AN EXCURSION AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.—RETURN TO MANILLA.—AN EARTHQUAKE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.
Our friends were back from the hot springs in good time in the afternoon, and the next day they proceeded with their own boat to make farther excursions in Luzon. We will let Frank and Fred tell the story, which they did in a letter that left Manilla by the next mail.
After describing the experiences already recorded, the letter ran as follows:
"When we left Jala-jala we went farther up the lake and over to the other side, so as to make a journey in the mountains, and among the native inhabitants. Mr. Segovia said that the farther we went into the interior the wilder and more primitive would we find the people, but that their manners and customs were generally much alike. The Spanish officials are scattered all over the country, and every town and village has its alcalde or mayor, who is elected by the people, but must be approved by the governor. The larger towns and villages have Spanish alcaldes, but in the smaller places the officials are native, and sometimes very ignorant. An alcalde, whether Spanish or native, considers himself a very important personage, and when dressed in his best clothes and out for a walk his appearance is quite comical.
AN ALCALDE AND HIS CONSTABLE.
"At the first village where we landed, on the other side of the lake, the alcalde and his constable came to meet us, as they had heard the day before that we were coming, through a message sent by our guide. The alcalde was a short, stout man, and carried a gold-headed cane, which was his staff of office; he wore his shirt outside his trousers, after the custom of the country, and he had a dress-coat over it, evidently made for him years ago when he was thinner. He wore a bell-crowned hat, tilted on one side, like some of the men you see on Broadway, and he had wooden shoes on his stockingless feet. Behind him came the constable, who was a great contrast to his master in shape and form; he was thin as a fishing-rod, and carried his hat in his hand, while his feet were quite bare. One of us made a rough sketch of the pair while they were talking with Mr. Segovia and the Doctor.
"We are told that the Spanish alcaldes generally get rich in a few years, if they happen to be in good districts; but there are some that go away as poor as they came. The governor rewards his friends by securing their election to good places where they may make money. This may seem very strange to you at home, but you must remember that we are in Luzon, on the other side of the world from America; of course nothing like it was ever heard of in the United States.
"We engaged saddle-horses for an excursion among the mountains, and some porters to carry our baggage; the latter started off in advance, and we were to overtake them at a village where we would pass the night. There was no trouble in getting the horses, as their owners were quite willing to hire them out; but the engagement of the porters was not so easy. The people are not fond of hard work, and you may be sure it is no joke to carry ever so small a parcel in this hot climate. The mayor arranged it for us and selected the men, and he also fixed the price for us to pay. When they were assigned to the work, each man picked up the lightest thing he could find—one an umbrella, and another a field-glass that didn't weigh a pound, while a third seized a little dressing-case belonging to Mr. Segovia. They were about to move off with these loads when the alcalde called them back, and made them distribute the baggage evenly. When it was properly arranged, they had about twenty-five pounds apiece, which was not at all too much.
AN AVENUE OF PALM-TREES.
"At first the road was through a level country, and among fields of rice, tobacco, and other things that grow on the lowlands. We saw great numbers of palm-trees, and at one place there was quite a long avenue of them which somebody had set out when they were small, and allowed them to grow. It is difficult to say how many varieties of these trees we saw in the day's journey, but there must have been a dozen at least. The most useful of them was the sugar-palm; its name indicates its character, as it is cultivated for the sugar it produces, very much as the maple is cultivated in some parts of the United States and Canada.
"Perhaps you would like to know how they make sugar from a palm-tree. Well, this is the way they do it:
"The tree is tapped by cutting a deep notch in it seven or eight feet from the top, and attaching a section of bamboo to serve as a bucket to catch the sap or juice. As fast as the bamboos fill up they must be changed, and a good tree will yield eight or ten quarts daily for about six weeks. The juice is then boiled down, just as the juice of the sugar-cane or maple-tree is boiled, and is finally granulated into a coarse brown sugar.
"The juice of another variety of the tree is used for making palm-brandy, and it is said that thirty-six quarts of the juice will make six quarts of spirit. The buds of the tree are cut before they have time to blossom, and the sap that runs from them is caught in bamboos, just as in the case of the other kind of tree. The juice is then fermented into wine, which is afterward distilled into brandy. The government used to have the monopoly of the business, and though private individuals could make all they wished, they were obliged to sell to the government at a fixed price. The contractors made large profits on the business, and you may be sure the government did not lose anything. But so much of the proceeds of the business were consumed in the expense of gathering, that the government a few years ago gave up the monopoly, and allowed the manufacturers to pay taxes on what they sold, just as the manufacturers of spirits do in other countries.
"As we went back from the lake the country became more and more hilly, and when we stopped at night we were close to the mountains. The air seemed cooler, because we had been constantly ascending, but we were surrounded with tropical trees quite as much as in the lower country. Just as we came into the village where we were to spend the night, our attention was called to a native clock, and we stopped to have a look at it.
A VILLAGE CLOCK.
"You never saw such a clock in America, or rather such a bell, for it was really a bell for sounding the hours, and not a timepiece.
"A log that had been hollowed out was suspended under a tree by one end, through which a lot of ropes were passed. This was the bell, and it was struck with a smaller log suspended near it; a watchman came every hour from the house of the priest, where there was a real clock that showed the time. Of course such a rude apparatus as this could not be exact, as the watchman is not very careful. Sometimes he makes the hours only fifteen minutes long, and when he has struck all of them, he goes home and has a comfortable rest. In this way he can make it noon before it is nine o'clock in the morning; in the middle of the day there is nothing to do, and he will stay away three or four hours without coming near the timepiece at all.
"Some children coming from school stopped to look at us while we were looking at the clock, and this made us ask about the schools among the natives. We were told that there were schools in all the villages; the school-master is paid by the government, and generally receives about two dollars a month, without board or lodging. If the village is a large one, he has three dollars and a half a month, and must pay for an assistant out of his own pocket; the assistant is usually a woman, who teaches the younger children, and her wages are one dollar a month, with a little present at the end of the year. The schools are under the supervision of the priests of the districts, and about half the children do not go to school at all. They teach reading and writing, and a little arithmetic; the Indians learn arithmetic very easily, and each scholar has a pile of shells before him, which he counts over and over again when he is learning the numerals. With the same shells he studies addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, by separating them into little heaps, and it is said to be very amusing to see the scholars at their tasks. They learn to write on a table covered with sand, and as fast as they have written an exercise, the sand is smoothed over for another. This odd sort of copy-book cannot be carried home at night; and, in fact, they don't have more than two or three books altogether. The reading-book is the "Christian Doctrine," so that the scholars get their religious education along with anything else they are learning. They remember their religion longer than they do their arithmetic, as they soon forget all else that they have learned, unless they go into employments requiring a knowledge of reading and writing.
A VOLCANO IN REPOSE.
"The next morning we went farther up into the interior, and came in sight of a mountain that looked like a great pile of ashes, and had a little wreath of smoke issuing from near the top. Our guide told us it was a volcano that had an eruption a few years before, but was now very quiet; what we said looked like ashes was the cone of the mountain covered with the volcanic ashes that had been thrown up. We wanted to climb the mountain, but there wasn't time; and, besides, it came on to rain, and we had to stop. The rain kept up through the night and all the next day, and we concluded to return to Manilla as soon as we could, and get ready to move on somewhere else. Perhaps you will want to know what we would have seen if we had gone across the island, and all through it.
INDIANS OF THE INTERIOR.
"We should have been some time among the mountains, as there is a chain of them running the whole length of Luzon; many of these mountains are volcanic, and some of them do a good deal of smoking. Perhaps we should have felt the earth trembling under us suddenly, and continuing to tremble for several seconds, as it is said to do here very often; we have experienced two or three little earthquakes, and are in no hurry to make the acquaintance of a large one, though we are liable to do so at any moment.
"Perhaps we could have gone to the gold mines; but it is doubtful, as the government is not willing to let strangers see them, and they even put a good many difficulties in the way of Spaniards who want to go there. It is certain there is a considerable area of country in Luzon containing gold, and lumps have been found worth two or three hundred dollars. Several mines have been opened, but they have not paid the men who own the stock, though it is hinted that the managers on the ground have done well. Our Spanish friend asked if this was not the case sometimes in America; but we told him we had never owned any gold mines, and consequently could not give him any precise information. He laughed, and then talked about something else, without again mentioning gold-mines.
TRAVELLING THROUGH THE FOREST IN LUZON.
"Then we might have seen mines of lead, copper, and other metals; and we should have travelled through dense forests, where not even a horse can go. If we had undertaken such a journey, we should have been escorted by natives with spears and shields, as they have very little knowledge of fire-arms. The Spaniards are unwilling to let them have any weapons with which they could fight; and, as they have no noxious animals to contend with, there is no occasion for them to be armed. There are no tigers, lions, or similar beasts of prey in the Philippines; the wild animals have already been mentioned, and include the boar and buffalo, which are not dangerous as long as you let them alone.
"Well, we'll give one jump right back to Manilla, and get ready to leave. Here we are, safe and sound, though somewhat tired from being cramped up in a boat, and sore from riding on horseback and walking over rough ground. We have seen a great many new things, and had experiences that were new to us, and we have—"
Here the writing of the letter was interrupted by a violent shaking of the table at which the boys were seated; Frank was thrown from his chair, and Fred saved himself from going over by grasping the table with both hands, and resting his weight upon it. The Doctor was lying on a lounge a few feet away, and engaged in the perusal of a parcel of papers just received from New York; his reading was instantly suspended, and he came to his feet at the very moment Frank fell to the floor.
"An earthquake! an earthquake!" said Frank.
"An earthquake, certainly," answered Fred; "there's no mistaking it."
STREET SCENE DURING AN EARTHQUAKE.
The Doctor said not a word, but seized his hat and started for the street, followed by both the boys. By the time they reached there the streets were crowded with people in the greatest state of alarm; many were on their knees in prayer, and in a few moments a priest appeared carrying a crucifix, to which many eyes were turned. Tiles were falling from the roofs, walls were crashing into heaps of ruins, seams opened in the earth, men and women were shouting and screaming in terror, and what had been only a few minutes before a peaceful and sleepy city, was now a scene of wild excitement and desolation.
Our friends sought the middle of the street and there stopped, the Doctor assuring the boys that they ought to be as far as possible from the falling walls and tiles. "It often happens," said he, "that an earthquake shock is followed by another a few minutes later, and sometimes the second is more severe than the first. We'll wait here awhile, and then be guided by the movements of the inhabitants; if they go back to their houses we can return to the hotel."
The shock was not renewed, and after a while the alarm began to subside, but very slowly; word came that the cathedral had been thrown down, but luckily no one had been injured, as it was not the hour of service, and the custodians of the place were outside the doors at the moment of the shock. Several of the government buildings were destroyed, and it was thought many people had been crushed to death by the falling walls. It was impossible at that time to estimate the damage, but it was known to be very great.
The Doctor suggested that they would walk to the cathedral and see the extent of the ruin, and so the trio proceeded there. Every few steps they met dozens of people rushing wildly about in spite of the efforts of others to calm them. As they neared the cathedral the crowd became more and more dense, but happily less excited; it was a matter of some difficulty to get near the ruins, but by patience and perseverance Doctor Bronson and the youths worked their way to the front of the assemblage, and close up to the heap of brick and stone.
A part of the front had fallen, and with it one of the sides; but the rest of the walls remained standing, though there were great seams here and there that showed the work was seriously weakened, and would need to be torn down if it did not fall. The roof was crushed, owing to the loss of support on one side, and the rafters and the covering boards lay in a confused mass on the floor.
It began to grow dark, as the earthquake occurred a little before sunset, and our friends deemed it best to return to the hotel. They reached it in safety, and found it had not suffered greatly by the shaking it had received; like many of the houses of Manilla it was only one story in height, and the roof was lightly constructed, partly because the climate did not require a heavy one, and partly with a view to avoiding injury in the frequent disturbances to which Luzon is subject. The walls were cracked in a few places, and some of the tiles had been dislodged; but the proprietor thought that for twenty dollars he could repair all the damages.
Very naturally the conversation during the evening was devoted to earthquakes, and the boys accumulated a considerable stock of information on the subject. Fred turned to Mr. Jagor's book on the Philippines, and found that a great many earthquakes had been recorded in Manilla, the most fatal occurring in the years 1601, 1610, 1645, 1658, 1675, 1796, 1824, 1852, and 1863.[2] On the third of June, 1863, at thirty-one minutes past seven in the evening, after a day of tremendous heat, and while all Manilla was busy with preparations for a religious festival, the ground suddenly rocked to and fro with great violence; the firmest buildings reeled visibly, walls crumbled, and beams snapped in two. The shock lasted half a minute; but this little interval of time was enough to change the whole city into a mass of ruins, and to bury alive hundreds of its inhabitants. The cathedral, the barracks, the governor's residence, and all the public buildings were entirely destroyed; 400 persons were killed, 2000 were wounded, and the loss in money was estimated at $8,000,000. Forty-six public and 570 private buildings were thrown down, and all the houses that remained standing were more or less injured.
Frank asked the Doctor what was the cause of an earthquake, and whether the movements of the ground were always the same.
"The cause is difficult to get at," Doctor Bronson answered, "although the wisest men in all ages have studied the phenomenon, and endeavored to make a satisfactory theory for it. The ancient philosophers supposed that the winds became imprisoned in the earth, and, in their struggles to escape, gave rise to the upheaval of the land and the general convulsions. In the last century a French scientist contended that large quantities of bituminous and sulphurous matter became suddenly inflamed, and broke forth in violent fermentations. The still more modern theory is that the surface of the earth is only a thin crust over a mass of melted matter; that we live on the outside of a ball of liquid fire, which is liable to explode at any time, and put an end to us and all around. It is argued that the volcanoes now in activity are the outlets for this internal fire, and the occasional eruptions and earthquakes are the result of the fire seeking vent, in consequence of the clogging of the subterranean passages."
Frank thought the theory was not very comforting, and on the whole he preferred the older one. Fred agreed with him, and then the Doctor continued:
"The movements of the ground are not always the same in earthquakes; sometimes there will be only a single shock, or more frequently two about twenty seconds or even a minute apart, and again there will be a succession of shocks lasting for hours, or even days, at irregular intervals. The latter is oftener the case in South America than in other parts of the world; there the ground keeps up a rocking more or less continual for hours, and the later shocks are generally more violent than the earlier ones. Usually, however, the earthquake comes without warning, and is over in less than a minute, but in that space of time the destruction may be terrible.
DESTRUCTION OF MESSINA IN 1783.
"Sometimes the earthquake comes in the form of a blow of the surface of the earth from beneath, and in this shape it is most fatal and destructive. The earth seems to rise into the air as though there was a great explosion beneath it; buildings are forced upward and fall in fragments, and whole villages and towns are tossed against the hills and mountains in the vicinity, while men and animals are conveyed hundreds of yards away, either with or without the land on which they are standing. The great earthquake of 1783 in Southern Italy and Sicily, that destroyed Messina and other cities, was of this character. A peasant was carried from one part of a valley to another, together with the field where he was at work; and at another place people were hurled against the top and sides of a hill. Messina seemed to be lifted up in an instant of time, and then fell back again, burying thousands of people beneath the crumbling stones. There was no warning in any form; but the movement of the ground was accompanied by a roaring sound, which seemed to be far down in the earth. Ships were dashed against the shore, or overwhelmed with the huge waves that accompanied the earthquake, and the ground opened in many places in great cracks, that soon closed up again and swallowed those who happened to be caught in them.
ITALIAN PEASANTS INGULFED BY CREVASSES.
"To show how complete was the destruction by that earthquake, we will consider the effects on the town of Terra Nova. It stood on an elevated plateau that had deep gorges on three sides of it. The shock of the earthquake shook the plateau to pieces, and it rolled down into the gorges, carrying houses and inhabitants with it. Men, women, and children were swallowed up, and so complete was the devastation, that nothing remained to show where the town had been. The ground continued to tremble at intervals for months after this great earthquake, but there were no shocks as severe as the first."
"Haven't I read somewhere," said one of the boys, "that the severest earthquakes are near the sea?"
"Quite possibly you have read it," the Doctor answered, "for such is the case. There seems to be some kind of relationship between the sea and volcanoes and earthquakes; the greatest and most active volcanoes are not far removed from the sea or ocean, and some are actually in it. Vesuvius and Etna rise from the edge of the Mediterranean, while nearly on a line between them we find Stromboli, which has been in active eruption for two thousand years. It is called the light-house of the Mediterranean, and is very useful to mariners, as it gives a flash of light at regular intervals of a few minutes, and can be seen at night from a great distance. It is directly in the track of steamers between Naples and Messina, and makes a most excellent landmark.
A SUBMARINE ERUPTION.
"There are volcanoes that have their craters under water—or rather there are submarine eruptions that would be in the form of volcanoes if they were on land. I once saw one of these eruptions while going through the eastern part of the Mediterranean, near the Santorin Islands. There was a column of dense smoke rising from the water, and it could be seen for miles; above it, and not very far up, was a cloud formed from this smoke, and it made a very noticeable contrast to the clouds on the horizon, which were tinged by the light of the setting sun. The air was filled with a smell of sulphur, and all around there were bubbles rising from the water as though the entire sea was impregnated with gas. We sailed quite near the place where the smoke was rising, and had an excellent view of it. When the eruption began there were thousands on thousands of fish killed by the sulphur, and for some days the people from the islands used to go out and get them by the boat-load.
"An effect of an earthquake occurring near the sea," Doctor Bronson continued, "is the tidal wave that causes a great part of the destruction."
Fred asked what was the difference between a tidal wave and an ordinary one.
"The tide, as you know," the Doctor replied, "is the rising and falling of the waters of the ocean, and the seas and bays that extend from it. The ordinary wave is caused by the action of the wind blowing upon the flat surface of the water, while the tidal wave is not. In most instances where an earthquake occurs near the sea, there is a rush of water in a wave more or less great—first upon the land, and then away from it.
"In 1868 there was an earthquake on the west coast of South America, which furnishes an excellent example of what I have mentioned. At first the ground shook with a frightful noise; the whole chain of the mountains in the distance trembled like reeds in the wind, and it was apparent to every one that a frightful disturbance was at hand. The United States steamer Wateree was at anchor in the harbor of Arica, Peru, and one of her officers has since told me of the earthquake. He says the sea was perfectly calm at the time, and from the decks of the ship they could see the town shaking to pieces, and the hills that formed the harbor crumbling and throwing down great masses of rock.
"Several shocks followed, with little intervals, until two-thirds of Arica lay in ruins. The ships sent their boats ashore with surgeons to assist the wounded, but they had hardly landed before the water began to recede as though the tide was running out. It reached the point of low tide, and then began to rise again; and it kept on and on till it had reached a point thirty-four feet above high-water mark; it overflowed the town, poured through the streets, and flooded many of the houses. Then it flowed back again as fast as it had risen, and carried with it the custom-house, the residence of the English consul, and other buildings. Hundreds of the people had rushed to the mole or landing, and as the water swept out through the harbor they were carried with it, and many of them were drowned.
UNITED STATES WAR-STEAMER "WATEREE," STRANDED AT ARICA IN 1868.
"It was an awful spectacle, enough to terrify the bravest man that ever lived. Again the water rose to the same height as before, and again it fell, carrying with it houses, merchandise, and even a locomotive and some cars that were standing on the railway track. Altogether there were eleven of these waves, and then there was another shock of an earthquake, lasting about eight minutes, accompanied by repeated rolls of thunder and loud rumblings. This was followed by a rush of water from the ocean; it came on in a great wall breasted with foam, and poured over the land like an avalanche. Nothing could stand against it; the anchor-chains of the ships were snapped like threads, and the Wateree and three or four other ships in port were swept inland and stranded. The sea retired and left her high and dry about four hundred yards inland, in a position where it was impossible to get her afloat again; the same was the case with an English vessel and a Peruvian gun-boat; but the American store-ship Fredonia was less fortunate. She was knocked to pieces on the rocks, and all on board were lost; her captain and four of the crew were ashore at the time, and were saved."
Frank asked if there had ever been any earthquakes in the United States, and if so, whether they amounted to much.
"The United States," the Doctor replied, "can hardly be included among the lands of the earthquake, though we are not by any means exempt from slight shocks. San Francisco has about a dozen disturbances in a year, but they rarely amount to much. Now and then the walls of some of the houses are cracked, and a few are thrown down; the people are more or less frightened, and many threaten to move away in consequence, but very few do so. East of the Rocky Mountains there have been a few shocks, the most violent being in a period of about fifteen months from December 16th, 1811. Philadelphia, Baltimore, Boston, New York, Washington, and other cities as far south as Savannah, were shaken on several occasions, and the earthquakes extended as far west as the Mississippi. New Madrid, in Missouri, seemed to be the centre of the disturbance. Fissures six or eight feet across were opened in the ground, and the land around New Madrid sunk about twelve feet below its former level. It is said that in some places the channel of the great river was changed, and lakes were formed where none had been before. But no lives were lost, and no great damage resulted from these earthquakes; and since that time we have had only an occasional slight trembling in some of the eastern States."
The clock indicated the hour of bedtime, and the talk about earthquakes and their mysteries came to an abrupt end.