Book: Filipino Popular Tales

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Icelandic (Rittershaus, No. XLII, "Die Kunstreichen Brüder").--Although
this story is very different from any of ours, I call attention to
it here because Dr. Rittershaus says (p. 181) that in it we have,
"in allerdings verwischter Form, das Märchen von 'der Menschen
mit den wunderbaren Eigenschaften,'" and she refers to Benfey's
"Ausland" article. The collector states, however, that the story is
so different from the other Märchen belonging to this family, that no
further parallels can be adduced. As a matter of fact, this Icelandic
story is a combination of the "Skilful Companions" cycle with the
"Child and the Hand" cycle. For this combined Märchen, see Kittredge,
"Arthur and Gorlagon," 222-227.





It might be noted, in passing, that a connection between this type of
the "Rival Brothers" and the "Skilful Companions" cycle is established
through Gonzenbach's Sicilian story of "The Seven Brothers who had
Magic Articles," No. 45. (See Köhler's notes to this tale and also
to No. 74; to Widter-Wolf, No. 6 [Jahrb. f. rom. und eng. lit., VII];
and to V. Tagic, No. 46 [Köhler-Bolte, 438-440].)





I have not attempted to give an exhaustive bibliographical account
of this cycle of the "Rival Brothers," but have merely suggested
points that seem to me particularly significant in its history and
development. So far as our four Filipino examples are concerned, I
think that it is perfectly clear that in their present form, at least,
they have been derived from Europe. There is so much divergence among
them, however, and they are so widely separated from one another
geographically, that it would be fruitless to search for a common
ancestor of the four.

The Ilocano story is the best in outline, and is fairly close to Grimm,
No. 129, though there are only three brothers in the Filipino tale, and
there is no skill contest held by the mother before the youths set out
to rescue the princess. The all-seeing telescope and the clever thief,
however, are found in both. The solution at the end is the same: the
king keeps his daughter, and divides half a kingdom among her rescuers.

The Pangasinan tale has obviously been garbled. The use of two magic
articles with properties so nearly the same, the taking ship by the
three brothers when they had a transportation-mat at their service,
and finally the inhuman decision of the king, [49]--all suggest either
a confusion of stories, or a contamination of old native analogies,
or crude manufacture on the part of some narrator. It may be remarked,
however, that the life-restoring book is analogous to the magic book
in "Vetâlapancavinçati," No. 2, while the repairing of the shattered
ship by means of the magic stones suggests the stitching-together of
the planks in Grimm, No. 129. The setting appears to be modern.

In the first Tagalog story (c) the three men are not brothers. They
are given the magic objects as a reward for kindness. The sentimental
dénouement reads somewhat smug and strained after all three men have
been represented as equally kind-hearted. The shooting-contest with
arrows to decide the question, however, may be reminiscent of the
"1001 Nights" version. For the resuscitating flute in droll stories,
see Bolte-Polívka's notes to Grimm, No. 61 (episode G1). The book of
knowledge suggests the magic book in the Pangasinan version.


TALE 13


The Rich and the Poor.

Narrated by José L. Gomez, a Tagalog from Rizal province.

Once upon a time there lived in the town of Pasig two honest men who
were intimate friends. They were called Mayaman [50] and Mahirap,
[51] because one was much richer than the other.

One pleasant afternoon these two men made up their minds to take a
long walk into the neighboring woods. Here, while they were talking
happily about their respective fortunes, they saw in the distance
a poor wood-cutter, who was very busy cutting and collecting fagots
for sale. This wood-cutter lived in a mean cottage on the outskirts
of a little town on the opposite shore of the lake, and he maintained
his family by selling pieces of wood gathered from this forest.

When they saw the poor man, Mayaman said to his friend, "Now, which
one of us can make that wood-cutter rich?"

"Well, even though I am much poorer than you," said Mahirap, "I can
make him rich with just the few cents I have in my pocket."

They agreed, however, that Mayaman should be the first to try to make
the poor man rich. So Mayaman called out to the wood-cutter, and said,
"Do you want to be rich, my good man?"

"Certainly, master, I should like to be rich, so that my family might
not want anything," said the wood-cutter.

Pointing to his large house in the distance, Mayaman said, "All
right. Come to my house this evening on your way home, and I will
give you four bags of my money. If you don't become rich on them,
come back, and I will give you some more."

The wood-cutter was overjoyed at his good luck, and in the evening
went to Mayaman's house, where he received the money. He placed
the bags in the bottom of his banca, [52] and sailed home. When he
reached his little cottage, he spread out all the gold and silver
money on the floor. He was delighted at possessing such wealth, and
determined first of all to buy household articles with it; but some
dishonest neighbors, soon finding out that the wood-cutter had much
money in the house, secretly stole the bags.

Then the wood-cutter, remembering the rich man's promise, hastily
prepared his banca and sailed across to Pasig. When Mayaman saw the
wood-cutter, he said, "Are you rich now, my good man?"

"O kind master!" said the wood-cutter, "I am not yet rich, for some
one stole my bags of money."

"Well, here are four more bags. See that you take better care of them."

The wood-cutter reached home safely with this new wealth; but
unfortunately it was stolen, too, during the night.

Three more times he went to Mayaman, and every time received four
bags of money; but every time was it stolen from him by his neighbors.

Finally, on his sixth application, Mayaman did not give the wood-cutter
money, but presented him with a beautiful ring. "This ring will
preserve you from harm," he said, "and will give you everything
you ask for. With it you can become the richest man in town; but be
careful not to lose it!"

While the wood-cutter was sailing home that evening, he thought he
would try the ring by asking it for some food. So he said, "Beautiful
ring, give me food! for I am hungry." In an instant twelve different
kinds of food appeared in his banca, and he ate heartily. But after he
had eaten, the wind calmed down: so he said to the ring, "O beautiful
ring! blow my banca very hard, so that I may reach home quickly." He
had no sooner spoken than the wind rose suddenly. The sail and mast of
his little boat were blown away, and the banca itself sank. Forgetting
all about his ring, the unfortunate man had to swim for his life. He
reached the shore safely, but was greatly distressed to find that he
had lost his valuable ring. So he decided to go back to Mayaman and
tell him all about his loss.

The next day he borrowed a banca and sailed to Pasig; but when Mayaman
had heard his story, he said, "My good man, I have nothing more to
give you." Then Mayaman turned to his friend Mahirap, and said, "It
is your turn now, Mahirap. See what you can do for this poor man to
enrich him." Mahirap gave the poor wood-cutter five centavos,--all
he had in his pocket,--and told him to go to the market and buy a
fish with it for his supper.

The wood-cutter was disappointed at receiving so small an amount,
and sailed homeward in a very downcast mood; but when he arrived at
his town, he went straight to the market. As he was walking around the
fish-stalls, he saw a very fine fat fish. So he said to the tendera,
[53] "How much must I pay for that fat fish?"

"Well, five centavos is all I'll ask you for it," said she.

"Oh, I have only five centavos; and if I give them all to you, I
shall have no money to buy rice with. So please let me have the fish
for three!" said the wood-cutter. But the tendera refused to sell the
fish for three centavos; and the wood-cutter was obliged to give all
his money for it, for the fish was so fine and fat that he could not
leave it.

When he went home and opened the fish to clean it, what do you suppose
he found inside? Why, no other thing than the precious ring he had
lost in the lake! He was so rejoiced at getting back his treasure,
that he walked up and down the streets, talking out loud to his ring:--


"Ha, ha, ha, ha!
I have found you now;
You are here, and nowhere else."


When his neighbors who had stolen his bags of money from him heard
these words, they thought that the wood-cutter had found out that they
were the thieves, and was addressing these words to them. They ran up
to him with all the bags of money, and said, "O wood-cutter! pardon
us for our misdoings! Here are all the bags of money that we stole
from you."

With his money and the ring, the wood-cutter soon became the richest
man in his town. He lived happily with his wife the rest of his days,
and left a large heritage to his children.

So Mahirap, with five centavos only, succeeded in making the
wood-cutter rich.


Lucas the Rope-maker.

Narrated by Elisa Cordero, a Tagalog from Pagsanjan, Laguna. Miss
Cordero says that the story is well known and is old.

Luis and Isco were intimate friends. They lived in a country called
Bagdad. Though these two friends had been brought up together in the
same school, their ideas were different. Luis believed that gentleness
and kindness were the second heaven, while Isco's belief was that
wealth was the source of happiness and peace in life.

One day, while they were eating, Isco said, "Don't you believe, my
friend, that a rich man, however cruel he may be, is known everywhere
and has great power over all his people? A poor man may be gentle
and kind, but then he is disdainfully looked upon by his neighbors."

"Oh," answered Luis, "I know it, but to me everybody is the same. I
love them all, and I am not enchanted by anything that glisters."

"My friend," said Isco, "our conversation is becoming serious. Let
us take a walk this afternoon and see how these theories work out in
the lives of men."

That afternoon Luis and Isco went to a town called Cohija. On their
way they saw a rope-maker, Lucas by name, who by his condition showed
his great suffering from poverty. He approached Lucas and gave him a
roll of paper money, saying, "Now, Lucas, take this money and spend
it judiciously."

Lucas was overjoyed: he hardly knew what to do. When he reached home,
he related to his wife Zelima what had happened to him. As has been
said, Lucas was very poor and was a rope-maker. He had six little
children to support; but he had no money with which to feed them, nor
could he get anything from his rope-making. Some days he could not
sell even a yard of rope. When Lucas received the money from Luis,
and had gone home and told his wife, he immediately went out again
to buy food. He had one hundred pesos in paper money. He bought two
pounds of meat, and a roll of cañamo; [54] and as there was some more
money left, he put it in one of the corners of his hat. Unfortunately,
as he was walking home, an eagle was attracted by the smell of the
meat, and began flying about his head. He frightened the bird away;
but it flew so fast that its claws became entangled in his hat,
which was snatched off his head and carried away some distance. When
he searched for the money, it was gone. He could not find it anywhere.

Lucas went home very sad. When his wife learned the cause of his
sorrow, she became very angry. She scolded her husband roundly. As
soon as the family had eaten the meat Lucas bought, they were as poor
as before. They were even pale because of hunger.

One day Luis and Isco decided to visit Lucas and see how he was
getting along. It happened that while they were passing in the same
street as before, they saw Lucas weeping under a mango-tree near his
small house. "What is the matter?" said Luis. "Why are you crying?"

Poor Lucas told them all that had happened to him,--how the money was
lost, and how his wife had scolded him. At first Luis did not believe
the rope-maker's story, and became angry at him. At last, however,
when he perceived that Lucas was telling the truth, he pardoned him
and gave him a thousand pesos.

Lucas returned home with delight, but his wife and children were not in
the house. They were out asking alms from their neighbors. Lucas then
hid the bulk of the money in an empty jar in the corner of the room,
and then went out to buy food for his wife and children. While he was
gone, his wife and children returned. They had not yet eaten anything.

Not long afterward a man came along selling rice. Zelima said to him,
"Sir, can't you give us a little something to appease our hunger? I'll
give you some darak [55] in exchange."

"Oh, yes!" said the man, "I'll give you some rice, but you do not
need to give me anything."

Zelima took the rice gladly; and as she was looking for something
with which to repay the man, she happened to see the empty jar in
which her husband had secretly put his money. She filled the jar with
darak and gave it to the rice-seller.

When Lucas came home, he was very happy. He told his wife about the
money he had hidden. But when he found out that the money was gone,
he was in despair: he did not know what to do. He scolded his wife
for her carelessness. As he could not endure to see the suffering of
his children, he tried to kill himself, but his children prevented
him. At last he concluded to be quiet; for he thought, "If I hurt my
wife, and she becomes sick, I can't stand it. I must take care of her."

Two months passed by, and Luis and Isco again visited their friend
Lucas. While they were walking in the street, Luis found a big piece
of lead. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. When they reached
Lucas's house, they were astonished to see him in a more wretched
condition than before. Luis asked what was the matter. Lucas related
to him all that had occurred; but Luis just said, "Oh, no! you are
fooling us. We will not believe you." Lucas was very sad. He asked
pardon of Luis for his carelessness, and said, "Don't increase the
burden of my suffering by your scolding!"

Now, Luis was by nature gentle and pitiful. He could not endure to
see his friend suffering. So he gave him the lead he had found in
the street, saying, "Now, take care of that! Maybe your wealth will
come from it." Luis accepted the lead unwillingly, for he thought
that Luis was mocking him.

When Lucas went into the house, he threw the lead away in the corner,
and went to sleep. During the night a neighbor knocked at their door,
asking for a piece of lead for her husband. The neighbor said, "My
husband is going fishing early in the morning, and he asked me to buy
him some lead for his line, but I forgot it. I know he will scold me if
I don't have some ready for him." Lucas, who was wakened by the talk,
told his wife to get the lead he had thrown in the corner. When Zelima
found it, she gave it to their neighbor, who went away happy, promising
that she would bring them the first fish her husband should catch.

The next morning Lucas woke very late. The neighbor was already there
with a big fish, and Zelima was happy at having so much to eat. While
she was cleaning the fish, she found a bright stone inside it. As she
did not know of the value of the stone, she gave it to her youngest
son to play with; but when the other children saw it, they quarrelled
with their brother, and tried to take it away from him. Lucas, too,
was ignorant of the fact that the stone was worth anything.

In front of their house lived a rich man named Don Juan. When he
heard the noise of his neighbor's children quarrelling, he sent
his wife to see what was the matter. Don Juan's wife saw the stone,
and wanted to have it very much. She asked Zelima to sell it to her,
but Zelima said that she would wait and ask her husband. The rich
man's wife went home and told her husband about the jewel. He went
to Lucas's house, and offered the rope-maker a thousand pesos for the
stone; but Lucas refused, for now he suspected that it was worth more
than that. At last he sold it for twenty thousand pesos.

Lucas was now a rich man. He bought clothes for his wife and children,
renewed his house, which was falling to pieces, and bought a machine
for making rope. As his business increased, he bought another
machine. But although Lucas was the richest man in town, he was very
kind. His house was open to every comer. He supported crippled persons,
and gave alms to the poor.

When Luis and Isco visited Lucas the last time, they were surprised
and at the same time delighted to see him so rich. Lucas did not know
how to thank them. He gave a banquet in honor of these two men. After
the feast was over, Lucas told his friends every detail of all that
had happened to him, how he had lent the lead, how his wife had found
the stone in the fish, and how a rich man had bought it for twenty
thousand pesos.

Luis was now convinced that Lucas was honest, and had told the truth
on former occasions. Lucas lived in his big house happily and in
peace with his wife and children.


Notes.

These two Tagalog stories are probably derived from the same ultimate
source; the second, "Lucas the Rope-Maker," being very much closer to
the original. That source is the "History of Khevajah Hasan al-Habbal"
in the "Arabian Nights Entertainments" (see Burton's translation,
Supplemental Nights, III : 341-366). There is also a Tagalog literary
version of this story,--"Life of a Rope-maker in the Kingdom of
Bagdad," by Franz Molteni. I have at present no copy of this chap-book;
but the work may safely be dated 1902-05, as those were the years in
which Molteni published. This story follows faithfully the "Arabian
Nights" tale. The two rich friends are Saadi and Saad, and the name
of the rope-maker is Cojia Hasan.

Our second folk-tale (b) seems to stand half way between this literary
version and "The Rich and the Poor,"--not chronologically, to be sure,
but so far as fidelity to the Arabian story is concerned. Although the
events are practically the same in (b) and in Molteni, the proper names
differ throughout. It is possible that (b) derives from an earlier
Tagalog literary version that is no longer extant. (a) is definitely
localized on Laguna de Bay, and the story as a whole seems thoroughly
native. It is likely much older than either of the other two forms.

A Bengal tale somewhat similar to these is to be found in McCulloch's
"Bengali Household Tales," No. III; it is also connected with
the Dr. Knowall cycle (our No. 1). Caballero has a Spanish story
(see Ingram, "Dame Fortune and Don Money"). For a discussion of the
continuously unlucky hero, see Clouston 2, 489-493. In Ralston 1, I95
f., may be found a group of stories dealing with luck. Compare also
Thorpe's "Yule-tide Stories," 460 f., for the North German story of
"The Three Gifts."

For the "ejaculation guess" in No. 13(a), see notes to No. 1 (pp. 7-8).


TALE 14


The King and the Dervish.

Narrated by José M. Hilario of Batangas, Batangas, who heard the
story from his father, a Tagalog.

Once there lived a young and brave king with his gentle and loving
wife. Both had enjoyed an easy, comfortable, and, best of all, happy
life. The king ruled his people well. The queen was a good wife as well
as a good sovereign: she always cheered her husband when he was sad.

One day a dervish came to the palace. He told the king that he
possessed magical power, and straightway they became friends. This
dervish had the power to leave his body and enter that of a dead
animal or person. Now, the king was fond of hunting, and once he
took his new friend with him to shoot deer. After a few hours of
hard chasing, they succeeded in killing a buck. To show his power,
the dervish left his body and entered that of the dead deer. Then he
resumed his former shape. The king was very anxious to be able to do
the same thing; whereupon the dervish gave him minute instructions,
and taught him the necessary charms. Then the king left his body,
and took possession of that of the deer. In an instant the dervish
entered the king's body and went home as the monarch. He gave orders
that a deer with certain marks should be hunted out and killed. The
true king was very unhappy, especially when he saw his own men chasing
him to take his life.

In his wanderings through the forest, he saw a dead nightingale. He
left the deer's body and entered the bird's. Now he was safe, so
he flew to his palace. He sang so sweetly, that the queen ordered
her attendants to catch him. He gladly allowed himself to be caught,
and to be cared for by the queen. Whenever the dervish took the bird
in his hands, the bird pecked him; but the beautiful singer always
showed signs of satisfaction when the queen smoothed his plumage.

Not long after the bird's capture, a dog died in the palace. The
king underwent another change: he left the bird's body and entered
that of the dog. On waking up in the morning, the queen found that
her pet was dead. She began to weep. Unable to see her so sad, the
dervish comforted her, and told her that he would give the bird
life again. Consequently he left the king's body and entered the
bird's. Seeing his chance, the real king left the dog's body and
resumed his original form. He then went at once to the cage and killed
the ungrateful bird, the dervish.

The tender queen protested against the king's act of cruelty; but when
she heard that she had been deceived by the dervish, she died of grief.


The Mysterious Book.

Narrated by Leopoldo Uichanco, a Tagalog from Calamba, La Laguna.

Once upon a time there lived a poor father and a poor son. The father
was very old, and was named Pedro. The son's name was Juan. Although
they were very poor, Juan was afraid of work.

One day the two did not have a single grain of rice in the house
to eat. Juan now realized that he would have to find some work,
or he and his father would starve. So he went to a neighboring town
to seek a master. He at last found one in the person of Don Luzano,
a fine gentleman of fortune.

Don Luzano treated Juan like a son. As time went on, Don Luzano became
so confident in Juan's honesty, that he began to intrust him with the
most precious valuables in the house. One morning Don Luzano went
out hunting. He left Juan alone in the house, as usual. While Juan
was sweeping and cleaning his master's room, he caught sight of a
highly polished box lying behind the post in the corner. Curious to
find out what was inside, he opened the box. There appeared another
box. He opened this box, and another box still was disclosed. One box
appeared after another until Juan came to the seventh. This last one
contained a small triangular-shaped book bound in gold and decorated
with diamonds and other precious gems. Disregarding the consequences
that might follow, Juan picked up the book and opened it. Lo! at once
Juan was carried by the book up into the air. And when he looked back,
whom did he see? No other than Don Luzano pursuing him, with eyes
full of rage. He had an enormous deadly-looking bolo in his hand.

As Don Luzano was a big man, he could fly faster than little Juan. Soon
the boy was but a few yards in front of his antagonist. It should also
be known that the book had the wonderful power of changing anybody
who had laid his hands on it, or who had learned by heart one of
its chapters, into whatever form that person wished to assume. Juan
soon found this fact out. In an instant Juan had disappeared, and in
his place was a little steed galloping as fast as he could down the
street. Again, there was Don Luzano after him in the form of a big
fast mule, with bubbling and foaming mouth, and eyes flashing with
hate. The mule ran so fast, that every minute seemed to be bringing
Juan nearer his grave.

Seeing his danger, Juan changed himself into a bird,--a pretty little
bird. No sooner had he done so than he saw Don Luzano in the form
of a big hawk about to swoop down on him. Then Juan suddenly leaped
into a well he was flying over, and there became a little fish. Don
Luzano assumed the form of a big fish, and kept up the chase; but the
little fish entered a small crack in the wall of the well, where the
big fish could not pursue him farther. So Don Luzano had to give up
and go home in great disappointment.

The well in which Juan found himself belonged to three beautiful
princesses. One morning, while they were looking into the water, they
saw the little fish with its seven-colored scales, moving gracefully
through the water. The eldest of the maidens lowered her bait, but
the fish would not see it. The second sister tried her skill. The
fish bit the bait; but, just as it was being drawn out of the water,
it suddenly released its hold. Now the youngest sister's turn came. The
fish allowed itself to be caught and held in the tender hands of this
beautiful girl. She placed the little fish in a golden basin of water
and took it to her room, where she cared for it very tenderly.

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