CHAPTER XXIII
Fishing
The stars still glittered in the sapphire arch of heaven and the birdswere still sleeping among the branches when a merry party, lightedby torches of resin, commonly called _huepes_, made its way throughthe streets toward the lake. There were five girls, who walked alongrapidly with hands clasped or arms encircling one another's waists,followed by some old women and by servants who were carrying gracefullyon their heads baskets of food and dishes. Looking upon the laughingand hopeful countenances of the young women and watching the wind blowabout their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their garments,we might have taken them for goddesses of the night fleeing from theday, did we not know that they were Maria Clara and her four friends,the merry Sinang, the grave Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and thethoughtful Neneng of modest and timid beauty. They were conversingin a lively manner, laughing and pinching one another, whispering inone another's ears and then breaking out into loud laughter.
"You'll wake up the people who are still asleep," Aunt Isabelscolded. "When we were young, we didn't make so much disturbance."
"Neither would you get up so early nor would the old folks have beensuch sleepy-heads," retorted little Sinang.
They were silent for a short time, then tried to talk in low tones,but soon forgot themselves and again filled the street with theirfresh young voices.
"Behave as if you were displeased and don't talk to him," Sinang wasadvising Maria Clara. "Scold him so he won't get into bad habits."
"Don't be so exacting," objected Iday.
"Be exacting! Don't be foolish! He must be made to obey while he'sonly engaged, for after he's your husband he'll do as he pleases,"counseled little Sinang.
"What do you know about that, child?" her cousin Victoria correctedher.
"Sst! Keep quiet, for here they come!"
A group of young men, lighting their way with large bamboo torches,now came up, marching gravely along to the sound of a guitar.
"It sounds like a beggar's guitar," laughed Sinang. When the twoparties met it was the women who maintained a serious and formalattitude, just as if they had never known how to laugh, while on theother hand the men talked and laughed, asking six questions to gethalf an answer.
"Is the lake calm? Do you think we'll have good weather?" askedthe mothers.
"Don't be alarmed, ladies, I know how to swim well," answered a tall,thin, emaciated youth.
"We ought to have heard mass first," sighed Aunt Isabel, claspingher hands.
"There's yet time, ma'am. Albino has been a theological student inhis day and can say it in the boat," remarked another youth, pointingto the tall, thin one who had first spoken. The latter, who had aclownish countenance, threw himself into an attitude of contrition,caricaturing Padre Salvi. Ibarra, though he maintained his seriousdemeanor, also joined in the merriment.
When they arrived at the beach, there involuntarily escaped fromthe women exclamations of surprise and pleasure at the sight oftwo large bankas fastened together and picturesquely adorned withgarlands of flowers, leaves, and ruined cotton of many colors. Littlepaper lanterns hung from an improvised canopy amid flowers andfruits. Comfortable seats with rugs and cushions for the women hadbeen provided by Ibarra. Even the paddles and oars were decorated,while in the more profusely decorated banka were a harp, guitars,accordions, and a trumpet made from a carabao horn. In the other bankafires burned on the clay _kalanes_ for preparing refreshments of tea,coffee, and _salabat_.
"In this boat here the women, and in the other there the men," orderedthe mothers upon embarking. "Keep quiet! Don't move about so or we'llbe upset."
"Cross yourself first," advised Aunt Isabel, setting the example.
"Are we to be here all alone?" asked Sinang with a grimace. "Ourselvesalone?" This question was opportunely answered by a pinch fromher mother.
As the boats moved slowly away from the shore, the light of thelanterns was reflected in the calm waters of the lake, while in theeastern sky the first tints of dawn were just beginning to appear. Adeep silence reigned over the party after the division establishedby the mothers, for the young people seemed to have given themselvesup to meditation.
"Take care," said Albino, the ex-theological student, in a loud toneto another youth. "Keep your foot tight on the plug under you."
"What?"
"It might come out and let the water in. This banka has a lot ofholes in it."
"Oh, we're going to sink!" cried the frightened women.
"Don't be alarmed, ladies," the ex-theological student reassured themto calm their fears. "The banka you are in is safe. It has only fiveholes in it and they aren't large."
"Five holes! _Jesus!_ Do you want to drown us?" exclaimed thehorrified women.
"Not more than five, ladies, and only about so large," theex-theological student assured them, indicating the circle formedwith his index finger and thumb. "Press hard on the plugs so thatthey won't come out."
"_Maria Santisima!_ The water's coming in," cried an old woman whofelt herself already getting wet.
There now arose a small tumult; some screamed, while others thoughtof jumping into the water.
"Press hard on the plugs there!" repeated Albino, pointing towardthe place where the girls were.
"Where, where? _Dios!_ We don't know how! For pity's sake come here,for we don't know how!" begged the frightened women.
It was accordingly necessary for five of the young men to get overinto the other banka to calm the terrified mothers. But by somestrange chance it seemed that there w, as danger by the side of eachof the _dalagas_; all the old ladies together did not have a singledangerous hole near them! Still more strange it was that Ibarra hadto be seated by the side of Maria Clara, Albino beside Victoria,and so on. Quiet was restored among the solicitous mothers but notin the circle of the young people.
As the water was perfectly still, the fish-corrals not far away,and the hour yet early, it was decided to abandon the oars so thatall might partake of some refreshment. Dawn had now come, so thelanterns were extinguished.
"There's nothing to compare with _salabat_, drunk in the morning beforegoing to mass," said Capitana Tika, mother of the merry Sinang. "Drinksome _salabat_ and eat a rice-cake, Albino, and you'll see that evenyou will want to pray."
"That's what I'm doing," answered the youth addressed. "I'm thinkingof confessing myself."
"No," said Sinang, "drink some coffee to bring merry thoughts."
"I will, at once, because I feel a trifle sad."
"Don't do that," advised Aunt Isabel. "Drink some tea and eat a fewcrackers. They say that tea calms one's thoughts."
"I'll also take some tea and crackers," answered the complaisant youth,"since fortunately none of these drinks is Catholicism."
"But, can you--" Victoria began.
"Drink some chocolate also? Well, I guess so, since breakfast is not so far off."
The morning was beautiful. The water began to gleam with the lightreflected from the sky with such clearness that every object stoodrevealed without producing a shadow, a bright, fresh clearnesspermeated with color, such as we get a hint of in some marinepaintings. All were now merry as they breathed in the light breeze thatbegan to arise. Even the mothers, so full of cautions and warnings,now laughed and joked among themselves.
"Do you remember," one old woman was saying to Capitana Tika,"do you remember the time we went to bathe in the river, before wewere married? In little boats made from banana-stalks there drifteddown with the current fruits of many kinds and fragrant flowers. Thelittle boats had banners on them and each of us could see her nameon one of them."
"And when we were on our way back home?" added another, withoutletting her go on. "We found the bamboo bridges destroyed and so wehad to wade the brooks. The rascals!"
"Yes, I know that I chose rather to let the borders of my skirt getwet than to uncover my feet," said Capitana Tika, "for I knew thatin the thickets on the bank there were eyes watching us."
So
me of the girls who heard these reminiscences winked and smiled,while the others were so occupied with their own conversations thatthey took no notice.
One man alone, he who performed the duty of pilot, remained silent andremoved from all the merriment. He was a youth of athletic build andstriking features, with large, sad eyes and compressed lips. His blackhair, long and unkempt, fell over a stout neck. A dark striped shirtafforded a suggestion through its folds of the powerful muscles thatenabled the vigorous arms to handle as if it were a pen the wide andunwieldy paddle which' served as a rudder for steering the two bankas.
Maria Clara had more than once caught him looking at her, but on suchoccasions he had quickly turned his gaze toward the distant mountainor the shore. The young woman was moved with pity at his lonelinessand offered him some crackers. The pilot gave her a surprised stare,which, however, lasted for only a second. He took a cracker andthanked her briefly in a scarcely audible voice. After this no onepaid any more attention to him. The sallies and merry laughter of theyoung folks caused not the slightest movement in the muscles of hisface. Even the merry Sinang did not make him smile when she receivedpinchings that caused her to wrinkle up her eyebrows for an instant,only to return to her former merry mood.
The lunch over, they proceeded on their way toward the fish-corrals,of which there were two situated near each other, both belongingto Capitan Tiago. From afar were to be seen some herons perchedin contemplative attitude on the tops of the bamboo posts, whilea number of white birds, which the Tagalogs call _kalaway_, flewabout in different directions, skimming the water with their wingsand filling the air with shrill cries. At the approach of the bankasthe herons took to flight, and Maria Clara followed them with hergaze as they flew in the direction of the neighboring mountain.
"Do those birds build their nests on the mountain?" she asked thepilot, not so much from a desire to know as for the purpose of makinghim talk.
"Probably they do, senora," he answered, "but no one up to this timehas ever seen their nests."
"Don't they have nests?"
"I suppose they must have them, otherwise they would be veryunfortunate."
Maria Clara did not notice the tone of sadness with which he utteredthese words. "Then--"
"It is said, senora," answered the strange youth, "that the nests ofthose birds are invisible and that they have the power of renderinginvisible any one who possesses one of them. Just as the soul canonly be seen in the pure mirror of the eyes, so also in the mirrorof the water alone can their nests be looked upon."
Maria Clara became sad and thoughtful. Meanwhile, they had reachedthe first fish-corral and an aged boatman tied the craft to a post.
"Wait!" called Aunt Isabel to the son of the fisherman, who was gettingready to climb upon the platform of the corral with his _panalok_,or fish-net fastened on the end of a stout bamboo pole. "We must getthe _sinigang_ ready so that the fish may pass at once from the waterinto the soup."
"Kind Aunt Isabel!" exclaimed the ex-theological student. "She doesn'twant the fish to miss the water for an instant!"
Andeng, Maria Clara's foster-sister, in spite of her carefree and happyface, enjoyed the reputation of being an excellent cook, so she setabout preparing a soup of rice and vegetables, helped and hindered bysome of the young men, eager perhaps to win her favor. The other youngwomen all busied themselves in cutting up and washing the vegetables.
In order to divert the impatience of those who were waiting to see thefishes taken alive and wriggling from their prison, the beautiful Idaygot out the harp, for Iday not only played well on that instrument,but, besides, she had very pretty fingers. The young people applaudedand Maria Clara kissed her, for the harp is the most popular instrumentin that province, and was especially suited to this occasion.
"Sing the hymn about marriage," begged the old women. The men protestedand Victoria, who had a fine voice, complained of hoarseness. The "Hymnof Marriage" is a beautiful Tagalog chant in which are set forth thecares and sorrows of the married state, yet not passing over its joys.
They then asked Maria Clara to sing, but she protested that all hersongs were sad ones. This protest, however, was overruled so she heldback no longer. Taking the harp, she played a short prelude and thensang in a harmonious and vibrating voice full of feeling:
Sweet are the hours in one's native land, Where all is dear the sunbeams bless; Life-giving breezes sweep the strand, And death is soften'd by love's caress.
Warm kisses play on mother's lips, On her fond, tender breast awaking; When round her neck the soft arm slips, And bright eyes smile, all love partaking.
Sweet is death for one's native land, Where all is dear the sunbeams bless; Dead is the breeze that sweeps the strand, Without a mother, home, or love's caress.
The song ceased, the voice died away, the harp became silent, and theystill listened; no one applauded. The young women felt their eyesfill with tears, and Ibarra seemed to be unpleasantly affected. Theyouthful pilot stared motionless into the distance.
Suddenly a thundering roar was heard, such that the women screamed andcovered their ears; it was the ex-theological student blowing with allthe strength of his lungs on the _tambuli_, or carabao horn. Laughterand cheerfulness returned while tear-dimmed eyes brightened. "Areyou trying to deafen us, you heretic?" cried Aunt Isabel.
"Madam," replied the offender gravely, "I once heard of a poortrumpeter on the banks of the Rhine who, by playing on his trumpet,won in marriage a rich and noble maiden."
"That's right, the trumpeter of Sackingen!" exclaimed Ibarra, unableto resist taking part in the renewed merriment.
"Do you hear that?" went on Albino. "Now I want to see if I can'thave the same luck." So saying, he began to blow with even more forceinto the resounding horn, holding it close to the ears of the girlswho looked saddest. As might be expected, a small tumult arose andthe mothers finally reduced him to silence by beating him with theirslippers [71] and pinching him.
"My, oh my!" he complained as he felt of his smarting arms, "whata distance there is between the Philippines and the banks of theRhine! _O tempora! O mores!_ Some are given honors and otherssanbenitos!"
All laughed at this, even the grave Victoria, while Sinang, she ofthe smiling eyes, whispered to Maria Clara, "Happy girl! I, too,would sing if I could!"
Andeng at length announced that the soup was ready to receive itsguests, so the young fisherman climbed up into the pen placed atthe narrower end of the corral, over which might be written for thefishes, were they able to read and understand Italian, "_Lasciate ognisperanza voi ch' entrante_," [72] for no fish that gets in there isever released except by death. This division of the corral enclosesa circular space so arranged that a man can stand on a platform inthe upper part and draw the fish out with a small net.
"I shouldn't get tired fishing there with a pole and line," commentedSinang, trembling with pleasant anticipation.
All were now watching and some even began to believe that they sawthe fishes wriggling about in the net and showing their glitteringscales. But when the youth lowered his net not a fish leaped up.
"It must be full," whispered Albino, "for it has been over five daysnow since it was visited."
The fisherman drew in his net, but not even a single little fishadorned it. The water as it fell back in glittering drops reflectingthe sunlight seemed to mock his efforts with a silvery smile. Anexclamation of surprise, displeasure, and disappointment escaped fromthe lips of all. Again the youth repeated the operation, but with nobetter result.
"You don't understand your business," said Albino, climbing up intothe pen of the corral and taking the net from the youth's hands. "Nowyou'll see! Andeng, get the pot ready!"
But apparently Albino did not understand the business either, forthe net again came up empty. All broke out into laughter at him.
"Don't make so much noise that the fish can hear and so not letthem
selves be caught. This net must be torn." But on examination allthe meshes of the net appeared to be intact.
"Give it to me," said Leon, Iday's sweetheart. He assured himselfthat the fence was in good condition, examined the net and beingsatisfied with it, asked, "Are you sure that it hasn't been visitedfor five days?"
"Very sure! The last time was on the eve of All Saints."
"Well then, either the lake is enchanted or I'll draw up something."
Leon then dropped the pole into the water and instantly astonishmentwas pictured on his countenance. Silently he looked off toward themountain and moved the pole about in the water, then without raisingit murmured in a low voice:
"A cayman!"
"A cayman!" repeated everyone, as the word ran from mouth to mouthin the midst of fright and general surprise.
"What did you say?" they asked him.
"I say that we're caught a cayman," Leon assured them, and as hedropped the heavy end of the pole into the water, he continued:"Don't you hear that sound? That's not sand, but a tough hide, theback of a cayman. Don't you see how the posts shake? He's pushingagainst them even though he is all rolled up. Wait, he's a big one,his body is almost a foot or more across."
"What shall we do?" was the question.
"Catch him!" prompted some one.
"Heavens_!_ And who'll catch him?"
No one offered to go down into the trap, for the water was deep.
"We ought to tie him to our banka and drag him along in triumph,"suggested Sinang. "The idea of his eating the fish that we were goingto eat!"
"I have never yet seen a live cayman," murmured Maria Clara.
The pilot arose, picked up a long rope, and climbed nimbly up on theplatform, where Leon made room for him. With the exception of MariaClara, no one had taken any notice of him, but now all admired hisshapely figure. To the great surprise of all and in spite of theircries, he leaped down into the enclosure.
"Take this knife!" called Crisostomo to him, holding out a wide Toledoblade, but already the water was splashing up in a thousand jets andthe depths closed mysteriously.
"_Jesus, Maria, y Jose_!" exclaimed the old women. "We're going tohave an accident!"
"Don't be uneasy, ladies," said the old boatman, "for if there isany one in the province who can do it, he's the man."
"What's his name?" they asked.
"We call him 'The Pilot' and he's the best I've ever seen, only hedoesn't like the business."
The water became disturbed, then broke into ripples, the fence shook;a struggle seemed to be going on in the depths. All were silentand hardly breathed. Ibarra grasped the handle of the sharp knifeconvulsively.
Now the struggle seemed to be at an end and the head of the youthappeared, to be greeted with joyful cries. The eyes of the old womenfilled with tears. The pilot climbed up with one end of the rope inhis hand and once on the platform began to pull on it. The monstersoon appeared above the water with the rope tied in a double bandaround its neck and underneath its front legs. It was a large one,as Leon had said, speckled, and on its back grew the green moss whichis to the caymans what gray hairs are to men. Roaring like a bull andbeating its tail against or catching hold of the sides of the corral,it opened its huge jaws and showed its long, sharp teeth. The pilotwas hoisting it alone, for no one had thought to assist him.
Once out of the water and resting on the platform, he placed hisfoot upon it and with his strong hands forced its huge jaws togetherand tried to tie its snout with stout knots. With a last effort thereptile arched its body, struck the floor with its powerful tail,and jerking free, hurled itself with one leap into the water outsidethe corral, dragging its captor along with it. A cry of horror brokefrom the lips of all. But like a flash of lightning another body shotinto the water so quickly that there was hardly time to realize thatit was Ibarra. Maria Clara did not swoon only for the reason thatthe Filipino women do not yet know how to do so.
The anxious watchers saw the water become colored and dyed withblood. The young fisherman jumped down with his bolo in his hand andwas followed by his father, but they had scarcely disappeared whenCrisostomo and the pilot reappeared clinging to the dead body of thereptile, which had the whole length of its white belly slit open andthe knife still sticking in its throat.
To describe the joy were impossible, as a dozen arms reached out todrag the young men from the water. The old women were beside themselvesbetween laughter and prayers. Andeng forgot that her _sinigang_had boiled over three times, spilling the soup and putting out thefire. The only one who could say nothing was Maria Clara.
Ibarra was uninjured, while the pilot had only a slight scratch onhis arm. "I owe my life to you," said the latter to Ibarra, who waswrapping himself up in blankets and cloths. The pilot's voice seemedto have a note of sadness in it.
"You are too daring," answered Ibarra. "Don't tempt fate again."
"If you had not come up again--" murmured the still pale and tremblingMaria Clara.
"If I had not come up and you had followed me," replied Ibarra,completing the thought in his own way, "in the bottom of the lake,_I should still have been with my family!_" He had not forgotten thatthere lay the bones of his father.
The old women did not want to visit the other corral but wished toreturn, saying that the day had begun inauspiciously and that many moreaccidents might occur. "All because we didn't hear mass," sighed one.
"But what accident has befallen us, ladies?" asked Ibarra. "The caymanseems to have been the only unlucky one."
"All of which proves," concluded the ex-student of theology, "thatin all its sinful life this unfortunate reptile has never attendedmass--at least, I've never seen him among the many other caymans thatfrequent the church."
So the boats were turned in the direction of the other corral andAndeng had to get her _sinigang_ ready again. The day was now welladvanced, with a fresh breeze blowing. The waves curled up behind thebody of the cayman, raising "mountains of foam whereon the smooth,rich sunlight glitters," as the poet says. The music again resounded;Iday played on the harp, while the men handled the accordions andguitars with greater or less skill. The prize-winner was Albino, whoactually scratched the instruments, getting out of tune and losingthe time every moment or else forgetting it and changing to anothertune entirely different.
The second corral was visited with some misgivings, as many expected tofind there the mate of the dead cayman, but nature is ever a jester,and the nets came up full at each haul. Aunt Isabel superintendedthe sorting of the fish and ordered that some be left in the trap fordecoys. "It's not lucky to empty the corral completely," she concluded.
Then they made their way toward the shore near the forest of old treesthat belonged to Ibarra. There in the shade by the clear waters of thebrook, among the flowers, they ate their breakfast under improvisedcanopies. The space was filled with music while the smoke from thefires curled up in slender wreaths. The water bubbled cheerfully inthe hot dishes as though uttering sounds of consolation, or perchanceof sarcasm and irony, to the dead fishes. The body of the caymanwrithed about, sometimes showing its torn white belly and again itsspeckled greenish back, while man, Nature's favorite, went on hisway undisturbed by what the Brahmins and vegetarians would call somany cases of fratricide.