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trance to the pass and Ali-Musjid one stopped to marvel at an old Buddhist tope on the right of the road, where its great dome rises from a rectangular foundation built into the irregularities of the hilltop to supply the necessary base for its gigantic proportions. There it rises a sort of superimposed hill, black and hoary with the passage of centuries. One could have no conception of its huge proportions were it not for the fort that is built on the top of the dome. It looks like a toy castle, bearing about the same relation to the dome that a chimney does to a house, or, more correctly, a house to a hill.
One might well pause to reflect on the
presence of such a
for repairing the road. Far off in the distance rose a tiny little column of dust, and as it approached, I got out of my tonga, withdrew from the road, and took up a position on a boulder a short distance away, where I could see to better advantage. It was the column of British troops withdrawing from the pass after twoyears' occupation. I came specially to witness this, and it was a sight upon which I was later able to reflect when I reached Lundi Kotal and saw their deserted camp and its bleak surroundings.
The column was composed of British officers and soldiers and "Ghurkas," the
The hills grow heavier and higher as one approaches Ali-Musjid, and here and there we passed a solitary figure muffled up to his chin in a blanket. One wondered for a moment what he had to do, but it was only for a moment; for a searching glance from his keen, dark eyes, and about two inches of Martini-Henry just peeping out of the blanket in front of his nose, made inquiry superfluous. Further observation proved that he was not so solitary as he looked, as several of the lumpy, gray rocks on the hillside slowly changed positions, and one stood up. They were some of the tribal levies whose duty it is to guard certain portions of the pass.
The road widens out here, and we saw some slight evidence of life in men driving a dozen or so donkeys laden with stones
sturdy little men from the mountains of Nepal, who are the best hill-fighters of the Indian army. They
come the nearest to being real companions for "Tommy Atkins" of all the Sepoys of India; for they are a jolly lot of little men, who can and do enjoy and share the grog and pipe and sports of Tommy, as if to the manner born, and delight to call themselves the "Royal Irish" or the "42d Highlanders" or any name that happens to be conspicuously to the front at the moment. They filed by in irregular marching order, a form which relaxes the mere military machine, and reveals the man, who although more or less incumbered with arms and military accoutrements, is not burdened with restraint as to the set of his helmet or his buttons and buckles. They must have felt like men getting out of prison, and even the poor fellows in the hospital palanquins, who were carried along in the rear of the dusty column, must have felt grateful for every jolt that took them on and out of that cage of rocks.
They were soon lost in a cloud of dust, and we continued on our way, and shortly came to a halt in front of a tiny, whitewashed shrine or mosque, the famous "Ali-Musjid." It sits on the side of the
road at the entrance to a narrow gorge the precipitous walls of which rise about a thousand feet on each side. Far up on the rocks to the left of the gorge stands the fort of Ali-Musjid, the history of which is written in the blood of Hindu, Buddhist, Mussulman, and Christian. The military road is here cut out of the rock; the caravans take the stony bed of the valley, and usually pass each other at this point, for they always go through the pass from the north and south on the same day, as nothing outside of a block-house or fort is safe when once the curtain of night falls.
After going through this one narrow neck, the pass widens out into a long, bleak valley, which is the part of the pass that is called the Khyber. The hills on both sides are high and jagged, heavy with shadows, and as still as the grave. You need no one to tell you that this is not a spot in which to loiter; you instinctively feel that the sooner you get to the end of it
the better. At the end is Lundi Kotal, our destination, and the camp of the Khyber forces. In shape it is like a great amphitheater. The military camp occupies the arena, and the steep slopes at the back are studded with native fighting-towers, which resemble somewhat a lot of factory-chimneys. They are strongly built of stone and clay, and each is inclosed by a high rectangular wall built of the same material. They are in reality feudal castles, inside of which the people live. One never sees a house or a hut anywhere in the pass, but only these grim-walled towers, and no sign of inhabitants. All are as still as the rocks that surround them, and occasionally a partly demolished tower tells its own silent story-as does a quiet corner in the cold shadow of the mountain walls of this amphitheater not far from the empty camp, where the little white-marble stones and crosses each bears its simple inscription.
From a photograph of the painting by R. D. Mackenzie. By permission of Raphael Tuck & Sous Co., Ltd.
SMALL BRASS CANNON, BRASS CHOW-BOWLS, AND BRASS BUYO-BOXES OF MORO WORKMANSHIP
BY CAPTAIN CHARLES T. BOYD
Tenth Cavalry, United States Army, lately Governor of Cotabato District
T was the custom for the governor at Cotabato to hold annually a junta at the district capital, at which all the headmen, datos and chiefs, not then warring, were invited to appear.
This year, the merchants and citizens of Cotabato decided to have a Moro fair and fiesta at the time of the junta. The citizens were mostly Filipinos, the merchants mostly Chinese. At the meeting for organizing the fair, the Filipinos and the two Spaniards did most of the talking. The Chinese, being asked their opinion, called for the subscription-list and put down their names, the captain Chinaman, old Celestino, heading the list with fifty pesos. Then a central committee was appointed, made of the American governor, the Moro presidente, a Spanish merchant, a Filipino justice of the peace, and the captain Chinaman. From this resulted the "First Moro Agricultural and Industrial Fair."
Loyola, my Moro interpreter, and the Afghan, Sherif Afdal, the high priest, wrote to all the datos to bring in samples of the best of their handiwork, of the best of their produce, and of the best of the forest products. It was explained that these samples were not asked for as a contribution, as was customary with them,
but for exhibition purposes, and that they might afterward remove or sell them as they chose.
Five weeks' notice was little to give them, but it was necessary to have the fair over before the big Mohammedan month-long feast, at which time all good Moros fast during the day and eat and howl all night.
As Cotabato District is about equal in area to that of the States of Delaware and New Hampshire taken together, Sherif Afdal's offer of the use of his Moro messengers was accepted; and because he was a person of great influence among the Moros, he was urged to make known generally throughout the district the advantages to be obtained from attendance at the fair. The sherif was the only one who had seen a fair. While a soldier of Lord Roberts of Kandahar, he had attended fairs in India, which were in some ways not unlike the one we now planned for the Moros.
The first to reply to our invitations was Dato Kali Pandapatan, the fighting priest and chief of the Buldoon Plateau. He informed me that he would come if he was not sick. Others did likewise, and it began to appear that the fair idea was favorably received on all sides.
When the time for the fair approached, Kali Pandapatan, with thirty followers, was also the first to arrive. In fact, he was several days too early. The exhibit he brought consisted of samples of the numerous cereals raised on his plateau, put up in little bamboo phials. The fighting-cocks he started with he lost en route. But he exhibited his own double-edged dragon creese, with the blade inlaid with silver, and his old and highly prized filigree buyo-box. In addition, his women, whom he committed to my care and protection, sent some burnt work of bamboo, one piece being a little stick, with one end split into many parts, to use over a baby's finger in order to protect the nail that it might grow long.
Dato Mastura, Pandapatan's traditional enemy, next sent in his exhibit. He had the collection of the princessa (now the Sultana of Maguindanao) to draw on, and so was able to make a splendid exhibit, which consisted of big, old bronze vases inlaid with silver, brazen urns, and large trays and jars of engraved, inlaid and beaten work, graceful chow-dishes, silver and copper buyo-boxes of antique design, bracelets of gold and silver, of great age and pecu
liar workmanship, handsome creeses, campilans, and barbaric toilet-articles. Dato Dra, Mastura's son, exhibited his own creese, the handle of which is a remarkably large tooth of a crocodile.
Dato Bakee's exhibit was much like Mastura's, but he also displayed fancycolored sarongs, interwoven with silk, beautifully embroidered table-covers and handkerchiefs, very pretty rattan mats, and the golden ear-rings of fine native workmanship which had belonged to his grandmother. Bakee has his own brass foundry, and from his waxen molds come much of the brass ware that is sold in Cotabato; but the brass that he exhibited was old and antique. He would not exhibit what he made to sell, nor sell what he had to exhibit.
Then down came old Piang in his barge of state, propelled by seventy rowers. From the mast he flew his own peculiar flag, yellow, red, and purple, while decorations of all kinds covered the bamboo sides and nipa roof of the huge craft. As he approached, his native cannon fired as a salute, and one of his men was badly burned and fell into the water. A rowing clown at the bow, with humorous
antics, set the time for the rowers, first a long stroke, then three short, quick ones, the small paddles splashing the water high in the joy of the motion. A little Bilan drummer, in scarlet, and a dancing fool kept time with the tom-toms of the women.
Dato Piang brought a large exhibit, but, under pretense of modesty, he hesitated to outshow the others. He is half-Chinese, very wealthy, and very crafty. Not to be outdone in anything, he subscribed one hundred pesos to the fair. He brought a pony, game-cocks, poultry, iguanas, and crocodiles. With him he had forty different kinds of cooked food, which he chose not to exhibit. He brought tobacco, tree cotton, rice, poisonous roots, much brass ware, hunting-knives with deerhorn handles, daggers with gold and silver handles and inlaid blades, working-knives, creeses, and campilans. One creese had a handle inlaid. with American five- and ten-dollar gold pieces. Piang also brought many pieces of crude pottery, the product of his own factory.
Dato Kali Adam, the wise and good, was able to make only a small exhibit, because, as he stated, his people would not work. He could not even get them up at sunrise to pray, though they would get up at any hour to gamble. He asked me to order them to pray, and to give him the power to send them away if they did not obey. One of Kali Adam's exhibits was a valued chow-dish. It was made from the bowl of an ordinary American nickled lamp, with the top cut away to receive a flat cover.
Rajah Muda Mopuk and Dato Ampatuan, Ali's war chief, brought in only the products of their forests.
Of the pagan tribes, the Monobos exhibited nothing but their own weaving of coarse hemp cloth, decorated with beadwork. The Bilan tribe was too wild to do more than send a few representatives. When one of these had seen and felt ice, he asked me to give him a small piece to take back with him to show to his people in the mountains. The Tudugs did not come at all.
The Tiruray tribe, under their mestizo headman, came in with a large exhibit which would have been a credit to any fair at home. They brought hemp, rubber, sugar-cane, tobacco, corn, melons, lemons, sweet potatoes, onions, squash, peanuts,
bananas, native fruits, beeswax, rosin, oil nuts (biau) for lighting, soap-bark, colored mats and baskets, bijuca hammocks, bead belts and baskets, bows and arrows and spears decorated in colors with burnt work, canes, stools, chairs, and tables of hardwood and of fair workmanship.
So numerous were the different exhibits that space in the District Building, where they were displayed, was at a premium. And as the fair progressed, more datos with more produce kept arriving. In fact, Moros and Monobos were still coming to the fair a week after it was over.
The exhibits were finally arranged by tribal wards, and the people were admitted. With their datos, they were encouraged to make comparisons between their own exhibits and those from other parts of the district in order to incite competition and increase production.
Attention was also directed to samples of our own agricultural implements, the uses of which were demonstrated on every fair-day.
Later, at the close of the fair, prizes were awarded by a mixed committee, American, Spanish, Filipino, Moro, and Chinese, the Tirurays securing eleven prizes, Piang seven, Bakee three, Kali Pandapatan two, Mastura two, Balabadan two, Manguda sa Talayan two, Mopuk one, and Enrique one.
Dato Dra had brought in Moros from his father's ward, and with branches of palm-trees had decorated the streets. The water-front now became a line of fluttering bunting, for all the river datos had come down in barges brightly decorated for the occasion. Dato Balabadan, with three of his ten wives, was here, as was Rajah Muda Asad, who was about to lead a party on the long pilgrimage to Mecca. All the country-side turned out, and the interior as well.
The streets of Cotabato became a mass of surging, half-naked brown men and women wearing bright, barbaric colors. Spears and creeses were everywhere in evidence, though the constabulary, themselves Moros, had induced the majority of the people to leave their weapons in their boats.
Each headman, moving about the town, was followed by such a concourse of people that they blocked the streets. Wherever Adriano Acosta went, three hundred