“Well, they say a miss is as good as a mile,” responded Gilbert, with a faint smile. “But I am thankful to God that I escaped,” he added earnestly.
It was nightfall before the second battalion was landed over the river; and then the other regular companies came in, bringing with them nine prisoners, including two that were wounded. The battalion had had several men wounded, but none seriously.
“I fancy this is our last round-up in Luzon,” said Major Morris to Captain Banner and Gilbert. “If all goes well, we ought to reach Manila by to-morrow evening.”
The night was spent in the village of Giguenen, where there was a small garrison of American volunteers; and here the prisoners were lodged in the local jail, until the authorities at Manila should decide what was to be done with them.
The storm cleared away during the night; and travelling the next day was, consequently, a little better, although the roads were still almost impassable. In some spots the carts could not get through with their loads; and the men had to “ferry” the goods across, the turnouts coming over empty.
“I believe the Philippines want good roads more than anything else,” observed Gilbert. “In all the time I’ve been here I’ve hardly seen a decent highway outside of Manila.”
“We are bound for a country where the roads are still worse,” returned Captain Banner. “I’ve been reading up on China lately, and I’ve learned that there is hardly a respectable highway in the whole Celestial Kingdom. Even the streets of Pekin, the great capital, are out of repair, and have been for centuries.”
“And yet Chinese labor costs next to nothing. I can’t understand it.”
“The common people don’t want to pay out a single cash for public improvements, that’s the reason. Besides that, there comes up the old Chinese saying that ‘what was good enough for my father and grandfather is good enough for me.’”
“They must be a terribly backward nation.”