|
The Pearl Of Allah
By WILBURN DOWELL COBB
As published in the Natural History magazine, issue date Nov. 1939
My companions and I were in a little fishing village in the
outer reaches of the Philippine Islands when news reached us of the discovery of
a giant pearl, which today is the largest specimen in the world.
We had pitched camp on the seventh day of May, 1934 and that
night after supper we stretched out on our cots in anticipation of a good
night's rest. I was practically asleep when suddenly pandemonium broke
loose in the primitive huts of the Dyak tribe in whose fishing territory we had
undertaken archaeological excavations. It seemed that every native in the
village was screaming at the top of his voice, singing the quaint funeral dirge
of the Dyak people. I shoved my automatic in my pocket and went out to
investigate.
In the nearest shack I found "Capitan" Popong, an old Dyak
who had been my guide on an investigation in the same region two years ago.
It was I who had given him the title of "Capitan". and today no Dyak would
ever dare address him by any name other than this. We sat on the floor,
and I asked him to tell me the reasons for the wailings and the dirge.
At first he was reluctant, but eventually I learned that his
son, who was chief of the tribe, had brought his hungry people only a few days
ago to fish in these waters. Bogtong, the young chief, had immediately
organized the best divers of the tribe in an expedition to collect conch shells,
which they would trade for the fishing implements they so badly needed.
Toward noon, the old man recounted, Bogtong had realized that
he had missed Etem, one of his assistants, on the last three dives. All
the men were alarmed. Suspecting a giant octopus, they unsheathed their
knives and, as one, dove down in search of their missing comrade.
On the fourth dive they found Etem already dead. In his
search for conch shells, he had failed to see the giant Tridacna clam which was
partly hidden by coral rocks, its huge jaws held open ready to clamp shut with
the strength of a bear trap. Etem accidentally got his hand between the
shells, which snapped shut, and thus he met his death. With the aid of
ropes, the men hoisted their dead comrade and his deep-sea murderer into one of
the canoes.
In this locality a death must be fully and satisfactorily
explained to the authorities. Bogtong knew there was but one thing to do
and that was to take the boy just as they had found him with his left hand still
in the grip of the giant shell to Panglima Pisi, the Mohammedan chief, sho acts
as the local notary public. There they would ask their old friend to sign
an affidavit describing the death of the boy and absolving his six companions
from any blame.
After three hours of hard paddling they reached the mouth of
Boligay Creek, where they turned and headed for the little bamboo bridge just
below the road leading to the Panglima's house. After being welcomed with
the usual formal greetings, Bogtong explained his mission to the old man.
Offering a cigar to Bogtong and lighting one himself, the Panglima asked to be
shown the body.
The scene that greeted the old man's eyes at the creek
reminded him sadly of his younger days, when he was the owner of the largest
pearl fishing fleet in the Sulu Sea. He told the young men of two similar
accidents that had happened in his own fleet and how he had hoped to be spared
the sight of another such disaster. Motioning for Bogtong to follow, he
led the way to the house.
When the old Panglima had finished writing, he folded one of
the copies and handed it to Bogtong. Bogtong thanked the old man and asked
him if he might leave a conoe-load of the conch shells for the service rendered.
Smiling one of his rare smiles, the old man said, "You may leave me the conch
shells if you wish, but please give me the giant clam that caused the death of
your companion. I would like to keep it here on my porch to remind me of
my pearl fishing days."
At this point in his tale, Capitan Popong fell silent for a
moment, then continued:
"About two hours ago as they returned here in their canoes,
they saw the light of a strange lamp in the center of the village. Bogtong
motioned for silence. He thought it might be that the tax collectors had
come on their annual rounds. Leaving his men with their conch-filled
canoes hidden in the shadows along the shore, he crept close to the strange
tent. then he gave a sigh of relief, for he recognized your features, my
friend. He was one of the men who helped you pull your motor launch free
from the sand bar when you were stuck on the Iwahig river two years ago.
Dyak dirge
"Bogtong ran back for his men, sent one of
them for me, and I joined the boys at their task. Five of them gently
lifted the dead Etem in their arms, and with Bogtong holding a torch and leading
the way, they laid the body in Bogtang's shack. Then my son, after telling
me the story of their sad trip, picked up the old buffalo horn and blew on it
the long-drawn-out death call of our tribe."
Startled out of their sleep, the cabins had come to life one
by one. Frightened, anguished faces filled the door of the hut where the
body lay. At the sight of the drowned boy, the whole tribe broke out into
the mournful prayer and wailing for the drowned.
"This, my friend, is the bedlam that awakened you. We
will keep praying until sunrise, and then again until sunset, and again--for
three nights. Because if we do not, the devils of the sea will keep Etem's
soul forever."
Saddened by the tale, I watched them bury Etem the next
morning under the shade of a coconut tree. His grave was fenced in with
strong bamboo stakes to keep the wild boar and other scavengers from disturbing
it. After harvesting the rice here in the lowlands, the tribe would come
back for the remains of Etem, which would then be carried back to their mountain
home and there buried properly.
I was very anxious to see the giant clam that had killed a
man, so after the three nights of praying and wailing I asked Bogtong to guide
me to Panglima Pisi's home at Boligay. And that afternoon, after leaving
Capitan Popong in charge of my party, Bogtong and I set out for Boligay.
The sacred pearl
Nearing the Panglima's house, we were greeted by sounds that
seemed to be the climax of some Mohammedan celebration. Mingled with the
beating of gongs could be heard the singing of women, while the men, who must
have lost their voices because of incessant shouting, were doing the spear dance
to the rhythm of the brass gongs. I knew it would be dangerous for a
Christian to venture forth while such a celebration was in progress, so I sent
the young chief ahead to investigate. He was gone for about two hours.
It was late in the evening when he returned with the story of the celebration.
It appeared that when they left the giant clam on the
Panglima's porch a few days before, a strange incident had occurred. As
the aged Mohammedan chief watched his men remove the meat from the shell, he
suddenly saw an enormous pearl. Seizing it in his hands, he examined the
surface and discerned the image of a turbaned face, formed by nature on one of
the sides. In this image the Panglima was startled to discover a
resemblance to Mohammed. Then as his excited servants stood in awe, the
old man prostrated himself before the pearl and began to pray. It was this
act of religious devotion that incited the frenzied celebration throughout the
whole tribe which we were now witnessing.
Having at first merely expected to see a clam that had killed
a man, you may imagine my eagerness to glimpse the pearl that it contained, with
the image of a turbaned face. I never dreamed how big it might be.
But Bogtong restrained me from going into the midst of the celebration. He
suggested that I let him keep an eye on the settlement, and he would let me know
when it would be safe to approach the Panglima. I agreed to this and
we returned to our camp.
About two weeks later Bogtong presented himself in my tent.
He was ready to take me to Boligay, the celebrations having subsided and the
Mohammedans having returned to their usual daily chores. Upon arriving at
the Panglima's house, I found preparations had been made for me to pay him a
prolonged visit. The etiquette of the Mohammedan people would prevent me
from talking business until four days of festive hospitality had passed.
It was in the early afternoon of the fourth day of my visit,
while having tea with the family, that I asked to be shown the pearl. The
Panglima called an attendant, who came out and laid the pearl before us on the
table. When I first saw the pearl I could hardly believe my eyes.
There on the table in front of us lay the largest pearl ever beheld by human
eyes. The gigantic gem weighed fourteen pounds, one ounce. It was
nine and a half inches long and five and a half inches in diameter, and glowed
with a highly reflective, satiny sheen. Two more attendants entered,
carrying the half of the shell in which the pearl was found, and the old
Panglima laid the pearl in its former bed. It seemed as though I were
looking at a pearl that might have been taken from the pages of the Arabian
Nights.
I asked my host to name his price, but was kindly but firmly
told that the pearl was not for sale. Smilingly, the Panglima said, "It
would be a sacrilege for me to part with this pearl. A pearl with the
image of Mohammed, the Prophet of Allah, is earned by devotion, by sacrifice,
not bought with money. I may not be a millionaire but I defy the richest
man in the world today to show me a similar pearl. Please excuse my words,
my friend, but the satisfaction of owning the largest of all pearls is to me
worth more than mere money."
I was disappointed at not being able to purchase the pearl.
Still, I could not help but admire the old Panglima's logic. We bade
farewell then and soon after I prepared for my return to Manila.
Two years passed. I had long been away from the Panglima's
land. The giant pearl had not passed from my mind, but I remembered it now
only as a fabulous experience I had once had which survived in my tales to
friends. Sometimes I was piqued because I could see that my audience did
not believe the gem to be as beautiful, as large, and as mysterious as I tried
to depict it, and then the old longing to possess it came over me.
But on this April day in 1936, I was not thinking of the pearl.
I was celebrating my birthday with my brothers in our home in Manila, wondering
where I would spend my vacation during the hot season, when a postman arrived
with a letter. It was from Bogtong--no doubt written for him by some
village school teacher--telling me of the discovery of an ancient burial ground
located just south of Panglima Pisi's residence. This seemed the answer to
my vacation plans and I prepared to leave for Boligay Creek immediately.
I had hardly arrived and was in the midst of preparing to start
my digging, when Bogtong came to visit me. He said in a very excited
manner that Pula, the Panglima's son, was mortally stricken with malaria and
that he wished my help. Leaving the party in charge of my head boy and
giving Bogtong my first-aid kit to carry, we hurried to the old Panglima's
residence.
We were met on the porch by the Panglima himself, who with tears
in his eyes led us into the room where the boy lay. Looking at Pula, I
hardly recognized him.. He lay in what I thought to be an unconscious state, but
he was aware of our entry, for opening sunken staring eyes, his face a ghastly
greenish yellow, he said, "Mr. Cobb, help, please help me. I am dying!"
I felt the boy's forehead and pulse. He was burning with a
severe malarial fever, a type very often mistaken for the dreaded blackwater
fever. Leaving Bogtong with the sick boy, I asked the Panglima to step
outside with me.
Confronting the heart-broken father, I gave him the bare facts
of the case, and told him that if they were to continue the old quinine
treatment, the boy would be dead inside of a week. There was only one
remedy known to science that would cure such an advanced case of the disease,
and that was the drug atabrine.
"But where will you get the atabrine?" cried the old man.
"My son would be dead before we could have it sent from Manila." I
relieved him with the information that I had a large quantity of the compound
with me. Hearing this, the Panglima knelt and pleaded with me, saying that
he would give me anything he owned if only I would help his beloved son.
Assisting him to rise from his knees, I promised aid on the
condition that I would be given a free hand and would not be interfered with by
any of his local medicine men. With a smile of hope on his face, the old
man agreed to my terms and went into the sick boy's room.
An attendant showed me into my quarters, I told him that Bogtong
would be my assistant and asked him to bring the young chief to me. As he
left my room, I realized into what a predicament I had plunged myself. If
pula were to die after I had so much as touched him with the tips of my fingers,
my death was assured. These Mohammedans would kill me, thinking, of
course, that I had been responsible for his death. However, I had already
given my word, so it was too late to change it. I decided to go ahead with
the treatment, hoping the boy was not so far gone as to be beyond help.
About seven that evening the periodic fever of my patient had
subsided a little, but he was still too weak to take atabrine by mouth, so I
gave the does by intramuscular injections. We took turns watching the boy
day and night. For four days he seemed to hover between life and death.
But on the fifth day the fever abated and from then on he steadily improved.
The fever had burned him to skin and bones, and he was still helplessly weak.
I had to devise some way of helping him to recover his strength, so I ordered
him to be carried to the sea in front of his house for a daily three-minute dip.
At first he seemed exhausted by this routine, and I could feel the strong though
silent disapproval of the Panglima. But I persisted, and my luck held, for
with this daily stimulant, Pula began to look more like himself. Finally
he was able to join Bogtong and me in fishing and hunting, perfectly restored.
Later they both took an interest in my digging and often joined me at the site.
But at length my work drew to a close. My patient was well
again, and nothing could hold me longer with my pleasant friends. At
dinner that night I announced that I must return to Manila. They all
expressed sorrow at losing me, and the Panglima asked me how much he owed me for
treating his son. I told him that he did not owe me anything, that he was
my friend, and so was his son, and to me the continued friendship of the entire
family was compensation enough. This surprised the old chief, and he
became silent. He called an attendant and whispered something to him.
The man left the room and a few minutes later returned holding the largest pearl
in the world in his hands. He placed it in front of the old man.
The Panglima speaks
The Panglima laid his hand on the pearl and said, "Mr. Cobb, one
week before you came, I knew that my son was mortally ill. I have seen so
many of my tribe die of the disease, I was terrified. Quinine, the only
remedy that we know, did not seem to do any good. I was helpless, I did
not know what to do. That night, holding this pearl in my hands, I prayed
to Allah for help. In my prayers I vowed to Allah that however much I
valued this pearl I would willingly give it to anyone that he could send to help
me save my son. As though to test my sincerity, you came."
"I remembered that two years ago you tried to buy the pearl.
I wondered then if you were the man that would save my son from his affliction,
but you were a Christian, and it hardly seemed possible. Then I took you
to the sick boy's room, and when Pula, who had been delirious for three days,
saw you, recognized you and asked you to help. I thought that you might be
the one.
"Well, my friend, you saved my son's life. Mr. Cobb, we
are just on the outskirts of the jungle, where generally life is bought with
life. This pearl was dearly paid for with the life of a young man.
Now you have bought the pearl from me with the life of my only son as your
payment. What more could a father ask? You have saved my son, and
you have earned your reward. Here, my friend, claim this, your pearl."
Today the pearl is on display at Ripley's exhibit on Broadway,
where it may be seen for perhaps a month longer.
A remarkable specimen
As Dr. Roy Waldo Miner of the America Museum, who has examined
it, explained, this specimen, while so many times larger than any of the pearls
we are familiar with, can be truly called a pearl. It was formed on the
inside of a shell as all pearls are, presumably by some foreign body being
imbedded in the shell material, perhaps when the shell clamped suddenly shut.
The natives who found it, who are keen observers of natural history and have
good opportunity as pearl divers to observe undersea life, believe that the
foreign body which started the pearl growing was probably a small piece of brain
coral. Some such origin as this is not contradictory to what is known
about the formation of pearls. Where it was joined to the clam shell the
successive layers can be seen in cross section.
As in any pearl, the surface appearance of this one gets its
quality from the inner lyer of the clam shell that was its host. The color
of this giant pearl is pure lustrous white.
No one can say how old the pearl may be, for, as Doctor Miner
points out, no scientific study has yet accurately determined the rate of growth
of one of these giant clams. The natives thought that possibly 450 years
had passed since the clam was the size of a fist, and that the pearl may have
started growth when the clam was 100 years old.
That such a phenomenal pearl should have been found is surely
exciting enough, but I constantly wonder over the strange coincidence that the
clam which produced it should have taken the life of a native diver and that,
even in a part of the world that is surrounded with so much romance and mystery,
its story should also have been so remarkably connected with the saving of
another life.
The World's Largest Pearl
By WILBURN DOWELL COBB
As published in the Mensa Bulletin, issue date
Feb. 1969
In July 1939 I was displaying the Pearl of Allah at Robert L.
'Believe It or Not' Ripley's Exhibit on Broadway, in New York city. One
day an elderly Chinese gentleman who introduced himself only as Mr. Lee
accompanied by another Chinese whom I was to learn was his personal physician,
asked if he might examine the World's Largest pearl. Although he seemed to
be suppressing a great excitement, he was quite obviously a man of the highest
culture and substantial wealth. I had no hesitation about opening the case
and placing the Pearl in his hands.
Slowly he turned it about and around, eyeing it from every angle
with a penetrating gaze. then suddenly he uttered a cry, staggered back,
and burst into an hysteria of trembling and weeping! I removed the Pearl
carefully from his clutching hands. His physician, with the help of Bob
ripley, led him into the private office and put him on a cot set up there.
The physician applied restoratives to Mr. Lee, but even so it was at least an
hour before he was able to trust himself to walk again.
He asked me if I would sell him the great pearl for half a
million dollars. I replied it was not for sale. Impatiently he
retorted, 'My dear man, everything has its price, and I have little time for
bargaining. The Pearl is worth three and a half million dollars to my
Family.'
Tempting thought this great amount of money was to me, I had no
choice but to refuse, because in my home in the Far East I had been taught that
a gift which involved the saving of a human life may not be disposed of (without
irreparable loss of face) for three times seven years, and the Pearl had been
given to me only three years before. He said that I was a fit guardian of
the treasure, and asked if he might be allowed to photograph the Pearl. I
consented, and he took three exposures, all from what seemed to me to be the
same position.
He promised to return in three days with copies for me, and an
explanation of his eagerness to purchase the Pearl. After exacting a
promise from Bob Ripley and me to keep his visit secret, and his offer, Mr. Lee
and his physician left.
When he came back a few days later to give me the promised
photographs, he amazed me by pointing out two faces on the Pearl! One he
identified as that of the Buddha, the other as Confucius. The left eye of
the Buddha served also as the right eye of Confucius, which signified that these
two great spiritual leaders saw eye to eye in many different aspects of life.
'Mr. Lee', I asked in astonishment, 'how did you know a picture
take from the angle you used would show two faces? The Pearl has been in
my possession for three years, yet up to this very moment I could see only one
face!'
He replied: "Mr. Cobb, in my ancestral home in
Shanghai there is a painting of your Pearl. Done in the early years of the
Ming Dynasty, it shows the jewel in what was its actual size at that time.
It has grown considerably since then. Now that painting, and the story of
its subject are my first and most vivid recollections. I shall relate the
Pearl's history to you, and then I shall leave you with a surprise and a
problem."
As a member of the Lee family, he was a descendant of Lao Tzu.
According to the story which Mr. Lee had heard many times from the Elders of his
family, Lao Tzu (c. 600 B.C.), famed philosopher and founder of Taoism, when
quire old became weary of the evils of mankind. He resolved to spend his
few remaining years away from civilization. As he prepared to leave, a
nephew asked him for his philosophy of the way one should live. Lao tzu
replied, 'I do good to those who do good to me, and I do good to those who do
evil to me, and in time everyone will be doing good.'
The reply puzzled his nephew, who requested a more concrete
example. Lao Tzu gave him a small amulet on which the old man had carved
the crude representations of the faces of three friends. He identified
these as the Buddha, Confucius, and himself, and said to his nephew (following
certain instructions which have been lost in antiquity). 'Take this, place
it securely in a clam, and wait for three or four years. All that time,
you will be torturing the mollusc almost to death, but when you open it at the
end of the period, you will find that the lowly clam has given you a pearl, thus
doing good to you who have done evil to him. On that jewel you will
recognize the faces of the Three Friends. It is true that they will be
crude, for I am an old man now and my hands have lost their skill, but they will
be there and you will be able to discern them.'
Lao Tzu departed. The nephew followed his instructions.
The experiment was a success, and the Pearl was handed down from father to son
as that particular branch of the Lee family moved gradually southward telling
those who cared to listen the philosophy of Lao Tzu. to convince sceptics,
the Pearl frequently had to be placed in another and always larger clam.
How many times that was done was not recorded.
The Pearl of Lao Tzu seemed to act as magic on the fortunes of
his nephew's descendants. All pearls of great value found their way to the
family coffers, ambergris, trepang, other treasures of the sea, as well as gold
from the Philippines and Borneo, and edible birds' nests from Palawan, Sumatra,
Borneo, and Java. The family became successful merchants, adhering closely
to the philosophy of Lao Tzu, and the Far east all the way to Sumatra became
their commercial empire.
The size of the Pearl increased until only the Giant clam (Tridacna
Gigans), largest of bivalves, could contain it. As told in the family
story, it was placed in a giant clam to convince the cynical Sultan of Jolo.
In a frightening typhoon, the clam disappeared, but the legend lived on in that
branch of the Lee family.
Mr. Lee, an extremely wealthy merchant in Hong Kong, Amoy, and
Shanghai, had flown to Manila immediately on learning of the existence of the
huge Pearl which its Moslem discoverers five years earlier had named The
Pearl of Allah. Finding that it was in New York, he hurried there, and
met me. I had never even considered the Pearl to have more than one face,
but he located all three almost instantly. It was this discovery which had
shocked him into collapsing. He was absolutely certain that here indeed
was the long-lost Pearl of Lao Tzu, a spiritual legend in his family for more
than two thousand years! The sudden realization that the centuries-old
quest had culminated before his very eyes had come perilously close to bringing
the old gentleman a complete nervous breakdown.
He was seventy years old, and he asked me to wait an additional
twenty-four years for him! If he did not return to purchase the Pearl by
that time--again he declared its worth to his family as $3,500,000--I was to
understand that he would not be back. In this case (Mr. Lee went on to
tell me) when I had attained sufficient enlightenment to discern the Third
Face--that of Lao Tzu-- and to understand the message of the Three Friends I
should seek out the Hear Dharma of the Buddhist Church in the United States.
If that gentleman approved, Mr. Lee asked me to let the world know the Message
of the Pearl. That has been done. And I offer Mensa its Message.
When I met Mr. Lee in New York in 1939, the Japanese armies were
in China. Mr. Lee asked Bob Ripley and me to keep his visit a secret, in
case his relatives in China should suffer. We agreed, and his name has not
been mentioned before. His offer was a valid one, thought, and that was
how a week later, there appeared in blazing lights at the 'Believe It or Not'
exhibit on Broadway: COME AND SEE THE $3,500,000 PEARL -- THE LARGEST
PEARL IN THE WORLD!
Before he left to return to China, I asked Mr. Lee if
transplanting the Pearl from clam to clam was always successful. He told
me that very often it was not the case, and the new host clam would die.
Lao Tzu, who in addition to his other qualities was a most capable naturalist,
had formulated a liquid (apparently an early type of tranquillizer) in which the
host clam must be immersed for a now-forgotten period of time in order for it to
become accustomed to, and to accept, the intruding Pearl. If the liquid
should be incorrectly compounded, or an insufficient amount used, or if the
immersion period were too long or too short, the result would be failure.
He also stated that shortly after the Pearl was lost, during the
Ming Dynasty, a jade amulet came into style. It depicted the Three
Friends, and seemingly was a replacement of the lost Pearl. For an
illustration of this amulet, see Natural History for Jan. 1940, p. 11.
(The Encyclopedia Britannica confirms that the art of
producing cultured baroque pearls had been mastered by the early Chinese, which
authenticates Mr. Lee's statement to this effect.)
The Buddha and Confucius did see eye to eye in seeking out
disciples and preaching to convert them to the beliefs of one or the other; but
the Third Friend, Lao Tzu, did not agree with this approach--he chose the life
of a recluse, and passed his remaining time on earth in philosophic meditation
of his Tao (or 'Way'). It is believed that, aside from his nephew, he made
but one convert: this was Yin Hsi, the frontier guard who insisted on Lao Tzu's
writing The Way of Life before allowing him to leave the state of Shou.
After reading the Little Book, Yin Hsi, tears in his eyes, cleaned the
guardhouse, polished the table, and carefully laid The Way of Life on it.
Reverently the guard went out and sat beside the ancient Lao Tzu in his cart,
and taking the reins from the old man's hands gently and with utmost respect he
guided the black ox through the high gates of Chou. Before dark Lao Tzu
and his single convert had disappeared to the west, never to be seen again.
The Buddha: 'Good begets good and evil begets
evil.'
Confucious: 'If you do not wish a certain thing
done to you, please do not do it to others.'
Lao Tzu: 'Not might, not coercion, not
dictatorship, but Reason is the natural way of life, for in Creation was Reason,
even in Cosmic Power was Reason, for force or power alone would have destroyed
itself; and even today, power as we know it, if deprived of Reason, could and
will destroy our world.'
If these three wise men can inhabit a pearl in perfect peace and
friendship, certainly all the peoples of the world can live in peace on earth.
Here, then, is the symbolism of the message of The Pearl of Lao
Tzu (The Pearl of the Three Friends): 'LIVE IN PEACE--LIVE AND LET LIVE,
FOR OTHERWISE OUR WORLD WILL CEASE TO EXIST.'
And, should anything in this account offend your beliefs,
do not ever forget, 'There are many ways to the top of the beautiful mountain.'
|
