There
once lived in a remote barrio a farmer named Doro
and Ipay, his wife, Ipay was a paratagak
one who knots abaca fiber to be woven into purao
or abaca cloth. She , used to do this far into
the night. One midnight she was occupied, and
there was nobody else awake in the neighborhood.
Doro had gone to sleep right after supper, tired
after a day's plowing. Ipay had already filled a
big kararao or basket woven out of karagomoy
leaves and was about to stop working when an
aswang swooped down on her and carried
her away to the house of the aswangs in the
mountains. When
Doro woke up early the next morning, he looked
for his wife but could not find her. He saw that
the window beside which she had been knotting
abaca when he had gone to sleep was still open,
and the coconut-oil lamp she had used was still
burning, but the kararao full of knotted
abaca was now empty and strand of knotted abaca
streched from it toward the mountains as far as
he could see. He realized that Ipay had been
carried off by an aswang and that she
had held on the end of the knotted abaca as she
was borne away by her captor.
Doro spent the
whole morning sharpening his big bolo, a
minasbad, to a razor's edge. Then after
lunch, he filled his pocket with lemoncito
or kalamansi, buckled on his minasbad
and set out to follow the strand of knotted abaca
from his house to the mountains. He felt sure it
would lead him to the house of the aswangs and
his wife.
It was getting
dark when he reached the aswangs' house.
He hid behind a clump of bushes nearby to watch .
As soon as the moon rose, Doro saw the aswangs
come out of the house and fly away in different
directions. He counted 32 of them. He continued
to watch the house patiently, not sure what to do
next. About two hours before dawn, the aswangs
started coming back, some carrying burdens that
looked suspiciously like human bodies. When Doro
counted 32, he moved closer to the house.
At first there
was a lot of noise inside. When the noise stopped,
Doro assumed that the aswangs had gone
to sleep, exhausted by their devilish nocturnal
expiditions. Noiselessly he crept up the stairs
and entered the house. Near the door he saw a
very old aswang curled up inside a bakol,
a big shallow basket made of rattan. He asked her
where her companions were and she mumbled that
they were all asleep in the next room.
Doro next asked
her what her work was and she said that she was
in charge of watching the house and keeping the
keys to the different rooms. He ordered her to
give the keys to him but she refused. So Doro
unsheathed his minasbad and threatened
to kill her if she did not obey. The old aswang
took a bundle of keys from a hole in the wall
behind her and handed it to him. Doro promptly
cut off her head and smeared the stump of her
neck with lemoncito juice. He knew that
this was the only way of preventing another aswang
from replacing the head on the body and licking
the wound, thus making the old aswang
whole and alive again.
Using the keys
he had obtained, Doro opened the door to the next
room. There he saw the aswangs neatly lined up
sound asleep, then with his minasbad,
which was so sharp he had merely to slide his
blade across the neck of the sleeping aswangs,
he killed all of them. Afterward he carefully
smeared all the wounds with lemoncito
juice.
Doro next opened
the other doors and freed the people that the aswangs
had carried away. Among them was his wife. Some
of the rooms contained money and jewelry. He
gathered them all into a sack to carry home. The
people Doro had rescued were very grateful to him.
He gave each of them some money and told them
that they would all go home together. Before
starting home, however, Doro set a fire to the
house of the aswangs.
Doro and Ipay
became rich and prosperous. And when the women in
the barrio learned what had happened to Ipay,
they made sure never to knot abaca by an open
window at midnight.
»
Aswang:
Introduction
»
The Aswang and the
Paratagak
» Iblas
and His Aswang Neighbor
» Aswang,
Genuine and Bogus
» Uncle
Kiyo and the Aswang
» The
Aswang Bride
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