In the early morning we all got into automobiles again and ran over fine roads built since the American occupation. We left the China Sea and crossed the island to the Pacific, climbing a wonderful tropical mountain, where, by the way, we nearly backed off a precipice because our brakes refused to work, and we frightened a horse as we whizzed on to Antimonan. The churches here had towers something like Chinese pagodas, and the big lamps inside were covered with Mexican silver. All these island towns have a presidente and a board of governors, called consejales, and each province has a governor.
Manila hemp is one of the principal products of this prosperous province, and it is chiefly used to make rope. The plant from which this hemp is made looks very much like a banana plant. The stalk is stripped and only the tough fibers are used. They employ the cocoanut a good deal to make oil, which is obtained from the dried meat, called copra. They had a procession of their products here at Antimonan, which was very interesting.
The hemp and cigar importations were first carried on by Salem captains in the fifties. The great American shipping firm in those days was Russell, Sturgis, Oliphant and Company. The Philippines were out of the line of travel, however, and few people went there except for trade. In fact, as far as I know, only one book was written by an American about the islands before the American occupation.
On the Rizal next morning, when I looked out of my porthole at dawn, it seemed to me as if I were gazing at an exquisite Turner painting. Mount Mayon[24] was standing there majestically, superb in its cloak of silver mist, which changed to fiery red. It is the most beautiful mountain in the world, more perfect in outline than Fuji. Mrs. Dickinson was so inspired by its beauty that she wrote a poem, a stanza of which I give:
"Mount Mayon, in lonely grandeur,
Rises from a sea of flame,
Type of bold, aggressive manhood,
Lifting high a famous name
'Bove the conflict of endeavour
Ranging round its earthly base,
Where heartache and failure ever
Stand hand-clasped face to face."
LANDING AT TOBACO.
Our landing at Tobaco was made in the most novel way. As the water was shallow and the Rizal could not get into the dock, three carabaos hitched to a wagon waded out till only their noses could be seen; we stepped on to the two-wheeled cart and sat in state on chairs while we wiggle-waggled through the water to the shore. There we went to the town hall and had a banquet with many brown men and a few little brown women. The governor of the province spoke, and General Bandholtz responded in Spanish for the Secretary, who had gone ahead to close a government coal mine that was not proving successful. After the banquet we had an enchanting automobile ride, through quaint villages at the foot of the great mountain to Albay, where a review of the scouts was held by the Secretary in the setting sun.
When our party dispersed for dinner L. and I were "farmed out" to the superintendent of schools, Mr. Calkins. The houses built for Americans were all of wood with broad piazzas, much like summer cottages at home, with the hall in which we dined in the center and the bedrooms leading off it.
So much has been written about the schools and the wonders in education in the Philippines that I shall not try to enlarge on this interesting theme, other than to add my tribute to the government and the teachers, and also to the people who are wise enough to take advantage of the opportunities offered. Each little Juan and Maria, with their desire to learn, may soon put to shame little John and Mary, if the latter are not careful.