A Flying Ferry in Operation.
Lewis had taken a number of Zamboanga Moros to the St. Louis Exposition and had also assumed charge of the Lake Lanao Moros there when their manager misbehaved and it became necessary to dispense with his services. He had looked after his people so carefully and so well that some of the hardened old sinners from Lake Lanao actually wept when they parted company with him on the beach after their return from the United States! He was a tireless rider, and the country which he was to govern was a horseman’s country par excellence.
Our transportation for the trip was in charge of a Filipino lieutenant of constabulary, named Manual Fortich, and I was not greatly pleased with this arrangement, as we had a hard journey ahead of us which might be rendered difficult or even dangerous by lack of efficiency on the part of the man who looked after our saddle animals and our carriers. I soon learned, however, that no better man could have been selected for this task.
We marched at daylight, as is my custom when travelling overland in the provinces. At midnight a mounted Filipino messenger, sent by the caciques of Cagayan, had started ahead of us to frighten the people of the towns which we proposed to visit so that they would take to the hills. In this he was partially successful. When we reached the small settlement of Tancuran late in the afternoon, after a hard day’s work, the only inhabitants left were a few old cripples who had been too sick or too feeble to run away. However, many of those who had fled were hiding in the underbrush near by. Lieutenant Fortich, who had already made himself invaluable to us, soon rounded up quite a number of them, and they were in turn despatched for their friends.
This little village was in a deplorable state of abandonment. Only a few of its houses were habitable. It had been well laid out by some good Jesuit missionary priest, but its streets and plaza were choked with a jungle of tropical vegetation through which ran trails resembling deer paths! There was absolutely nothing growing in the vicinity which could furnish food for a human being.
Lieutenant Fortich ultimately got together quite an audience for me. We squatted around a cheerful camp-fire and discussed the past and the future until late at night. I was delighted to find that my auditors took a keen interest in my statements. They soon gained courage to tell me freely of the abuses which they had suffered, and while obviously not optimistic over my promises of better things, were evidently willing to be shown.
Just before we turned in Lieutenant Fortich asked me at what time I would like to start in the morning. I said “five o’clock.” He replied, “Very well.” While his remarks were gratifyingly in accord with the biblical injunction to “let your conversation be yea, yea; nay, nay,” I feared that he did not fully comprehend the difficulties involved in an early start, so decided to take a hand myself when the time came. I accordingly arose at three-thirty A.M., and nearly fainted when I found that the horses were already munching their grain and, wonder of wonders, that the carriers were eating their breakfast. The usual thing is to be informed, when you are about an hour on your way, that the carriers have had no breakfast, and to be forced to sit down and wait while they cook and eat their morning meal. I went back to bed, convinced that I had discovered a new kind of Filipino constabulary officer. I got up again at four o’clock, dressed, and went to the table at four-thirty, finding a piping hot meal ready. When at five o’clock I descended the stairs of the house where I had spent the night, my horse was saddled and waiting at the gate. All I had to do was to climb aboard. Meanwhile I had not heard an order given, or a word spoken in a tone above that of ordinary conversation. Throughout the trip Lieutenant Fortich continued to display quiet efficiency. I jotted his name down in my mental notebook as that of a man to be used later. He is to-day the lieutenant-governor of Bukidnon, and a most faithful, competent and efficient public officer.
During my first day’s ride I had had a decidedly startling experience. On leaving the sea beach one climbs rather abruptly for some nine hundred feet and then comes out on a wonderful plain. After riding over this beautiful stretch of level country for some time I could not longer resist the temptation to attempt to take a panoramic series of views showing it, so dismounted, set up my camera and made three exposures, rotating the instrument so as to get a panoramic effect. I worked with my back toward my companions, and became so absorbed in my task that I failed to notice that they were moving on. When I finally turned around I discovered to my utter amazement that I was alone, save for the carrier who packed my camera and plates. In every direction an apparently unbroken plain stretched for miles, and there was not another human being in sight. My companions had disappeared from off the face of the earth. I actually began to fear that I had taken leave of my senses. Nothing which has ever befallen me has given me such a curious sensation. However, one tangible thing remained; to wit, a well-marked trail through the grass. I followed it, and before I had gone three hundred yards came to the brink of a precipitous cañon down the wall of which my companions were zigzagging. From the point where I had taken my photographs it was absolutely impossible to detect the existence of this narrow crack in the earth. We soon learned, to our sorrow, that this first cañon was only one of many.
At its bottom was a raging torrent which we forded with difficulty. My fool horse got frightened and turned down-stream where the current was swiftest, and I narrowly escaped taking an impromptu trip down rapids which would have hammered me into insensibility against the rocks.