people simply exceed
belief. But this subject, being worthy of more than passing mention,
will be considered later. The afternoon is wearing on, and we must
get at the two exceptions mentioned some little time ago.

Since these highlanders have but little meat to eat, it is the policy
of the Government, on the occasion of these annual progresses,
to furnish a few carabaos, so that some of the people, at least,
while they are the guests of the Government, may have what they
are fondest of and most infrequently get. And they have been until
recently allowed to slaughter the carabao, according to their own
custom, in competition, catch-as-catch-can, so to say. For the poor
beast, tethered and eating grass all unconscious of its fate, or
else directly led out, is surrounded by a mob of men and boys, each
with his bolo. At a signal given, the crowd rushes on the animal,
and each man hacks and cuts at the part nearest to him, the rule
of the game being that any part cut off must be carried out of the
rush and deposited on the ground before it can become the bearer's
property. Accordingly, no sooner is a piece separated and brought
out than it is pounced on by others who try to take it away; usually
a division takes place, subject to further sub-division, however, if
other claimants are at hand. The competition is not only tremendous,
but dangerous, for in their excitement the contestants frequently
wound one another. The Government (_i.e._, Mr. Worcester), while
at first necessarily allowing this sort of butchering, has steadily
discouraged and gradually reduced it, so that at Kiangan, for example,
the people were told that this was the last time they would ever
be allowed to kill beef in this fashion. It was pointed out to them
that the purpose being to furnish meat, their method of killing was
so uneconomical that the beef was really ruined, and nobody got what
he was really entitled to.

On this occasion, the carabao was tied to a stake in a small swale
and I nerved myself to look on. I saw the first cuts, the poor beast
look up from his grass in astonishment, totter, reel, and fall as blows
rained on him from all sides. The crowd, closing in, mercifully hid the
rest from view; the victim dying game without a sound. In this respect,
as well as in many others, the carabao is a very different animal
from the pig. But, while looking on at the mound of cutting, hacking,
sweating, and struggling butchers, the smell of fresh b