Until we reached Malaybalay the conditions encountered in the several villages through which we passed were similar to those which we had found at Tanculan: houses abandoned for the most part, and always in a lamentable state of neglect; sanitary conditions very bad; streets and plazas overgrown; an abundance of coffee bushes in some of the villages, but no visible source of food supply anywhere, except for a few scraggly banana plants.
At the outset we had found all the villages deserted, but in each case had managed to get some of the people back and hold a friendly interview with them. The “grapevine telegraph” got to working, and soon they began to await our arrival. At Malaybalay they gave us quite an ovation. This town was comparatively clean; the grass on the plaza was neatly cut. All in all, conditions were so encouraging that I decided that it should be the capital of the subprovince.
The following day we continued our journey to Linabo, where I heard of a Filipino engaged, as usual, in terrorizing the inhabitants and taking their products from them. I twice sent him courteous requests to come to see me, and then had him unceremoniously brought into my presence. He was carrying an ugly looking, heavy-calibre six-shooter. I demanded the document which justified his possession of this weapon, and as he could produce nothing more satisfactory than a note from the governor of Misamis authorizing him to use it in that province, I took his gun away from him. He assumed a threatening attitude and warned me that he was a friend of the provincial governor, but I told him that he was not a friend of mine, and started him on his way to the coast.
This occurrence was known throughout Bukidnon within three days, and as the man in question was influential the fact that his claws had been at least temporarily trimmed greatly encouraged the people.
From Linabo we returned by a different route, visiting the old settlement of Sumilao, the site of the original Jesuit mission in Bukidnon, and spending a day in endeavouring to reach a constantly disappearing village named Nanca. We had gathered from the written report of a lieutenant of the United States army that Nanca was distant from Sumilao about two hours’ ride. We reached it after dark, having travelled steadily throughout the day except for some thirty minutes taken for lunch, and having, I firmly believe, broken the world’s record for the number of cañons encountered in the course of a fourteen-hour ride.
Nanca proved to be a very interesting Bukidnon village, as its people retained their picturesque tribal dress and most of their primitive customs. I became much interested in finding out about its organization, and the part that each family took in its affairs, and asked the persons present what each man did. I finally came to a particularly fine-looking white-haired individual, and when I inquired about him my informant replied: “Oh, he does not do anything. He is a philosopher!” Then the crowd shouted with laughter. We decided that the Bukidnons were not without a sense of humor.
A hard half day’s ride brought us back to Cagayan de Misamis, and I sailed at once for Manila, leaving Lieutenant-Governor Lewis to face his difficult task alone. As I had anticipated, trouble promptly began. The wealthiest people of Cagayan had always lived off the unfortunate Bukidnons, and had no intention of relaxing their grip. I have deeply regretted that I did not myself visit the remaining villages in the valley of the Cagayan River and explain to their inhabitants the change in their fortunes. Agents of the Cagayan caciques had been busy there while I was occupied on the other side of the subprovince, and shortly after my arrival at Manila a telegram was received from the provincial governor, saying that the Bukidnons were asking for a brown governor, instead of a white one, and were reported to be preparing ropes and poison with which to commit suicide.
Now these simple people of the hills had no intention of committing suicide, nor did they want “a brown governor.” Their petitions were prepared by Cagayan caciques and they were forced to sign them.
In the part of the subprovince which I had visited the conspirators against the new government made little headway. Nevertheless their vicious activities continued, and later, on several occasions, they succeeded in frightening the people of one or another of the then rapidly growing towns so badly that they took to the hills, and Mr. Lewis had to hunt them up and persuade them to come back again, which he always succeeded in doing.
When I returned to inspect Bukidnon a year later, I found that a marvellous change had already been brought about. Model villages had taken the place of the ramshackle affairs which I had found on my first visit. The houses were grouped around spacious plazas on which the grass had been so carefully cut that they had already begun to look like lawns. Streets were kept so clean that one could literally pick up a dropped pin without the slightest difficulty. Where the streets reached the open prairie, bars were provided to keep stray animals out of town. Every yard was neatly fenced. All domestic animals were properly confined if not out at pasture. Every village was perfectly drained, the slope of the land being such that all drainage promptly ran off onto the prairie. Yards were immaculately clean and were planted with useful food-producing crops. Little cultivated fields were already beginning to appear near the outskirts of the towns. This latter change greatly delighted me. These poor, ignorant people had always believed that the prairie soil was worthless for agricultural purposes, and that in order to grow crops it was necessary for them to go to the distant mountains, clear forest land and plant it. Furthermore, they had been quite unable to break the prairie sod and bring the underlying soil under cultivation with such simple agricultural implements as they possessed.