CATTLE RUSTLING AND THE VIGILANTES
My first terrifying experience happened in Upper Balagatasa, when I was still five years old. It had something to do with our carabao (water buffalo). In those days, this “beast of burden” was our only means of transportation in the village. We were home-bound from the weekly market day at Lower Balagatasa, astride on top of the water buffalo. It was still early in the afternoon so the carabao was allowed to nibble the succulent grasses and young tops of shrubs that took its fancy as it trotted on the hoof-puckered and weathered trail. My father was whistling to pass time and I was busy wriggling my buttocks to make myself comfortable on top of the rough and shifting back of the beast. Suddenly, two strangers materialized and accosted us, one brandishing a paliuntud, a homemade shotgun. They were after the carabao and my father, discerning it was foolhardy to offer resistance, jumped off from the carabao and gesticulated to me to follow suit. I sprinted away as soon as my bare feet touched the ground and continued running until I was short of breath. I must have fled far from the scene since my father had a hard time looking for me afterwards. We arrived home that day without the work animal entrusted to my father’s care by Mr. Nuñez, his landlord.
“Susmariosep” my mother exclaimed when my father told her what happened. She then mumbled thanks to Jesus, Mary and Joseph for our deliverance from harm. My patron saint, San Vicente Ferrer, was also reverently acknowledged. It was my only encounter with cattle rustlers.
Cattle rustling by people from the uplands were rampant in those days. The lowlanders, particularly the landowners, had prepared for its eventuality. They did it first through diplomacy by employing intermediaries. An intermediary was a person who can speak the Maranao dialect and was familiar with the upland villages where the stolen animals were brought and sold. Theft of carabao usually occurred when a wedding was to be solemnized and celebrated in these Muslim villages, so the stolen livestock usually ended up as dowries and slaughtered for the wedding feasts that can last for several days. When diplomacy failed, the landowners took the law into their hands and mobilized their bands of vigilantes to pursue the cattle rustlers. In many occasions, these vigilantes were successful in their missions and returned with the stolen animals.
I was privy to one occasion when the vigilantes brought with them a rather grim trophy, the head of the cattle rustler. We had transferred to our second house near the Maigo River when this happened. My parents forbid me to see the severed head but I saw the picture of the rustler’s head placed on top of an empty cooking oil tin can. One ear was missing so it must be true that one of the vigilantes had eaten it as an extreme display of bravado. Standing in the background were few of the more daring vigilantes, their faces reddened by alcohol from drinking bahal. The half-fermented coconut toddy was the common local beverage on those days. Hard drinkers preferred it over the fresh palm wine.
