The Social Cancer: A Complete English Version of Noli Me Tangere
down with the current fruits of many kinds and fragrant flowers. The
little boats had banners on them and each of us could see her name
on one of them."
"And when we were on our way back home?" added another, without
letting her go on. "We found the bamboo bridges destroyed and so we
had to wade the brooks. The rascals!"
"Yes, I know that I chose rather to let the borders of my skirt get
wet than to uncover my feet," said Capitana Tika, "for I knew that
in the thickets on the bank there were eyes watching us."
Some of the girls who heard these reminiscences winked and smiled,
while the others were so occupied with their own conversations that
they took no notice.
One man alone, he who performed the duty of pilot, remained silent and
removed from all the merriment. He was a youth of athletic build and
striking features, with large, sad eyes and compressed lips. His black
hair, long and unkempt, fell over a stout neck. A dark striped shirt
afforded a suggestion through its folds of the powerful muscles that
enabled the vigorous arms to handle as if it were a pen the wide and
unwieldy paddle which' served as a rudder for steering the two bankas.
Maria Clara had more than once caught him looking at her, but on such
occasions he had quickly turned his gaze toward the distant mountain
or the shore. The young woman was moved with pity at his loneliness
and offered him some crackers. The pilot gave her a surprised stare,
which, however, lasted for only a second. He took a cracker and
thanked her briefly in a scarcely audible voice. After this no one
paid any more attention to him. The sallies and merry laughter of the
young folks caused not the slightest movement in the muscles of his
face. Even the merry Sinang did not make him smile when she received
pinchings 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 belonging
to Capitan Tiago. From afar were to be seen some herons perched
in contemplative attitude on the tops of the bamboo posts, while
a number of white birds, which the Tagalogs call _kalaway_, flew
about in different directions, skimming the water with their wings
and filling the air with shrill cries. At the approach of the bankas
the herons took to flight, and Maria Clara followed them with her
gaze as they flew in the direction of the neighboring mountain.
"Do those birds build their nests on the mountain?" she asked the
pilot, not so much from a desire to know as for the purpose of making
him talk.
"Probably they do, señora," he answered, "but no one up to this time
has ever seen their nests."
"Don't they have nests?"
"I suppose they must have them, otherwise they would be very
unfortunate."
Maria Clara did not notice the tone of sadness with which he uttered
these words. "Then--"
"It is said, señora," answered the strange youth, "that the nests of
those birds are invisible and that they have the power of rendering
invisible any one who possesses one of them. Just as the soul can
only be seen in the pure mirror of the eyes, so also in the mirror
of the water alone can their nests be looked upon."
Maria Clara became sad and thoughtful. Meanwhile, they had reached
the 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 getting
ready 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 get
the _sinigang_ ready so that the fish may pass at once from the water
into the soup."
"Kind Aunt Isabel!" exclaimed the ex-theological student. "She doesn't
want the fish to miss the water for an instant!"
Andeng, Maria Clara's foster-sister, in spite of her carefree and happy
face, enjoyed the reputation of being an excellent cook, so she set
about preparing a soup of rice and vegetables, helped and hindered by
some of the young men, eager perhaps to win her favor. The other young
women all busied themselves in cutting up and washing the vegetables.
In order to divert the impatience of those who were waiting to see the
fishes taken alive and wriggling from their prison, the beautiful Iday
got out the harp, for Iday not only played well on that instrument,
but, besides, she had very pretty fingers. The young people applauded
and Maria Clara kissed her, for the harp is the most popular instrument
in that province, and was especially suited to this occasion.
"Sing the hymn about marriage," begged the old women. The men protested
and Victoria, who had a fine voice, complained of hoarseness. The "Hymn
of Marriage" is a beautiful Tagalog chant in which are set forth the
cares and sorrows of the married state, yet not passing over its joys.
They then asked Maria Clara to sing, but she protested that all her
songs were sad ones. This protest, however, was overruled so she held
back no longer. Taking the harp, she played a short prelude and then
sang 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 they
still listened; no one applauded. The young women felt their eyes
fill with tears, and Ibarra seemed to be unpleasantly affected. The
youthful pilot stared motionless into the distance.
Suddenly a thundering roar was heard, such that the women screamed and
covered their ears; it was the ex-theological student blowing with all
the strength of his lungs on the _tambuli_, or carabao horn. Laughter
and cheerfulness returned while tear-dimmed eyes brightened. "Are
you trying to deafen us, you heretic?" cried Aunt Isabel.
"Madam," replied the offender gravely, "I once heard of a poor
trumpeter 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, unable
to resist taking part in the renewed merriment.
"Do you hear that?" went on Albino. "Now I want to see if I can't
have the same luck." So saying, he began to blow with even more force
into the resounding horn, holding it close to the ears of the girls
who looked saddest. As might be expected, a small tumult arose and
the mothers finally reduced him to silence by beating him with their
slippers [71] and pinching him.
"My, oh my!" he complained as he felt of his smarting arms, "what
a distance there is between the Philippines and the banks of the
Rhine! _O tempora! O mores!_ Some are given honors and others
sanbenitos!"
All laughed at this, even the grave Victoria, while Sinang, she of
the 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 its
guests, so the young fisherman climbed up into the pen placed at
the narrower end of the corral, over which might be written for the
fishes, were they able to read and understand Italian, "_Lasciate ogni
speranza voi ch' entrante_," [72] for no fish that gets in there is
ever released except by death. This division of the corral encloses
a circular space so arranged that a man can stand on a platform in
the upper part and draw the fish out with a small net.
"I shouldn't get tired fishing there with a pole and line," commented
Sinang, trembling with pleasant anticipation.
All were now watching and some even began to believe that they saw
the fishes wriggling about in the net and showing their glittering
scales. But when the youth lowered his net not a fish leaped up.
"It must be full," whispered Albino, "for it has been over five days
now since it was visited."
The fisherman drew in his net, but not even a single little fish
adorned it. The water as it fell back in glittering drops reflecting
the sunlight seemed to mock his efforts with a silvery smile. An
exclamation of surprise, displeasure, and disappointment escaped from
the lips of all. Again the youth repeated the operation, but with no
better result.
"You don't understand your business," said Albino, climbing up into
the pen of the corral and taking the net from the youth's hands. "Now
you'll see! Andeng, get the pot ready!"
But apparently Albino did not understand the business either, for
the 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 let
themselves be caught. This net must be torn." But on examination all
the meshes of the net appeared to be intact.
"Give it to me," said Leon, Iday's sweetheart. He assured himself
that the fence was in good condition, examined the net and being
satisfied with it, asked, "Are you sure that it hasn't been visited
for 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 astonishment
was pictured on his countenance. Silently he looked off toward the
mountain and moved the pole about in the water, then without raising
it murmured in a low voice:
"A cayman!"
"A cayman!" repeated everyone, as the word ran from mouth to mouth
in 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 he
dropped 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, the
back of a cayman. Don't you see how the posts shake? He's pushing
against 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 going
to 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 the
platform, where Leon made room for him. With the exception of Maria
Clara, no one had taken any notice of him, but now all admired his
shapely figure. To the great surprise of all and in spite of their
cries, he leaped down into the enclosure.
"Take this knife!" called Crisostomo to him, holding out a wide Toledo
blade, but already the water was splashing up in a thousand jets and
the depths closed mysteriously.
"_Jesús, María, y José_!" exclaimed the old women. "We're going to
have an accident!"
"Don't be uneasy, ladies," said the old boatman, "for if there is
any 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 he
doesn'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 silent
and hardly breathed. Ibarra grasped the handle of the sharp knife
convulsively.
Now the struggle seemed to be at an end and the head of the youth