A long time ago, so the legend runs, when the Philippines was not yet separated by a wide stretch of water from the mainland of Asia, there was then no high mountain nor volcano in the region now known as Bikolandia. Kabikolan was the old name given by the inhabitants to this place. In it, so the myth says, there once dwelt a beautiful women and sturdy warriors. Thus many suitors from far-off regions flocked to Kabikolan purposely to court its maiden. They, however, returned home dejectedly because it was the unbroken code of that place that no strangers could marry its daragas (maidens). So strict were the fathers with regard to the marriage of their daughters that tribal wars would frequently mar the beauty of the village. The inhabitants, of course, were secure from the onslaught of the invaders for all of them were mostly experienced warriors.
One midnight, while silence pervaded the place, Daragang Magayon unexpectedly confessed to her father of her love affair with a certain man man who live beyond the border of Kabikolan.
"Tatay," she began tremuluosly, "it will mean eternal disgrace to our family if I am known to be in love with stranger who lives on the other side of Kabikolan (the boundry river that separates kabikolan from Katagalogan, the region inhibited by the tagalogs). To me he is the handsomest of all men I have ever seen. I owe my life to him, because he saved me from the mad currents of Kabikolan when one morning while I was bathing in the river, my feet, unfortunately, slipped on the rock I stood upon.
Tiong Makusog became grief-stricken after learning that his only daughter had already chosen her life-partner without his knowledge. Nevertheless, he controlled himself, and queried, although scarcely intelligible, who her strange sweetheart was.
"That is it," Daragang Magayon seemed to have trailed her father's thoughts, "I am sure you don't know his name because when you arrived, I was already saved from drowning, and he had immediately, 'namomotan ta ka,' (I love you) he told me one sunset when we met again at the bank of the river. 'Namomotan ta ka man," (I love you too) I replied, whereupon, I felt his lips tenderly pressing mine. What shall we do father? I don't love Paratuga. I prefer a thousand deaths than wed him!" she ended firmly.
"I will help you to find the best way out, my daughter, "Tiong Makusog, albeit heavy was his heart, assured her.
That same day, a few hours after Tiong Makusog had been taken as captive, Linog, Paratuga's chief messenger arrived at Daragang Magayon's house and delivered to her a letter written on a piece of white bambo. it contained a demand of her hand in marriage to Paratuga, or her refusal would mean immediate death of her father. Realizing the futility of a further refusal, Daragang Magayon forgot her gentle Panganoron, the man who had saved her from drowning. She at once rushed down the stairs and proceeded to Paratuga's village to accept his terms to be his wife, to save her father.
Panganoron and his followers arrived in Kabikolan on the day of Magayon's marriage with Paratuga. The invaders were determined to slay the unwanted suitor and his people. Before the altar sat Tiong Makusog, with Daragang Magayon and Paratuga on each of side. In front of them was the high priest who was busily mumbling words of incantation of the two parties as husband and wife. To the thousand pairs of eyes that witnessed the splendid ceremony, Daragang Magayon appeared immensely beautiful. Never before had they seen such a winsome woman! However, they could see that grief had pitilessly lodged on her lovely face.
In the midst of the wedding ceremony, nevertheless, a sharpy cry of "Tulisanes are coming!" from a villager outside suddenly out the scene into a medley of shrieking voice. Men, women and children speed away for safety. Only Daragang Magayon, Paratuga and his warriors remained to await the invaders headed by Panganoron. In a moment the battle was on. The Sharp metallic clash of blade filled the air, and mounds of dying warriors gave a horrible sound. In the fight. Paratuga was the first to fall, at hands of the bold Panganoron. Seeing her returned lover, Daragang Magayon at once rushed to him, but sadly enough, a stray arrow fatally hit her. In his efforts to lift the weakening body of his sweetheart, Panganoron was unnoticedly attacked from behind. He reeled to the ground, bleeding and breathless. His men, sending that they were outnumbered, took to their heels and left him lifeless to their enemy.
During the countless years that followed that incident, the burial-hill of Daragang Magayon had kept on growing and growing until it was transformed into a high mountain, with its top almost piercing the clouds.
The spirit of Panganoron, on the other hand, so the legend says, is wandering in the form of clouds above the peak of the mountain, These clouds usually visit the the burial-place of Daragang Magayon and never fail to kiss it. Apparently the spirit of Panganoron seems to be grieving over the death of his sweetheart, for whenever clouds gather at the top, they usually disperse into volleys of raindrops, thus keeping the plants vegetating on the mountain slopes fresh all the year round. The People of Albay contend that these frequent visits of the spirit of Panganoron to the mountain of Daragang Magayon, in the form of clouds and rain may account for its having a heavy rainfall every year.
Today the imposing mountain of Daragang Magayon still stands in Albay, perpetually clad with the green foliage of plants. Indeed what a striking parallelism to find this mountain, like the winsome lady of the former Kabikolan, always a radiant symbol of hope, to honor and remember the memory of Daragang Magayon, the mountain that marks her resting place is now called Mayon (short for Magayon) and the village by its slopes is at present a thriving town known as Daraga (derived from Daragang) which is still noted for its pretty women.