"Governor, the Hillmen are the richest people I have ever seen."
The Governor was puzzled: "How?"
"They have everything they want. Land for the clearing, a spear, cotton growing wild on trees for such clothes as they wear, meat in the forest, bamboo to cut for shelter against wind and rain, upland rice springing up from barely scratched soils. No social striving, no politics, no taxes. All their wants are satisfied—was Croesus as rich?"
"Then you do not believe in civilizing them—it means introducing new wants—some of which they never will satisfy!"
"Yes, I do, Governor. Civilization means doctors, less suffering, longer life: schools and books: agriculture and better diet: commerce and clothes: churches, and morality—and soap!"
The day came when Terry and Deane drove down the San Ramon road where the Governor had preceded them, with Ellis and Susan and a score of the new friends they had made in Zamboanga. Wade had insisted that his spacious bungalow be the scene of their wedding.
Even before he had wrought the house into a fairy-land of palm and cadena and hibiscus the great flowered sweeps of lawn and grove set by the sea had been an ideal setting. Ellis, given his choice of functions, had elected to officiate as best man, so the Governor was happy in giving the bride away. Susan cried, as matrons of honor always do, as she stood with them in the fret-work of shadows under the palms which stirred gently in the off-sea breeze.
None of those most concerned remembered many of the details of the evening, excepting Matak, who met there a young Moro maid and found her fair.
They returned to Zamboanga under enchanting stars, and at nine o'clock they saw Ellis and Susan leave, for they were returning home at once through the Suez, taking steamer first for Borneo and Java. Their own boat left an hour later for Manila, Hong Kong and Nagasaki.
Bidding Ellis good-by, Terry woke from the dream in which he had moved through the afternoon.