"I will do my best," replied Max. "The men are not tall, but have good forms and well-shaped heads. Their looks are boyish, and they seem never to grow old. They have black, glossy hair that seldom grows gray. The women are graceful and rather good-looking. They usually wear their hair loose, and no hat or bonnet on their heads. Their dress is a satin skirt handsomely embroidered, and a waist of pina cloth, having flowing sleeves. They wear a scarf of the finest quality, and beautifully embroidered, about their neck and shoulders. An American lady there told me that they often spend years on the embroidery of a single garment, and that she and others of our ladies had gone into raptures over that work, but could seldom secure a specimen. They are very cleanly people—bathe a great deal, and keep their clothing very clean; their houses also are kept clean, neat, and tidy. The women sew, spin, weave, and gather thatch to keep the hut in repair. They also catch fish for the family to eat, and are skilful at that business. They carry burdens on their heads, and that makes them erect and graceful. A good many of both Spaniards and Chinamen have married Filipino women, and the children, called Mestizoes, make good citizens, seeming to inherit the patient industry of the Chinese father and the gentle disposition and dignified self-possession of the Filipino mother. But now I think I have done my share of talking for the present, and must leave the rest of you to do yours while I see if all is going right with our vessel," added Max, rising and leaving the group as he spoke.
"Uncle Harold, do you know the captain they call 'Fighting Bob'?" asked Ned.
"Slightly," returned his uncle, "and a brave, noble man he is—a naval officer to be proud of; perfectly fearless and cool in battle, kind and helpful to conquered foes. He was commander of the Iowa, to which the Spanish ship Vizcaya surrendered. Her captain, in a speech in Spain, had said that he would tow back the Iowa to his king; but he was not able to do so. The Iowa drove shell after shell into his vessel, till she was a mass of flames, and struck her flag.
"Then 'Fighting Bob' sent out his boats to rescue the prisoners on the ship and in the water, and took back to the Iowa several officers and two hundred and forty men, her captain, Eulate, among them. It is said to have been a horrible scene—so many dead and wounded men, and Captain Eulate, limping, and with his head bound up. He saluted as he stepped upon the deck of the Iowa, and so did Captain Evans.
"'You are Captain Evans? This is the Iowa?' asked Captain Eulate. 'Yes,' said Captain Evans, and took Eulate's hand in both of his, shaking it warmly. Eulate stepped back, unbuckled his sword, kissed it, and with the most elegant grace, handed it, hilt forward, to Captain Evans. But he refused to take it, turning the palm of his hand outward and waving it back, at the same time shaking his head—a very emphatic refusal.
"The Spaniards, officers and men, looked on in astonishment. Captain Eulate pressed Captain Evans' hand, and the crew gave Eulate three cheers, for he had fought well, and only gave up when his ship was in flames and sinking.
"Just then a terrific explosion was heard on the Vizcaya, which was only a short distance off, and a solid column of smoke went up nearly four thousand feet, it is said, taking the form of a gigantic mushroom. At that Captain Eulate turned around, pointing with one hand to his ruined ship, with the other toward his officers and men, 'Veeski! Veeski!' he cried at the top of his voice, while tears rolled down his cheeks. His men sprang toward him, and many of them kissed his hand. He said in Spanish, 'My brave marines!' and looked away."
"That was a very interesting story, uncle," said Elsie, as Dr. Travilla paused. "I hope there's more of it."
"Oh, yes, please go on, Uncle Harold," said Ned. "Our ships took all the Spanish ones, didn't they?"
"Yes; the Maria Teresa was now a wreck also, and the Iowa went to the relief of her drowning and burning men. Admiral Cervera was taken prisoner and brought on board the Iowa. When he stepped aboard, with his staff, Captain Evans stood with uncovered head, and the marine guard presented arms. Captain Eulate stepped toward him, touched his sword with his hand and pressed it to his breast, crying out in Spanish, pointing toward Captain Evans, evidently extolling his bravery and generosity. The admiral made a courtly bow to Captain Evans, and shook hands with him. The rest of the Spanish officers kissed the hand of the Spanish admiral four times, and embraced and kissed Captain Eulate. The men of the crew, too, would now and then see a comrade whom they had supposed dead, and they would fall to embracing and kissing."