A MANOBO FOLKTALE

A long time ago, only the Sun rode the sky. His wife, the Moon, stayed at home and tended the children and their farm. The Moon loved their two children and went about her tasks happily-fetching water, gathering gabi leaves, or digging camotes for supper. Once cloudy day when the Sun was home, the Moon had to go to the river for water. She crooned the children to sleep and called to her husband, Dear Husband, Im going to fetch water. Watch over the children, but do not go near them because you know what will happen if you do. And after this warning, she left. The Sun looked lovingly at his children. He had never before been able to really know them or even get near them. Overcome with love and affection, he kissed them. To his horror, they shrivelled up before his eyes and crumbled to ashes! His anguish was great. He moaned and cried. Suddenly he remembered what his wife had told him-not to touch the children. Not knowing what to do, he hid in the forest. Soon after this the Moon returned. A water jar was balanced on her head and she carried a bundle of freshly cut gabi leaves in her arms. Laying these down, jar and leaves, she turned to look for her children. Wild was her grief to find only ashes where her lovely brown babies had once been. Her screams and lamentations reached her husband in the forest and, his pity overcoming his fear, he went home. However, as soon as the Moon saw him, her wailings become louder. My husband, why did you do it? Did I not tell you never to touch or even draw near our children? Why did you disobey me? I couldnt help kissing them, O wife; they looked so sweet. I have never seen anything so sweet before. Forgive me, O Moon! Forgive me, he begged her. But the Moon would not be comforted. Her reproaches increased in intensity. In the end the Sun got angry. Mang-gad! he shouted. Did you say that I disobeyed you? How dare you think that you are superior to me-that you can order me what to do. Mang-gad! You are my property. I can do what I want with you or with my children. Binotong!Slave! How dare you say that I disobeyed you! Aj! she moaned. I am nothing! Nothing at all! Then my children are nothing too! And with the one defiant sweep of her arm, she scattered their ashes to the four winds. Horrified and enraged, the Sun seized two gabi leaves, threw them in his wifes face. and dashed out of the house. When he turned very late that night, his ill temper was gone. He regretted having shouted at his wife, He found the house dark and empty. His wife had fled, but a glimmer of pinpoints of light in the distance told him where she was, for the lights were, he knew, his children following the their mother in her flight. So started the endless cycle of the Sun chasing the Moon and the Moon fleeing from the Sun. The Moon is forever with her children, the tiny bits of light we call the stars. Now and then shooting start breaks across the path of the Moon. It is nothing more than an attempt from her husband to make her and their two children return to him. But the Moon speeds away the faster, sometimes leaving the sky altogether, with only her star-babies there. This happens when the marks of the gabi leaves on the Moons face well and she remembers the pain and humiliation of her husbands anger. He had thrown the taro leaves in her face and called her mang-gad (property) and binotong (slave).
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A TALE OF MARINDUQUE Retold by Alfonso P. Santos

In a small island kingdom there once lived a very beautiful princess. She was nicknamed Maring. Her favourite haunt was the top of a very tall mountain, Mount Malindig. She was very fond hunting wild animals, a diversion which was much against her fathers wish. One day she espied a pretty white deer. It ran so swiftly that it look her a long time to catch up with it. She had the game already at bay when the owner came a long looking for it. The stranger was man of princely bearing and fine manners. He introduced himself as Duque and offered the deer to her as a token of their first meeting. Maring could not resist his gallant gesture. She could not help admiring the stranger, who fell in love with her at first sight. Since that day they often met in the forest. The beauty of Maring was known far and wide. Innumerable suitors came to woo her, but she turned a deaf ear to them all, for she had set her heart on the modest Duque. Not knowing about her secret love affair, her royal father announced that her hand would be given to the one who would win a ship race. So the most persistent suitors, three wealthy kings, fitted out vessels for the contest. Duque could not participate. He was not rich enough to equip a vessel. Meanwhile, Maring was very unhappy. She prayed to the gods for help. Bathala heard her prayers. On the appointed day. the sky grew suddenly dark. The sea seethed turbenly and the winds blew furiously, but the contest could not be put off for another day. The three kings set forth bravely on their ships. Before they were halfway to the goal, one of them hit a rock and soon vanished from sight with his ship. The second vessel was able to move on a little farther and then it was also devoured by the angry sea. The last ship met the same fate. The king and the spectators grieved over the fate of the three royal suitors. Only Maring did not feel grieved at the outcome of the race. When the sea calmed down, everyone was surprised to see three islands at the places where the ships had sunk. They were named Tres Reyes, or Three Kings, after the unlucky trio. The father of Maring did not wish to sacrifice more lives after that disaster. He gave his daughter freedom to choose her husband. So she confessed to him her secret love. The king consented to the marriage. Seven days of feasting and merrymaking followed. To mark the happy union of the two young people, the island kingdom was named Marinduque, after Maring and Duque.