to bark at an imaginary noise until the shouts of the men quieted him
and he returned to his bed in the warm ashes. Later we learned that
these were the regular social gatherings of the Tinguian, and every
night during the dry season one or more of these bonfires were to be
seen in the village.

After we had attained to the footing of welcome guests in these
circles, we found that a good story-teller was always present,
and, while the men smoked, the women spun, and the dogs slept,
he entertained us with tales of heroes who knew the magic of the
betel-nut, or with stories of spirits and their power over the lives
of men.

The following are some of the tales heard first around the camp fire
of the distant mountain village.



Aponibolinayen and the Sun

_Tinguian_

One day Aponibolinayen and her sister-in-law went out to gather
greens. They walked to the woods to the place where the siksiklat grew,
for the tender leaves of this vine are very good to eat. Suddenly while
searching about in the underbrush, Aponibolinayen cried out with joy,
for she had found the vine, and she started to pick the leaves. Pull
as hard as she would, however, the leaves did not come loose, and all
at once the vine wound itself around her body and began carrying her
upward. [1]