THREE MEN AND A COVENANT

Translated From Juan S.P. Hidalgo’s “Tallo a Lallaki Ken Maysa a Kari”

Translated by Joel B. Manuel

 

 

 

            THAT NIGHT, they gathered around a small bonfire which the kept ablaze by feeding it with firewood. The chilly breath of the thick forest surrounding them is drilling into the sinews of Lakay Anib Sanchez. The strong odor of  withered leaves and trees and the earth trying to outsmell the burnt aroma which is leaping from the base of the flame and the surroundings crowned by the charcoal mountains that reach up to the starry heaven is like a giant heart pulsating. This is the same earth, like the beginning, the thought crackled in his forehead. The earth to be inherited by the end generations. He thought of their minuteness in this part of this earth and he felt his great antiquity beneath the roof of the ancient sky.

            But tonight is different: there is a fresh voice over the flame they encircled; voice of a man from the mountains, a warrior, and a sage to the answer  to their presence in this part of the world, an answer which was shaped by a covenant in exchange for saving his life from the wild hogs in the forest which they had hunted. While the old man inhaled his pinadis, his sunken eyes squinted at their visitor who is seated on a large rock; and he weighed the truth in what he said. He was attracted to his eyes, which on the light of the bonfire, sparkled like a star. What he said was loaded with promises like those words had been prepared long beforehand, like an ancient covenant which in that precise moment unfolded again between them, he and the three generations of Sanchez: that there exists a tract of earth promised to them, which they must seek beyond those mountains and forests, which will sustain the succeeding generations that will emerge yet from their loins.

            Upon hearing this, there is a mighty feeling that cut his veins: it is not only the brown race which is seeking that promise, but all of the races of the world- the past, the present and the future.

            The old man trained his eyes to the direction pointed by the warrior: beyond those charcoal mountains, you will find the rich earth which will adopt you and will sustain you, it will not be exhausted for many generations. You should not turn traitor to it, lest it will take vengeance on you and curse you and it will erase you all!

            The eyes of the youth from the mountains flashed: they are like stars! The old man cannot help but look up: yes! Those eyes are far different from his skin which is the color of the night. He inherited the slightly wavy hair of the fathers of his race, he has a cape of small clothe like his son Juan Sanchez and he is as robust as his grandson, Leon Sanchez. Those eyes are tame, calm but they are proofs of dangerous bravery that goes with a musculine body, a sharply pointed spear and a sturdy shield. He gave only one name: Beggak.

            The old man tended the flame while he turned to father and son: to Juan Sanchez, his lone son which he had immersed in hardship and wisdom from the earth passed on by his forefathers, to him which he had left all his earthly possessions-those he inherited and amassed- he is now the pillar of his clan, which is bit by bit consuming the future, and someone like him who is dreaming for the future of Leon Sanchez, his son; Leon Sanchez, his grandson, the one whom he admires because of the attractive formation of his forehead from which an unexpected ray of light seems to emerge from. This Leon Sanchez who is far sturdily built than him when he was a youth, or his father during his youth, and he is too beautiful in his bearing and smiles. That is the reason why he was uprooted by his father Juan Sanchez, from the narrow world of the lowlands encased by mountains and seas; from the ancient earth that brought forth empty rice grains, so that he might guide him into this part of the world where the sun rises, a place under the sun that will bring forth gold. Yes, yes, Leon my grandson! His aged heart hummed: remove your son from here lest the cursed earth will destroy him: release him from here, we will guide him, because the rocky earth which you will give as inheritance would be useless: he will only reap the curse and the hatred!

            And now,  here is a man, starry-eyed, telling them of the existence of that land beyond those mountains and forests, where the sun rises. He will guide their  clan until they will reach the land he promised, then he will depart. The old man listened to the smoothness of that voice, that pledge made stronger by the rustling of the forest and cogonals, it cannot be aged, it cannot end.

            Leon lighted his pinadis: “I want my clan to reach that land.” His voice boomed. “I fear we might be late.”

            The warrior just smiled. “I was born in these parts,” he said. “Years passed me by but no one had been able to explore these. I want that your hands will till this land. You will develop it and it will be passed on to your children and children’s children.

            Lakay Anib caught a sadness that settled in his grandson’s eyes. He understands it: he knoows it, but he is not bothered for even then he was just born, the answer to that sadness had been at hand.

            He tended the fire. The warrior had stood up, he replaced his cape then he picked up his spear and shield: he is as sturdy and black and ancient as the mountains surrounding them, he is like the calm of the thick jungle, and the scattered stars in the heavens are sparkling in his eyes, in the light of the bonfire against the chilly and dark night.

            AS SOON as they had taken their breakfast, Minang  made a knot in a long chord. Leon Sanchez laughed. After hitching the carabo to the covered kariton, he climbed and took his place besides his wife.

            “Once you forget, baket, you will lose count,” he said.

            “Ay, no! I will never forget,” Minang answered. “We will not be able to use this long. All the valleys and forests and mountains would be cleared, but this chord would still be of substantial length.”

            “What happens if those who will be after you loses that?”

            “They’d better take good care of it. They will realize its value. A knot represents a day, many events… With this string, they would be able to trace their history.”

            Juan Sanchez merely laughed. The knotted portion is around two armslength. Each knot would remind them of following the trail, their parting the pan-aw and ledda, their entering the gullies, their following the spine of mountains, their descending the hills and the lips of ravines. They moved without stopping, they are searching for the rich part of this world, far from greed and curse and harm, the earth that would be faithful and ageless.

            They traveled, they examined the earth which they had traversed. Under the sun and starry heavens, on the breast of the dew-laden grasses, the wheels continued turning, the hooves of the water buffaloes tramped the trunks and leaves of plants and cogon and ledda, the trails were blazed which will guide those who will come after them. They traveresed the earth without frustration, like the worldwide searh of man for the finality of his soul; that while he is yet alive, he will not cease to roam until he will find that destiny. There will be such a place as that, Juan Sanchez believes it, for wide is the earth, and while he guided his cart after his son’s carabao, his hope remained deathless like the limitless expanse of the plains spreading before them.

            Beggak rode first with Lakay Anib on top of his water buffalo. They chatted happily and oftentimes their laughter would try to outdo each other. Juan Sanchez, seated beside his wife, just smiled, he is gazing at the broad back of his son whose tracks he is following. His son is more muscular than him, taller, and he carries himself in a manner more grand. His tabungaw gleamed. Juan Sanchez reckons that his son is not directing his water buffalo, it is as if his mind had the will to govern his beast of burden. He has all the discretions about which way they will  go. While he can not do that, he as a father even, for ever since they started the journey, he was wedged between his son and his father, he cannot depart from there, he is just calmly cajoling his water buffalo which is pulling the cart where all their family possessions were stored.

            For three days they traversed the rim of lengthening mountain ranges. At the edge of these, the clear plains and miniature hills opened like doors. The forests thinned and the matted cogonal begins. Juan Sanchez sensed the small gravels engaged by the rim of the cart’s wheels. He shook his head. He glanced at Beggak who is chewing buyo on his side.

            “They say, this was once a portion of the river,” Beggak explained. “It was raised after a strong earthquake. That part of the land sanked and the water flowed there, creating the cataract and the cliff. We will pass by the Hermudez’. They came from the south. They had cleared a large tract of land there.”

            “Were they here a long time?”

            “Quite long. They were already settled there before I was born. The eldest among the Hermudez rules that plain.”

            “Do you reckon they would ever reach the land you promised us? Would they leave us alone? Wouldn’t they  grab the land from us?”

            The balck warrior just smiled. “He would never find that land,” he said. “He would lust for it, but he won’t reach it. I know. By just settling there on the plains he now owns, that would be enough to last him until his breathing ends.”

            Juan Sanchez breathed a sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t like greed to stain the land you will show us,” he said. “Or it will be watered with a man’s blood. I want it to stay pure. I wouldn’t want it to be tyrannized.”

            “You will solely own the land,” Beggak assured him.

            They crossed the cogonal lands: Beggak pointed to the mountain before them where the fleecy clouds go, where the various birds go, where the rivulets and creeks from the mountains flow; there, on the left side of the mountain shaped like a coconut shell, they will find the land they had been seeking for, on a place where the  earth seems to meet the heavens. The cogons bowed under the passing wind and as if  the tips of their blades are a million fingers pointing to the promised land.

            Juan Sanchez winked many times as he spread his gaze on every surrounding of the cogonal; yes, his temple throbbed, many will come after us and they will come to clear these cogon lands; they will build towns, they will spill over to those forests, they will lay those mountains bare, and they will roam again and reach our place. Ah, but we will be secure. By then we will have grown brawny arms against those who will trespass.

            He urged his carabao when they ascended the cogonal. He watch the undulations of the massive muscles of the water buffalo: powerful and  enduring like the mind of man. He did not lay a rope on its back, he just let it, he watched the turning of the wheels on the ever ascending earth, the hardy hoves digging into the ground and the shaking of the horns pointing heavenwards.

            They can see the falls from their vantage on top of the hill, the sun sparkling like silver. Beggak pointed to the wide tracts of land cleared which now nearly reaches the foot of the mountain near them. The Hermudez had really cleared quite a substantial portion. Near the falls, they can see several houses.

            “The Hermudez clan is quite large,” Beggak said. “They own that valley. They want to conquer that mountain, see, they had started clearing it. But they don’t know, that will bring them a curse.”

            “Why?” Minang asked.

            “On clearing that mountain, it will turn back against them and it will raise a flood that will drown them all.”

            “Why don’t you warn them?”

            “They’re too domineering. They look up to themselves as the most powerful creature on the face of the earth. The inhabitants of that forest had abandoned it.” He spat his buyo. “You may tarry there awhile. You can exchange necessities for your journey. Lakay Hermudez would be very happy, he will ask news from you. But I will not present myself to him.”

            They descended the hill. The wind gathered strength and it slapped the side of the cart; Juan Sanchez heard the singing of the plain and the cogons waved: he fancied he can see the palm of the wind travelling on the tips of the cogons, it descended towards their feet, towards the falls… It’s noon and the intense steam of the midday sun rises from the living earth.

            LEON Sanchez never expected he would find so beautiful a maiden on that river. He was skeptical at first, it may be a dream, but when the damsel  turned pale upon seeing him, he knew that she is one made of flesh. The maiden stared at him for a long time and he was prepared to run away when Leon Sanchez alighted from his carabao. The maiden is gathering edible snails from the river.

            Leon Sanchez smiled at the maiden but he did not approach her. He replaced his tabungaw hat on his back until it dangled from his neck. The maiden was scared. She even forgot the bamboo square basket which contained her snails. On her left hand, she is holding some big conical shells.

            “Pray, don’t be afraid of me. I am not a mean man,” Leon said in a soothing voice. “I never knew that there’s someone here. I’m just coming for my carabaos’drink.”

            The maiden did not say a word. Instead, she met the smiling and sunken eyes of Leon. Her paleness vanished away and it was replaced by a pinkish glow on her clean brown skin. She picked up the square bamboo basket and she put her snails into it.

            “I am Leon Sanchez,” Leon said again in a soothing tone. “We are just newcomers here in your place. We came from a place beyond those mountains.” The young man did not betray a wink as he gazed at the being before his eyes: her heart-shaped face rimmed by her long and spreading hair teased by the passing wind, she’s standing so healthy and prime. Leon did not put a restraint to his thirsty carabaos as they plunged into the clear and cold river.

            “Are you the daughter of Apo Hermudez?” Leon again asked. “By what name do they call you?”

            Suddenly, they heard the laughter of women from behind the high boulders upstream. The laughters are heading in their direction..

            “Lumeng!” one of the women called.

            “I’m here!”

            “Are they your companions?” Leon asked.

            The maiden did not answer. Her breast are so healthy, apo! and her thighs specially! muttered Leon.

            The three women hesitated when they saw Leon. No one was able to say a word while they gazed at Leon intently, taking him for an amazing being. They emerged into the bank afterwards and they approached Lumeng who is doing an eye-to-eye with Leon.

            “Lumeng, who is this man?” the eldest queried. He looked at Leon. “Why is he here? Where did he came from?”

            “He’s a guest,” Lumeng answered. She smiled and her eyes twinkled. “His name is Leon Sanchez.”

            Leon smiled back: “We just arrived here, ading,” he said while he looked at each of them. “We came from beyond those mountains, from a faraway town. We came here to settle, too.”

            The fear on the face of the women faded gradually. Leon related that his parents and his grandfather were already in the house of Lakay Hermudez. He acknowledged the gladness of the relatives of these four ladies who received them. The eyes of the ladies gleamed while they listened to the young man. They can never hide their adoration for his tallness and robustness and his grand bearing and sometimes, they would look sideways to Lumeng and smile at her while Leon addresses his question to her. Leon, too, did not conceal his emotions for Lumeng because he learned that she is the only unmarried girl among them.

            Leon watched the back of Lumeng when the four turned away towards the settlement, Leon watched the chaste and grandiose swaying of her walk, until the ladies were hidden by the trees. The young man sighed when he saw his three carabaos enjoying their bath in the river. He walked to the river and he knelt and drank. But even when he is on the dry ground, he can still feel the throbbing of his breast caused by the sweet and dimpled smiles of Lumeng when they bade him goodbye.

            That night, after supper, a small bonfire was lit on the yard of Lakay Hermudez’ stately house. The wine was passed along as lakay Anib and Juan Sanchez related the state of affairs of the town they had left and those companions of them who had decided to settle the plains they had passed by. Lakay Hermudez also related their experiences in clearing the land which they had settled. Theirs is a prosperous life; their granaries are brimming full. They built large houses, making use of select hardwoods from the nearby forests.

            Lakay Hermudez is a stout and tall man. Leon immediately felt his power at lunchtime: power which is twin to influence and possession; dominant and slightly ferocious. But he is not afraid of him. He is equal to this man.

            Onto him the old man’s gaze settled. His eyes measured the power of the young man and a smile fleeted through his lips when he sensed that the young Sanchez is also sizing him up. The old man embraced Lakay Anib first, then Juan Sanchez, he grasped the palms of Minang, and then he squeezed the muscular shoulders of Leon. He said with gladness: “Our dwellings are open for you. If you so desire to stay here, we have still large tracts which you can claim. Here, the land is fertile and your granaries will be forever full. Come to my house so that you can rest well. It had been a long time since we received guests.”

            Leon received the wine in a coconut shell given by Lumeng. The girl is more beautiful now that his clear brown skin and her fresh robustness gleamed on the light of the bonfire. Their eyes caught each other and brief is the smile exchanged during their brief encounter. Leon put down the wine in the coconut shell and he let himself inhale the fragrance brought and carried away by Lumeng. During the entire recounting of stories of the old ones, Leon no longer was able to see the maiden. He knows that he can never sleep that night.

            The southern cross is tilting but Leon can not settle down on his bed under the concave cover of the cart. He saw a man slowly approaching. When he called, Beggak was the one who answered:

            “I know what’s bothering you,” Beggak said. He replaced his cape and he sat near the bonfire.

            Leon’s forehead furrowed. He rose up and emerged from the coever of the cart. He looked into the eyes of Beggak. “You know?” Leon said.

            The dar-skinned man just smiled: his eyes are again strewn with stars on the gleam of the bonfire and Leon cannot help but look up to the heavens: “Yes,” Beggak answered. “No man had ever escaped being disturbed by the beauty of Lumeng, the daughter of LakayHermudez. You had seen her. I know you desire her…”

            Leon looked to the house of Lakay Hermudez where his parents and grandfather slept for the night. The big house is very silent and only the sound of the night creatures are to be heard on the yard. But the earth is alive, it is breathing like the forests and the mountains around.

            “Perhaps, you have been thinking how you could persuade your parents and your grandfather for you to settle here instead…so that you can marry Lumeng,” Beggak again said.

            “You just said so, beggak. I want Lumeng to be the mother of my children.”

            Beggak smiled. Then he shook his head. “If you settle here, your children will inherit the earth similar to the town you left behind. Don’t you see those portions of mountains? I have said that their raping of its forest will become the root of the curse against the Hermudez.” He brought out a betel pepper, nut and lime. “Leon, would you be sure you can marry Lumeng once you stay here?”

            Leon again looked into the eyes of the dark-skinned man. “Why would you say that?”

            “You should know that Lakay Hermudez had already killed a young man because of Lumeng.”

            “Why?”

            “He would never let somebody possess his daughter. A jealous father he is.”

            Leon breathed deep. He did not say a word. He rose up and he glanced again at the large house of Lakay Hermudez. Beggak, chewing all along looked up to the robust  and stout Leon who is standing..

            Beggak spat on the earth. Blood-red, the betel mix shone on the bonfire’s light. “You can get her if you’re dauntless, Leon,” he said. He waited for the youth to sit in front of the bonfire. “There is a nice solution. If she agrees, you elope with her… I know the paths of the forest. If Lumeng agrees, I will guide your flight.”

            Leon held the hands of the warrior. “Give me three days, Beggak,” he said. “I will talk to her nicely.”

            THE SANCHEZES declined the offer of Lakay Hermudez that they will stay with them to help them in settling the wide plains of the cataract. They said that they will look for another place which they can own themselves. When Lakay Hermudez asked the location, Juan Sanchez answered that they do not know yet but they have great hopes of reaching that land the soonest.

            “Once you had reached that land,” Lakay Hermudez said, “send me dispatch and I will give you companions to settle it.”

            The Hermudezes bade leave of the Sanchezes. When Lakay Hermudez approached Leon, he again squeezed the fleshy shoulders of the youth.

            “Young man,” he said “I will await your return.”

            “You can have my word for that, apo,” Leon smiled back.

            Beggak met them when they had moved past the domain of the Hermudezes. At the edge of that mountain before them, they can see another plain, jaded with cogon as expansive as the sea. It was dawn when they embarked, and now, the morning had broken on the creeping fog and the figure of the cart and three water buffaloes painted hues on the dewy ground. The four men looked over to the house of the Hermudez where a wisp of smoke curled heavenward.

            “You just follow that stream,” Beggak said. “Wait for us on the huge cave.”

            “Take care,” Juan Sanchez said.

            “And don’t ever kill a man if you can refrain from it,” Lakay Anib said to Leon while he looked to the bolo shaped like katuray flower hanging on the waste of the youth.

            Leon nodded. He tied his carabao to the end-post of the cart. His parents mounted the cart and his grandfather onto his carabao. A little later, Juan Sanchez urged his carabao while Leon and Beggak returned to the falls to carry Lumeng away on the third day.

            Jaun Sanchez traveled past the wide expanse of plains covered by cogon and talahib and on the second day, they traveled to the ends of a mountain covered with thick forests. They followed the stream until the earth suddenly descended, they made a detour for the cart, then they went back to the land where the falls dropped. Beside the small cataract, they saw the cave which is as large as a cathedral. Here is the place where they will wait upon instruction of Beggak.

            And Leon and Beggak arrived with Lumeng on the fifth day. They were dead-tired. There were some bolo wounds on the bodies and arms of Leon and Beggak but they are not grave. The maiden too was full of scratches. The Sanchezes met the newly-arrivals. Leon recounted that Lumeng’s parents and relatives chased them. Minang wept in exuberant joy when she embraced Lumeng.

            “You left your father because of your love for Leon,” she said.

            “I love Leon, Mother. He has my future. It’s not with my father.”

            Juan Sanchez also touched the broad shoulders of Beggak and he said: “I don’t know how to thank you, Beggak. May God repay you.”

            MINANG showed the knotted string to Lumeng. She related the history of the adjoining knots. Lumeng just listened silently. The mind of Lumeng was opened to the history of the journey of the Sanchezes from the time the spokes of the cart started to roll and the hooves of the carabaos moved from the town of their origin until this morning while they are again traversing the cogonals that will lead them to the promised land.

            “When I will turn intomy second childhood, I will give this to you,” Minang said, smiling. “You will be the inheritor of the Sanchez history and you will retell it to those after you.”

            “Mother,” Lumeng said. “I will treasure it as I treasure my life.”

            While Minang is replacing the string on a leather pouch, Lumeng touched the knots, one after the other: three knots which started the string and will remind them of the early dawn when they started  their travel on the plains, on the town where Leon was born, those were adjoining single knots, then two knots which reminds them of the demise of the members of other families who traveled with them, ambushed by the wild warriors of the forest and mountain which they passed, then three knots singly, then two adjoining knots which reminds them of the death of the members of another companion family, contacting malaria from the nearby forest where they had rested… then solitary knots again… afterwards two adjoining knots which reminds them of the fall of a mother and her children on a cart on the ledge which they had braved… repeated single knots again… then knots by two’s that reminds them of the falling out from the journey of a family to settle a plain… there were five families who started the journey, there were four double knots which stands for the early settling of the four families… two knots stands for Beggak… two more to stand for their reaching the settlement of the Hermudezes… then two knots also when they absconded with Lumeng… and now there are again single knots on the string…

            “It would be easy to trace the past by following the knots, Mother,” Lumeng said. “With this knot, all you have to do is face the place where you came from, and you will know your way back.”

            Smiling, Minang nodded and then she closed the leather pouch. She opened the chest and placed the leather pouch inside.

            “The next generation of Sanchezes will never forget our journey, Balasangko,” Minang said. “And perchance you will have offsprings who will leave the land which we will settle, they will bring a string like this… they will never be lost on their way back to the promised land.”

            “I want to know your history before you begun your journey,” Lumeng said.

            Minang looked back at Lakay Anib. Lakay Anib had been riding with Beggak on the carabao’s back and they are merrily conversing.

            “It’s Father who keeps that string,” Minang answered. “He will tell you after we have taken our lunch.”

            “Is he keeping also a string?”

            Minang smiled. She nodded.

            “How about Leon?”

            “None yet… but I will tell you when you will begin knotting a string that you will inherit… By then, I would know that my return to the Lord would be near!”

            Lumeng also looked back at Lakay Anib on the rear.

            “WE are near,” Beggak said when they had rested for the night. “We will wake up at dawn. I want you to see the promised land as the sun rises.”

            The fog is yet crawling when they started to tramp on the dewy cogonal of the plain. Leon wrapped his better-half with thick blanket and then he embraced her tightly atop the carabao which they rode upon. The wind, pushing them is chilly. From a nearby forest, they can hear the exchanging of crows of wild roosters. Leon kissed  Lumeng’s warm mouth, likening it to a solitary ember of the world where he can drew the warmth of life so that his veins would be active. And only the dark silhouette of the carabao and those mounted on it can be seen by those following them.

            They descended on a hillock, they went under a thin strip of undergrowth; the tall cogonals had disappeared and they are trudging a dewy grassland which grows close to the soil. Daybreak is coming. When they had emerged from the thicket, they sensed that they they are descending on a small trail. The sky had turned rosy and the blueish glow of the night is almost overcast with the morning hue. Beggak alighted from the cart and he led the way. The land is again level. They stopped at a portion where the valley starts to descend, where a thick and live fog curled. Beggak stood on a tall boulder.

            “Look,” Beggak pointed to the spreading plain on their feet which is starting to be uncovered by the early morning. “This is the land I promised you.”

            The fog curled heavenward and all of the east turned russet. On the side of the eastern portion of the plain, three large hills slowly rose: mighty and powerful which overlooked every portion of the plain, two towering hills watching over a smaller hill between them. And from the right temple of this smallest hill, the very bright and cold  sun slowly lifted itself up, it seemed to stop there for a while like a dazzling crown.

            The Sanchezes could not utter a word about the enthralling vista before them.

            “Ala, you may go,” Beggak said again, smiling. “My promise to you had been fulfilled. Own the land, but never turn traitor to it, lest, it will erase your race from the face of the earth.”

            Minang brought out the string and she made three adjacent knots.