"I left Manila to visit my brother in the provinces. Traveling in those days was very different from what it is now. After leaving the Manila-Dagupan Railroad there were no motors to go up the mountain; instead of that, I rode an ancient American horse till I was tired and burning with the sun. Then my brother put me in a bull cart, and I sat on the floor of that till the sun was preferable to the bumping. I arrived at four in the afternoon and was put down in an empty room with my trunk and a packing box. Being a good army girl, that packing box had all the elements of comfort, but first there was cleaning to be done. My brother was the commanding officer in that town, his house being at the corner of the Plaza, and an outpost. So he sent me a police party—that is, ten native prisoners and an American sentry; they were armed with brooms and buckets. I said, 'Sentry, this room is very dirty. The Captain sent these men here to clean it for me.' 'Yes, mam,' said the sentry. 'Well,' I told him, 'I want the ceiling cleaned first, even the corners!' He turned to his gentle prisoners with 'Here, hombres, you shinny up that pole and limpia those corners!' He didn't know much Spanish, but limpia means clean, and is the one essential word. I soon unpacked my box and turned it into an organdie-draped dressing table, after out of it had come all that made the room livable.
"That night I was sleeping the sleep of the very tired when I was awakened by a blood-curdling shout, a gun was thrown to the floor, and a man's voice yelled for help. I simply froze—I couldn't move hand or foot. The voice was in the outpost guard room, just under my own. Of course, I was sure the whole guard was overpowered and being boloed. I waited for them to come to me as I lay there. Then I heard a man's voice call from an upstairs window, 'What's the matter down there?' and the answer, 'Number Four had a nightmare, sir—thought there was a goat on his bunk.' Just as I was going to sleep again I threw out my hand in my restlessness, and to my horror, clasped it round a cold, shiny boa-constrictor. Every large house has one in the garret to keep down the rats. This time I gave the scream and sprang out of bed. But no snake was to be found, and I decided it must have been the bed post. But what a night that was!"
We reëmbarked at Legaspi and sailed on to the island of Samar, which is in the typhoon belt. Catbalogan is a town which has been visited by very severe typhoons and terrible plagues, but by very few people. It is a small place, far away and forgotten, but the island of Samar is where the massacre of the Ninth Infantry occurred—the massacre at Balangiga by the natives in 1902. There were triumphal arches of bamboo and flowers, and speeches in the town hall, Governor Forbes speaking in both English and Spanish. Afterward eight small boys and girls dressed in red, white and blue danced for us enchantingly the Charcca and the Jota, clicking their little heels and snapping their little fingers in true Spanish style. Delicious sweetmeats were offered on the veranda, real native dishes, and we drank cocoanut milk and ate cocoanut candy, preserves, nuts and cakes. Two half-Chinese girls who spoke English took very good care of us.
As we left we looked out over the sea to the setting sun and watched a lonely fisherman standing on a rock throwing his net.
Next morning from the Rizal, we saw across a stretch of calm water the blue ranges of the mountains of Bohol. Native bancas glided silently about, and a straw-sailed boat drifted idly round the point, where the picturesque gray walls of the oldest Spanish fort in the Philippines stood guard. Its sentinel houses at the corners were all moss grown, and pretty pink flowers were breaking out of the crevices of the rocks.
We landed at Cebu, which is the oldest town in the Islands, and passed down a street lined with ancient houses whose second stories arcaded the sidewalk. They were all in good condition, in spite of their age, for they were built of the wonderful hard woods that last forever. In fact, Cebu has the look of a new and prosperous place, for there have been fires which burnt up many of the ramshackle houses and gave a chance to widen the streets and replace the old structures with permanent looking buildings. The American government has done wonders in deepening the harbour and building a sea wall, behind which concrete warehouses are going up.
There was a scramble to a review near the barracks, then another scramble to a reception at the house of the colonel commanding—a very nice but hot occasion—and then still another scramble to the dedication of a really excellent schoolhouse.
A young priest took us to see the famous idol, the small black infant Christ. We went to the convent of the Dominicans near the church, and passed through its pretty, unkempt court, up a staircase with treads and handrail richly carved in a wood which was hard as iron, and black with age. It was handsome work, such as we had been looking for and hadn't seen before. In the sacristy, too, and the robing room, there were screens and paneling with richly detailed carvings. Passing down the galleries of the convent, where we could see some of the friars at work, we entered the special chapel where this holy image is kept. Several doors were taken off a rather gaudily gilded altar, until at last the little figure was revealed. Its back was toward the room and it had to be carefully turned—a small, brown, wooden doll, all dressed in cloth of gold, and bejeweled like the Bambino of Rome. It is considered a most sacred and wonderful heaven-sent idol.[25]
As we had heard speeches by Filipinos and head hunters, I was curious to know what the Chinese would have to say, and that night there was an opportunity to find out, for we were invited to a dinner given by the Chinese merchants. I quote from the speech made by Mr. Alfonso Zarata Sy Cip, which was specially interesting:
"The Chinese have traded with these Islands since long before Confucius and Mencius," said Mr. Sy Cip; "and for centuries we have been coming here and assimilating with the Filipinos, and to-day we are deeply interested in the welfare of the country. The Chinese have been called a nation of traders, the Jews of the East, but we are more than traders. We are labourers, artisans, farmers, manufacturers, and producers.