The Legend of Tawg and the Curse of Tintinan Island

The Curse of Tintinan Island

The Legend of Tawg and the Curse of Tintinan Island

Chapter 3
The Curse of Tintinan Island

At the age of twenty-three summers Tawg was mated to a beautiful, silky-haired maiden named Tin-tin Ahn, (Tin-tinan) a love-child of a 'singkit' trader and a local basket weaver, and together they build their home on a small island at the edge of the vast marshland not far from the stone jetty where the natives and merchants bow to his command and authority.

Many years came to pass in peace,  the settlement grew into a small baranggay bustling with trade and commerce and Tawg became an old man of countless summers. It was during the time when the 'lansijang's came to roost on the branches of the 'agoho' trees, which were planted by the white men on a small promontory, that a conflicting rumor had spread across the entire island. There were allegation that the white men had came back and were pillaging the neighboring island of Zugbo in retaliation for the brutal slaying of their previous leader called Magellho many, many summers ago. Traders who recently arrived from the north also confirmed that the rumors were true and that the subjugated great Malay prince of Duljo was forced to convert to the white man's faith in the hope that the plundering would eventually stop.

A council was hastily assembled in the longhouses of Bigà-Camayaan by the village elders which were attended by all the chieftains of the island. There was a fierce deliberation of what to do as the natives have never encountered before such an unfounded threat against a superior foe. It was however unanimously decided that there would be no aggressive stance unless otherwise provoked and only when the natives way of life and the settlements are in danger of being invaded or subdued.  Bood, who was recently elevated to the rank as warrior-chief of the Suban-on clan, was livid. He had not yet forgotten the incident that the bearded white men brought when they first met. Tawg on the other hand had a mixed feeling for he knew that it would be useless to face a superior force as the white men. But he was also a Suban-on warrior, a celebrated distinction that bore a pledge of unparalleled loyalty to the clan far greater than death itself.
Twenty-one sacrificial chickens were offered later that day, in a ritual for Bathala's divine providence and guardianship, exactly the same number of summers since the white men first appeared and walked in their midst.

A full moon had passed before a caravel came hurtling down towards the shores of Dungguan and Tawg was not the least surprised. He had already anticipated their arrival before long and even brought his cherished carved statue as he limped towards the jetty. To his dismay and great trepidation, there beforehand stood by the shoreline thirty white men in chain mail armor with their swords and halberds at the ready and, without any provocation, began attacking the hapless natives and the few traders whose only offence was to welcome them eagerly.
Tawg was totally confused and horrified. A small skirmish had already began when he and a few brave young warriors waded through a group of mortified natives as they fleed for their lives.
There was a fierce exchange of clashing swords and spears and for a brief moment Tawg thought that the assault was triumphantly repeled as the raiders regrouped and distanced themselves from the melee. But alas, it was all a ruse and in a measured cadence they all raised their short crossbows and sent forth a volley of deadly iron-tipped arrows to the unwary warriors who tumbled down like sheared cornstalks into the shallow sea. Tawg was hit in the thigh but managed to rally his remaining warriors into a close hand to hand fight, slashing his way through the battlefield with his two cherished 'sundang' and screaming a deafening war cry in a desperate attempt to repulse the aggression. Bood, his old devoted warrior friend, stood bravely by his side.

But it was all in vain.
Along with a few volunteering natives, all of the valiant native warriors lay dead, their blood staining the white sand on the beach where they met their untimely death.
Tawg, who was lying on Tin-tinan's lap near the shore, was mortally wounded in the neck while the fuming Bood remains unscathed yet exhaustibly subdued, his hands and feet tightly bound with a knotted hemp rope.

There was a great pandemonium and panic in the settlement when the  raiders began to burn down the native's thatched huts along the shoreline but, in a bizarre twist of divine intervention, Bathala heard the villagers plight and sent forth a dousing  rain. Nonetheless, thirty houses were burned totally to the ground. The remaining natives were then herded and assembled on the beach, the young and feebly men tied with a rope around their neck, as the rabid marauders pillage their dwellings for any invaluable spoils they could find. It was also said that a few fair maidens of the village were forcefully dragged to the island where Tawg and Tintinan lived and were never to be heard of nor seen again.

Tawg, on the other hand, was brought into the hold of the caravel by the victorious marauders to be treated but sadly succumbed to his injury on the ship's deck where he lay dead. In a hammock made from a torn canvas sheet, he was transported back to the village in a somber procession, lamentably followed by the hysterical Tin-tinan, a large contingent of grieving natives and a squad of raiders who started to ask questions about the mighty warrior who whacked six of their kind to their death. A trader who happened to learn the white man's language came forward to interpret and mournfully retold the remarkable exploits of the great warrior who now in their midst lay dead. From a small satchel made of goatskin that was hanging around Tawg's neck they uncovered a small blackened statue of an old man and an ivory cross dangling from a strand of pearl beads. All of those who witnessed the affair were aghast and baffled, white men and natives alike, for how could a pagan be able to possess these sacred items was beyond unfathomable reason. Thus, with a firm resolve from an old crafty preacher who readily surmised Tawg's saintly deed, he was baptized posthumously in a pompous ceremony before being buried in his grave.
On a small plot by the promontory near the shoreline, the first Christian native of Dungguan was laid to rest, under the shade of the 'agoho' (pine) trees that were planted by the first white men who came to trade then burned their ship when they left.
                                   
Tin-tinan, who was inconsolable for days on end, died afterward in a mysterious circumstance and was buried by the natives near their hut on the small island that bears her name to this day. It was also rumored that she came down to the shore during a blood moon followed by a horde of ghostly apparition of weeping maidens and waded into the placid sea without ever looking back.
She bore no son.

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As for the shipwreck that lay submerged at the bottom of the bay, the natives decided to keep it a secret to this day. For fear that the vengeful Tin-tinan might be lurking still, to haunt those who will disturb the reason for her eternal misery..

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