Adventures in the Philippine Islands

by Paul P. de La Gironière

“Take courage, boys, we shall reach the shore.”

Our position then became much worse, for night set in. The rain continued to pour in torrents, the wind increased in fury. From time to time we received some light from globes of fire, like what the sailors call “Saint Elmo’s fire.” While these rays of light continued I looked as far around me as I could, and only perceived an immense body of water in furious agitation. For nearly two hours we were tossed about by the waves that drove us towards the beach, and, at a moment when we least expected it, we found ourselves driven into the midst of an extensive grove of lofty bamboos. I then knew that we were over the land, and that the lake had inundated the country for several miles around. We were up to our breasts in water, and it was not in our power to pass through the inundation. The darkness was too great to allow us to go in any direction; our canoe was no longer of any use to us, as it was entangled among the bamboos. We climbed up the trees as well as we could, even to the height where the bamboos end in sharp points; our bodies were much torn by the sharp thorns growing on the small branches; the rain continued to pour without intermission; the wind still blowed, and each gust caused the bamboos to bend, the flexible branches of which tore our bodies and faces. I have suffered a great deal in the course of my life, but no night ever appeared to me so long and cruel as this! Joachim Balthazard then recovered his speech, and, in a trembling, broken voice, said to me:

“Ah! Don Pablo, do write I beg of you, to my mother, and tell her the tragical end of her son!”

I could not help answering him: “You cowardly rascal! Do you think, then, that I am more at my ease than you are? Hold your tongue, otherwise I shall make you turn diver, so that I may never hear you again.” Poor Joachim then knew what to do, and did not utter a word; only from time to time he made us aware of his trouble by his deep moans.

The wind, which was blowing from the north-west, towards four o’clock in the morning suddenly changed to the east, and shortly afterwards gave over. It was almost daylight: we were saved. We could at last see one another; all four of us looked in a wretched condition; our clothes being torn to pieces. Our bodies were lacerated, and covered with deep scratches. The cold had penetrated into the very marrow of our bones, and the long bath we had taken had wrinkled the skin; we looked just like drowned people taken out of the water, where they had been for some hours. Nevertheless, crippled as we were, we slipped down from the bamboos, and were soon bathing in the waters of the lake. The effect was healthful and agreeable: it seemed like a warm bath at 30 degrees of heat.

We were quite restored by this mild temperature. We got our canoe out of the grove, where fortunately it had been caught so fast that neither the waves nor the currents could drive it any farther. We again set it afloat, and soon succeeded in reaching an Indian hut, where we dried ourselves, and recruited our strength. Calm was now re-established; the sun shone in all its splendour, but everywhere traces of the typhoon were visible. In the course of the day we reached Jala-Jala, where our arrival caused great joy. They knew at home that I was on the lake, and everything led them to presume that I had perished. My good and dear Anna threw herself into my arms in tears; she had been in such anxiety for my safety, that for some moments the tears that flowed down her cheeks alone expressed her joy at again seeing me.

Balthazard returned to his seraglio. As long as he was under my protection the Indians respected him, but after my departure from Jala-Jala he was assassinated; and all those who knew him agreed that he had deserved his fate for more than one cause.

As I have mentioned this typhoon, I am going to anticipate a little, in describing, as briefly as possible, a still more frightful one than that which I experienced in my slight canoe and in the bamboo grove.

I had just completed some pretty baths upon the lake opposite my house. I was quite satisfied and proud of procuring this new pleasure for my wife. On the very day that the Indians had added the last ornaments to them, towards evening a western wind began to blow furiously; by degrees the waters of the lake became agitated, and shortly we no longer doubted but that we were going to have a typhoon.

My brother and I stayed some time examining, through the panes of glass, whether the baths would resist the strength of the wind, but in a heavy squall my poor edifice disappeared like a castle made of cards. We withdrew from the window, and luckily too, for a heavier squall than that which had destroyed the baths burst in the windows that faced to the west. The wind drove through the house, and opened a way for itself, by throwing down all the wall over the entrance-door. The lake was so agitated that the waves went over my house, and inundated all the apartments. We were not able to remain there any longer. By assisting each other, my wife, my brother, a young Frenchman who was then staying at Jala-Jala, and myself, succeeded in reaching a room on the ground-floor; the light came from a very small window; there, in almost total darkness, we spent the greater part of the night, my brother and I leaning our shoulders against the window, opposing with all our strength that of the wind, which threatened to force it in. In this small room there were several jars of brandy: my excellent Anna poured some into the hollow of her hand, and gave it us to drink, to support our strength and to warm us. At break of day the wind ceased, and calm re-appeared. All the furniture and decorations of my house were broken and shattered to pieces; all the rooms were inundated, and the store-rooms were full of sand, carried there by the waters of the lake. Soon my house became an asylum for my colonists, who had all spent a wretched night, and were without shelter.