pen to the sky, except where
the house is built directly over it.

It is astonishing that these people should not have evolved a better
house, seeing that the Ifugaos have done it, and the Kalinga houses,
which we were to see in a day or two, are really superior affairs.

Passing by a certain house, Father Clapp stopped and said, "Here is
where Pitapit was born," and stood expectant. Strong and I looked
furtively at each other; it was evident that we were supposed to
know who Pitapit was. But as we did not, the question was put:
"Who is Pitapit?" Father Clapp, gazing pityingly upon us, as though
we had asked who George Washington was, then enlightened us. Pitapit
is a Bontok boy of great natural qualities, so great, indeed, that he
was sent to the States to a church school, where he had recently won
a Greek prize in competition! Father Clapp was naturally very proud
of this, as he well might be. The fact of the matter is that Igorot
children are undeniably bright; given the chance, they will accomplish
something. And I repeat what I have said before: we are trying to
give them and their people a chance, the only one they have ever had.

We remarked, as we walked about this morning, that although Father
Clapp seemed to know some of the people we met and would speak to them,
they never returned his greeting. None of these highlanders have any
words or custom of salutation. In the Ifugao country, however, they
shake hands, and would frequently smile when on meeting them we would
say, "_Mapud!_"--_i.e._, "Good!"--the nearest thing to a greeting
that our very scanty stock of Ifugao words afforded. But the Igorot
never shook hands with us nor offered to: they have no smile for the
stranger, though they seem good-humored enough among themselves.

Poor as we found the village on the material side, it has nevertheless
some interesting institutional features. For example, it has sixteen
wards, or _atos_, and each _ato_ has its meeting-place, consisting
of a circle of small boulders, where the men assemble to discuss
matters affecting the _ato_, such as war and peace; for the _ato_
is the political unit, and not the village as a whole. A remarkable
thing is the family life, or lack of it rather: as soon as children
are three or four years old, they leave the roof under which they
were born and go to sleep, the boys in a sort of dormitory called
_pabajunan_, occupied as well by the unmarried men, [37] and the girls
in one calle