Down into the narrow entrance sped the faithless messenger, tearing up the water in his mad flight, while the brave Guidala struck in vain at his huge body.  Suddenly a roar of thunder sounded and the thunderbolt fell on the back of the monster, bearing him down beneath the waves and then, stiffening like a bar of iron, pinning him to the bottom far below.  In vain he struggled to free himself; the bar held him fast and sure.  In his struggles the shell fell from his mouth, but a little Tamban caught it and brought it safely to Captan.

Thousands of years have passed, but far under the water, like a fly on a pin, Sinogo struggles in the form of a huge Buaya.  The water bubbles around him and for three miles little whirlpools go racing up the channel.  And the native in his little sacayan avoids the narrow entrance where the water boils and foams, for Sinogo still twists and squirms, and the Liloan is a thing to be feared and dreaded.

Catalina of Dumaguete

This is a legend of Dumaguete, the capital of the province of Negros Occidental.  From this town can be seen five islands, viz., Negros, Cebu, Bohol, Mindanao, and Siquijor.

There is no one on the great island of Negros who does not love the name of Catalina.  Even the wild mountain men speak it with respect, and down in the coast towns at night, when the typhoon is lashing the waters of Tanon Strait, and the rain and wind make the nipa leaves on the roofs dance and rattle, the older people gather their little black-eyed grandchildren around the shell of burning cocoanut oil and tell them her story.

Many years ago there lived in Dumaguete a poor tuba seller named Banog, who made his daily rounds to the houses just as the milkman does in far-off America.  But instead of a rattling wagon he had only a long bamboo from which he poured the drink, and in place of sweet milk he left the sap of the cocoanut tree.

The bad custom of mixing tungud, a kind of red bark, with the sap, and thus making of it a strong liquor, had not yet been known, so Banog, though poor, was respected, and the people tried in every way to help him and his daughter Catalina.

Catalina was a beautiful girl of sixteen and very good and industrious, but with many strange ways.  She scarcely ever spoke a word and spent most of her time in looking out over the sea.  Sometimes she would suddenly stand erect and, clasping her hands, would remain for a long time looking up at the sky as if she saw something that no one else could see.  On account of these strange manners the people thought her a wonderful girl and she was supposed to have mysterious powers.

One day many ships came up from the island of Mindanao and hundreds of fierce Moros landed.  Shouting and waving their terrible knives, they fell upon the peaceful people and killed many, among them poor Banog.  Then they robbed and burned the houses and, seizing all the women they could find, set sail for their great southern island.  Among the prisoners was Catalina.  With her eyes fixed on the sky she sat very quiet and still in the bow of one of the boats, and though her companions spoke often to her she made no reply.