa mga Hapon sa Malayal, mikaylap ang balita nga midunggo na kuno ang mga Amerikano sa Leyte. Paspas kuno ang pagsulong sa mga Kano ug nangatras na kuno ang mga Hapon. Ang maong balita nakapalipay kang Peryang. Matapos na gyod ang gera. Makabalik na siya sa Zamboanga! Apan ang iyang kalipay gisambogan usab og kabalaka tungod kay gipatuman kuno sa mga Hapon ang huwes de kutsilyo sa mga dapit nga ilang giatrasan. Mas misamot kuno ang ilang kabangis! Maayo na lang kay napulpog na ang ilang kusog, apan naa kunoy mga saag nga Hapon nga nagtago-tago sa lasang.

Ug busa ang mga kalalakin-an sa Malayal nagtibuok og puwersa nga giarmasan og sundang, pana, bangkaw nga kawayan, ug ubang puyde himoong hinagiban. Ang matag balay naghimog kuratong nga maoy tugtogon aron pang-alarma sa mga molupyo kon adunay makitang Hapon. Naay mga grupong magpuli-puli og ronda matag gabii sa palibot sa baryo. Dili na sila padaog-daog sa mga bakang! Manimalos sila! Kagrabe sa gihimo sa mga Hapon sa Malayal. Ang mga kalalakin-an gibihag ug gitangkal. Ang makagawas lang kadtong ilang gipatrabaho. Makatan-aw kag Hapon, sagpa. Makalimot kag yukbo, bukbok. Naa pa gyoy gipagiya ngadto sa lasang. Nangita diay og mga Amerikanong takas. Naa kuno toy barkong Hapon nga natundag dapit sa Sindangan nga lulan og mga presong Amerikano. Gitorpedo man kunog submarinong Amerikano. Daghan kunong nakalangoy sa baybayon ug mao diay toy gipangita sa mga Hapon. Kalayo ra man unta sa Sindangan!

Apan ang nakapasamot sa ilang kasuko mao ang pagkakita sa patayng lawas sa bayong-bayong nga anak ni Inambis sa lasang. Bantog ra wala kiniy uli-uli. Dihang nagsenso man ugod ang mga Hapon, wala kini kay nangayam. Lagmit nakit-an kini sa ronda sa mga Hapon ug gidudahang gerilya. Gilunggoan kinig ulo! Kawala gyoy puangod! Kaswerte ni Peryang kay wala moabot si Dodong samtang naghari ang mga Hapon sa baryo. Gibantayan diay ang iyang balay tungod kay nagduda silang gerilya ang iyang bana. Delikado diay tong iyang kahimtang! Maayo na lang nga buotan tong Hapon nga gipabantay kaniya. Apan alang sa mga taga Malayal, ang tanang Hapon daotan ug angay puohon.

“Bantay lang nang mga bakang nga masaag diris ato. Makatilaw gyod!” mao nay bahad sa mga lalaki.
Si Dodong otro sab nga naglagot sa mga Hapon tungod kay nakatilaw og sagpa didtos Negros diin sila ulahing nagbiyahe sa iyang mga among Insek. Wala gani siya makahibalo sa iyang sala. Kalit lang siyang gisagpa sa checkpoint. Busa miapil-apil sab siyag ronda hangtod nga gitawag og balik sa iyang amo kay mangompra na sab. Pugngan unta ni Peryang tungod kay gubot pa ang kahimtang, apan dili lang kuno siya mabalaka kay hetsas silag pases. Naay pases sa Hapon, naay pases sa mga gerilya. Hawod kuno mopalusot ang iyang mga amo.

“Magkugi ko, Peryang, aron naa tay kaugmaon,” mao nay sulti ni Dodong. “Human sa gera, yawat na lang makapundar tag kaugalingong negosyo.”

Sa tinuod lang, mao nay iyang nagustohan kang Dodong, ang iyang kakugi ug ambisyon. Usa ni ka tindero sa tindahan sa Insek dihang nangamoral kaniya. Daghay saad si Dodong kaniya, daghay damgo. Ug si Peryang, nga gikapoy magbunglay sa panas nga uma sa Siaton ug nagpaka sulugoon sa Zamboanga, nadani sa masilakong mga damgo ni Dodong.

Apan ang gera maoy nagpakgang sa tanan nilang damgo. Nahasum-ok na hinuon sila sa Malayal nga wala gyoy kisaw. Naukay tuod sila makariyot sa mga Hapon, apan mibanos na sab ang dakong kalaay.
“Nali, Nali,” bitad sa iyang anak sa iyang saya samtang siya nanghayhay.

“Ayawg samok diha, Nene, nanghayhay pa ko,” giwakli ni Peryang ang kamot sa iyang anak.
Apan namugos ang bata. “Nali, Nali,” matod niini, ug gikuptan ang iyang kamot ug giguyod siya. Wala siya makasabot sa gustong mahitabo sa bata, apan misunod na lang si Peryang.

Gidala siya sa bata didto sa gulayan, ug dihang gihawan ni Nene ang bagang dahon sa paliya nga nagtabon sa batang, milupad ang iyang espiritu! Usa ka sundalong Hapon ang nagtikuko ug nakation ang bayoneta kaniya!

“Hapon! Hapon!” nangugat si Peryang sa pagsininggit samtang nagdagan. Apan layo ra siyag silingan. Dili siya madunggan. Iyang gamiton ang kuratong! Unya, nahinumdom siya kang Nene, ug paglingi niya, nahibulong siya kay misuong hinuon ang bata sa paliyahan. Midagan siyag balik.

“Nene, Nene! Gawas diha!” siyagit ni Peryang sa dakong kalisang.

Iyang dumogon ang Hapon, sa hunahuna pa ni Peryang. Iyang patyon ang Hapon! Mikuha siyag putol nga kahoy aron pusposan ang Hapon. Dihang gitukas niya ang mga dahon sa paliya, nakita niya nga nakagakos si Nene sa sundalong Hapon.

Kusog ang bunok sa ulan. Matag karon ug unya kawrason sa kilat ang kalangitan nga sundan sa lanog nga dahunog sa dalugdog. Sa baybayon mapungtanong naglamba-lamba ang dagkong mga balod. Nalipay si Peryang nga nagdaot ang panahon. Seguradong walay magronda sa baryo. Makapahulay siyag tarong. Usa ka semana na siyang walay klarong tulog. Unyag adtoan siya sa mga nagronda aron mangape? Unyag magyampungad sa iyang payag tibuok gabii bisag wala si Dodong? Simbako masakpan nila si Mikinari!
Sa adlaw, doble ang iyang alerto kay basig naay kalit manilingan kaniya. Maayo gani kay wala. Bisag si Inambis taudtaod na sab nga wala makabisita kaniya. Siya sab, dugay na nga wala makaadto sa balay sa iyang amiga. Lainan siya moadto kay magsakit ang iyang buot nga magtan-aw kang Inambis nga padayong nagbangotan sa kamatayon sa iyang anak. Maglagot siya…

Sus, ngano ba sab mibutho si Mikinari sa Malayal! Kadakong lasang ang Zamboanga, sa Malayal pa gyod nagtago-tago. Iya untang abogon kay delikado kaayo alang sa Hapon. Apan unsa ba! Masakiton diay. Luya kaayo. Labihang liboga sa iyang pangisip. Dili siya gustog kasamok, busa iya ning gibiyaan sa gulayan. Apan dihang miulan nianang pagkagabii, gihasol siya sa iyang tanlag. Dugay siyang namalandong sa iyang angay buhaton. Nahadlok siyang maangin sa kasuko sa taga baryo, apan naluoy usab siya kang Mikinari. Iyang ning malarawan nga basa kaayo sa ilalom sa batang ug nagpangurog sa katugnaw. Duha ray kapaingnan sa Hapon. Mamatay sa sakit o mamatay sa kamot sa mga taga baryo. Dili! Mao nay singgit sa iyang tanlag. Nangadye siya. Sigeg tulo ang iyang mga luha. Buotan si Mikinari. Wala ni sala kaniya. Wala ni sala sa mga tawo sa baryo. Kana maoy klaro. Ug busa mihukom siyang tabangan si Mikinari.

Pastilan! Misamot pa gyod ang sakit sa Hapon. Duha ka adlaw ning nagsalimuang sa kataas sa iyang hilanat. Gipahigda niya ni sa luyo sa taas nga bangko nga gisalipdag mga sako, bukag ug karton, apan kanunay ni mag-agulo! Makaduha ni nga kalit lang mibakod ug misiyagit sa iyang daman. Unyag mabatian og laing tawo! Nataranta siya sa iyang buhaton. Kon wala pa si Nene, ambot na lang. Kanunay ni sa kilid sa Hapon, magdula-dulag langgam-langam. Kon maglangas si Mikinari, iya lang hapuhapon ang abaga niini. Mokalma ra sab ang Hapon. Iya ning kanta-kantahan, estorya-estoryahan. Mora gyog korek.
Samtang siya, gihasol sa kabalaka ug kahadlok. Kabalaka sa kahimtang ni Mikinari, ug kahadlok nga masakpan! Morag naglutaw-lutaw ang iyang pangisip. Dali siya makuyawan. Gamay lang kasikas, makuratan dayon siya. Kanunay mokuba ang iyang dughan. Magsige siyag hangak. Mag-apas ang iyang ginhawa.

Maayo na lang kay milurang ang hilanat ni Mikinari sa ikatulong adlaw. Naghugo pag-ayo ang lawas niini, apan nakita ni Peryang nga determinado si Mikinari nga mabuhi. Bisag unsay lutoon ni Peryang, kaonon. Wala gyoy masalin sa lugaw nga gisubakag kinunis nga manok. Walay tihik-tihik ning mohigop og sabaw sa kamunggay. Ug hinay-hinay nga mibalik ang kabaskog sa Hapon. Gikalipay kini ni Peryang. Usa na lang ang iyang problema. Kinahanglan nga dili masakpan si Mikinari.

Ug kay padayong nag-alboroto ang kinaiyahan sa gawas sa payag, malinawong nakatulog si Peryang.
Sa misunod nga mga adlaw, padayon ang pag-ayo ni Mikinari. Kanunay ni mag-ehersisyo; unat-unaton ang mga kamot ug tiil, pilo-piloon ug liad-liaron ang lawas. Nakaginhawag luag si Peryang sa maong katikaran. Gusto niyang molakaw na si Mikinari. Dili gyod angay magdugay si Mikinari sa iyang payag. Dili gyod ni angay magdugay sa Malayal. Delikado kaayo. Nasayod siya nga nasabtan ni sa Hapon ug nga naulaw na kini kaniya. Kon kaniadto siya ang dili makatutok sa Hapon, karon, ang Hapon na ang dili makatutok kaniya. Naay mga higayon nga makita niya ning magtan-aw sa gum-os na nga letrato sa iyang pamilya, ug matandog ang balatian ni Peryang. Kanunay ning maglingkod nga nagluhod, dili halos molihok, ang mga mata nakatutok sa haw-ang. Ang dagway niini salamin sa tumang kasubo nga mabuak lamang kon makigdula kaniya si Nene. Ambot nganong ganahan kaayo ang bata sa Hapon. Magsige nig katawa sa iyang katawang makatakod, ug mongisi ang Hapon sa kahimuot, ang mga mata niini serhan sa iyang mga tabon-tabon.

Usa ka gabii niana, bag-o lang nadagkotan ni Peryang ang lamparang bagol, miduol si Mikinari kaniya ug milingkod-luhod sa iyang atubangan. Nagduko ni, dili motan-aw kaniya. Naa ni giestorya. Morag nagdiskurso. Walay nasabtan si Peryang sa gisulti sa Hapon, gawas sa pulong arigato nga balik-balikon niini. Sa paminaw ni Peryang naay tonong masulub-on ang Hapon. Naa poy tonong masuk-anon. Ug sa iyang dakong katingala, nakita niyang nagtulo ang mga luha ni Mikinari samtang nagsulti. Milubad ang tingog niini. Dihang nakita sa bata nga naghilak ang Hapon, iyang gitunol ang langgam nga papel ngadto sa Hapon. Nakalitan ang Hapon ug mihangad. Iyang gitan-aw ang bata, ug mibuhi nig mubong katawa, ang iyang mga mata naserhan sa iyang mga tabon-tabon. Iyang gipahid ang iyang mga luha, gidawat ang langgam-langgam, ug hugot nga gigakos ang bata. Ug pagkahuman mitindog ni, gikuha ang iyang bayoneta sa luyo sa taas nga bangko ug miadto sa pultahan.

Diha pa nasabtan ni Peryang nga molakaw na diay ang Hapon. Iya ning gipugngan makariyot. Dali-dali siyang miadto sa kusina ug nagkuhag mais ug paliya ug gihatag kang Mikinari. “Arigato, arigato!” sulti sa Hapon. Kapila ni magyukbo-yukbo.

“Sayonara,” mao ni ang ulahing pulong sa Hapon una siya gidawat sa kangitngit.

Pupanagsa, naay mga ayroplanong Amerikano nga moagi sa kahanginan sa Malayal ug manghugyaw ang mga tawo. Padayon kuno ang pag-abante sa mga Amerikano ngadto sa uban pang bahin sa Mindanaw. Hapit na gyod mahuman ang gera. Maglinaw na. Ug naghulat na lang si Peryang kon kanus-a na sila mobalik ni Dodong sa Zamboanga. Ug kana mag-agad sab sa desisyon sa iyang mga among Insek. Ambot nganong dili pa sila mobalik sa Zamboanga nga nasakop na man ni sa mga Amerikano. Magtulo ka bulan na mang nagkatibuagsa ang mga Hapon didto. Suwerte kuno ang mga Hapon nga mosurender sa mga Amerikano kay himuong preso, pero kon mahulog sila sa kamot sa mga gerilya, segurado gyong patay. Panimalos ni sa mga gerilya kinsa mipatuman sab og ilang kaugalingong huwes de kutsilyo batok sa mga Hapon.

Usahay mahinumdoman ni Peryang si Mikinari. Buhi pa kaha ni? Unsa kahay iyang kaonon? Asa siya matulog? Asa siya mopasilong kon moulan? Maayo untag nakaabot si Mikinari sa kinapusoran sa kabukiran sa Zamboanga diin makahinabo siyag mga Subano nga walay kasuko sa mga Hapon ug sagopon siya. Apan mas maayo gyod kon mosurender siya sa mga Amerikano. Naay puruhan nga makabalik siya sa ilang nasod ug makauban pagbalik ang iyang pamilya. Kon iya ning mahunahunaan, kalit lang siya batiog dakong kaluoy sa Hapon. Malarawan niya si Mikinari nga mokatawa, ang mga mata niini serhan sa iyang mga tabon-tabon. Dili tuyoon, magtulo ang iyang mga luha. Dili niya mapugngan. Maghuot ang iyang dughan. Ug pugson niyag putol ang kutay sa iyang handurawan. Mangadgye na lang siya sa kaluwasan ni Mikinari.

Wala suginli ni Peryang si Dodong mahitungod kang Mikinari. Sikreto nila to ni Nene. Dili man lisod pasabton si Dodong, pero naglikay na lang siya nga motaas pa ang estorya. Gawas nga moayo-ayo sa layag sa dalamas, nalingaw ni mag-uma. Usahay, mouban-uban ni sa ronda. Ug alang kang Peryang mihugpa na sab ang dakong kalaay sa Malayal. Gikapoy siyag hulat kon kanus-a sila makabalik sa Zamboanga. Kon walay buhaton sa balay, moadto siya sa sentro ug makibalita sa mga bag-ong katikaran sa gera. Ang iyang nasayran, nanaghan ang mga gerilya, morag mga kaupas nga kalit lang nanubo dihang hapit na mahuman ang gera.

Usa ka buntag niana, naukay ang mga molupyo sa mikaylap nga balita nga naa kunoy nadakpan ug napatay nga Hapon sa ronda sa baryo. Kinugos si Nene, nakigpunsisok si Peryang sa tindahan ni Pawa aron maminaw sa mga detalye. Didto, nakita ni Peryang si Dodong nga wala pa kauli sukad kagabii kay miuban sa ronda.

“Bata pa kaayo ang Hapon,” sulti ni Kanor, ang lider sa ronda. “Naay gisuksok nga mais, talong, ug paliya sa iyang bolsa. Nangawat to sa mga gulayan.

Ada, bun-og lagi. Pagkahuman, gipapili siya. Korta kabesa o pong pong? Nakasabot baya. Pong pong, matod niini. Unsay pong pong. Putol ulo,” ug mikatawa si Kanor. Nangatawa usab ang ubang mga tawo.
“Da, mirisi!” nabati ni Peryang sa iyang tupad. Apan siya wala malipay. Gikulbaan siya sa iyang nabati. Miduol siya kang Dodong.

“Modagan diay gihapon ang tawo bisag wala nay ulo, sa?” Sulti ni Kanor. Naa ni gipakitang taas nga kutsilyo. “Bayoneta sa Hapon,” matod niini. “Naa miy nakuhang pitaka. Uy, Dodong. Hain na to?”
Gipagula ni Dodong ang pitaka sa iyang bolsa. Misamot ang kuba sa dughan ni Peryang. Morag kaila siya sa pitaka. Dili! Gihulbot ni Dodong ang sulod sa pitaka. Naay mga kuwartang Hapon. Naay gum-os nga letrato!
Sa paminaw ni Peryang, daw giduslak ang iyang dughan ug gilabnot ang iyang kasingkasing. Kalipongon siya sa iyang gibati. Kalit siyang mitiyabaw ug midagan.

“Dili! Dili!” singgit sa iyang kahiladman samtang mipalayo sa pundok. Nabuta siya sa mga luhang miawas sa iyang mga mata. Midagan siya nga nagkarga kang Nene kinsa nagtiyabaw ug nagpanglugnot kay nabuhian ang gikuptan niining langgam nga papel. Giapas ni Peryang ang langgam nga papel apan tulin kining nagligid-ligid sa balas una kini lamoya sa dagkong mga balod.

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Si Macario D. Tiu nagatudlog literatura sa Ateneo de Davao University. Ikatulong daog niya ni sa unang ganti sa Palanca.

Guillermo grew up in Sogod where he finished his elementary grades at Sogod Elementary School. In 1938, the family settled in Davao, and Guillermo continued his high school studies at Davao City High School. He attended college at the Visayas Institute, now the University of the Visayas where he finished with an Associate in Arts. He eventually became a high school teacher in the Assumption Academy of Peñaplata in Samal Island.

On June 13, 1952 he married Cresencia Gonzales whom he met in Sogod, Leyte. She was an elementary school teacher. Their union produced six children: Dante, Marilyn, Julius, Dennis, Jennifer, and Criselda. He had a previous common-law relationship with with whom he had four children.

Guillermo’s affair with the arts started with Cebuano poetry, the balak. The oldest extant piece of work he wrote is a poem entitled “Pahulay sa Kalinaw,” which was published in Bisaya Magazine in 1946. He also wrote short stories, but he was most prolific in writing plays, eighteen of which have been preserved by the family.

Apparently his father Agustin exerted a strong influence on Guillermo. Agustin was a bandleader who composed songs, some of which are still extant. Guillermo’s brother Hospicio was likewise a composer. Guillermo’s wife Cresencia is also a composer with whom he collaborated in writing songs.

Guillermo wrote pageant scripts, comical skits, morality plays, and linambay (or moro-moro) that served as highlights in fiesta celebrations and other special occasions in Samal. He himself directed his plays. His performers were all amateurs–fellow teachers and close friends who performed without pay, and who made their own costumes.

Guillermo died on March 11, 2003, leaving behind a body of works that spanned six decades. He was a true artist who carried the torch for the great vernacular theater tradition in Davao.

Three of his works were featured in the May 4 issue of Dagmay:
Pahulay sa Kalinaw
Kaanugon Da
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