Such is the story of Catalina, Since that time Dumaguete has been safe from the Moros.  The Sigbin has never returned to Negros.  It still lives in the mountains of Cebu and the people are so afraid of it that they lock themselves in their houses after dark and can hardly be induced to come out.  Up in the mountains of Negros live the little black men.  They are called Negritos and are very savage and wild.

The savior of Dumaguete still lives in Dalugdug and is worshiped by the people.  And in the town, now grown into a big busy city, the old people for years to come will tell their grandchildren the story of Catalina.

The Fall of Polobulac

This is a tale from Panay.  It probably originated with the Spanish fathers, who wished to impress the doctrine of the Seven Deadly Sins on the natives.  The islands are just off Iloilo.

A little way from Iloilo there once was a beautiful island called Polobulac, or Isle of Flowers.  Its shores were covered with beautiful trees and plants; splendid gardens of flowers were found everywhere; fruits grew in abundance; fountains sparkled in the sunlight; and the people were the happiest in the world.  They danced and sang to gay music, and were free from every care and sorrow.

Filled with confidence in their good fortune, and proud of their beautiful island, they began to slight the people of the neighboring islands, and to treat them with insolence and scorn.

One night the sky was darkened, the lightning flashed, the rain fell in torrents, and a voice cried from the clouds, above the roar of the thunder: 

“I am Pride.  Avoid me or perish.”

Terrified, they prayed to God for protection, but with the morning sun their fears left them and they continued as before.

Days passed and the people grew richer, but, not satisfied with their wealth and with their own beautiful island, they longed to possess the lands of their neighbors.

Again came the storm, and again a voice cried from the heavens: 

“I am Covetousness.  Come to me and die.”

Once more they appealed for protection, but they did not change their ways.

Weeks went by, and with wealth came low and base desires.  The storm came as before and brought the warning: 

“I am Evil Desire.  Fly from me or be lost.”

But again it sounded to sealed ears.  Months rolled on.  The people quarreled with their neighbors, and sent forth an army to make war upon them.  The voice thundered: 

“I am Anger.  I give eternal torment.”

Years followed, and the tables of the people of Polobulac were loaded with the finest foods and wines.  Day and night found them feasting.  The cry sounded above them: 

“I am Gluttony.  I devour my children.”

The winds alone echoed the warning.

Time flew by.  Each man sought to outdo the others in display of luxury and magnificence.  The poor grudged the rich their fortunes, and sought in every way to injure them.  Again a voice came through the darkness: