"Looking back on this incident, I am sure that I was in little, I
believe _no_ danger, but must give credit to my Ifugao boy who attended
me in having the wisest head in the party. This boy immediately thought
of my horse, which was picketed near, and ran to it, taking with him
one or two responsible Kiangan men to help him watch and defend it. Had
he not done so, some meat-hungry, hot-headed Ifugao might easily have
stuck a bolo in his side during the scramble and its confusion; and
immediately some five hundred or more Ifugaos would have been right
on top of the carcase, hand-hacking at it with their long war-knives,
and it would probably have been impossible ever to find out who gave
the first thrust.

"The old men who had performed the feast, after things had quieted
down somewhat, began scolding and cursing those who had run away with
the meat. Finally they managed to prevail upon the meat-snatchers
to bring back three small pieces, about the size of their hands,
from which I concluded that Ifugao is a language which is admirably
adapted to making people ashamed of themselves. For I knew how hungry
for meat these Ifugao become.

"Three old men stuck their spears in a piece of meat and began a long
story whose text was the confusion of enemies in some past time. At
the conclusion of each story, they said: 'Not there, but here; not
then, but now.' By a sort of simple witchcraft, the mere telling of
these stories is believed to secure a like confusion and destruction
of the enemies of the present. When this ceremony had been completed,
each old man raised his spear quickly and so was enabled to secure
for himself the meat impaled. In one case, one of the old men just
missed ripping open the abdomen of the man who stood in front.