Trade in molaze.My friendly host carried on no trifling business. Two English ships were at that moment in the harbor, which he was about to send to China laden with molave, a species of wood akin to teak.
Butucan waterfall.On my return I visited the fine waterfall of Butucan, between Mauban and Lucban, a little apart from the high road. A powerful stream flows between two high banks of rocky soil thickly covered with vegetation, and, leaping from a ledge of volcanic rock suddenly plunges into a ravine, said to be three hundred and sixty feet in depth, along the bottom of which it is hurried away. The channel, however, is so narrow, and the vegetation so dense, that an observer looking at it from above can not follow its course. This waterfall has a great similarity to that which falls from the Semeru in Java. Here, as there, a volcanic stream flowing over vast rocky deposits forms a horizontal watercourse, which in its turn is overshadowed with immense masses of rock. The water easily forces its way between these till it reaches the solid lava, when it leaves its high, narrow, and thickly-wooded banks, and plunges into the deep chasm it has itself worn away. The pouring rain unfortunately prevented me from sketching this fine fall. It was raining when I reached the convento of Majaijai, and it was still raining when I left it three days later, nor was there any hope of improvement in the weather for another month to come. “The wet season lasts for eight or nine months in Majaijai, and during the whole period scarcely a day passes without the rain falling in torrents.”—Estado geograph.
Majaijai.To ascend the volcano was under such circumstances impracticable. According to some notes written by the Majaijai priest, an ascent and survey of Mount Banajao was made on the 22nd of April, 1858, by Senors Roldan and Montero, two able Spanish naval officers, specially charged with the revision of the marine chart of the archipelago. From its summit they took observations of Manila cathedral, of Mayon, another volcano in Albay, and of the Island of Polillo. They estimated the altitude of Banajao to be seven thousand and twenty Spanish feet, and the depth of its crater to be seven hundred. The crater formerly contained a lake, but the last eruption made a chasm in its southern side through which the water flowed away.[8]
Calauan.I reached Calauan in the pouring rain, wading through the soft spongy clay upon wretched, half-starved ponies, and found I must put off my water journey to Manila till the following day, as there was no boat on the lake at this point. The next morning there were no horses to be found; and it was not till the afternoon that I procured a cart and a couple of carabaos to take me to Santa Cruz, whence in the evening the market-vessel started for Manila. One carabao was harnessed in front; the other was fastened behind the cart in order that I might have a change of animals when the first became tired. Carabao number one wouldn’t draw, and number two acted as a drag—rather useless apparatus on a level road—so I changed them. As soon as number two felt the load it laid down. A few blows persuaded it to pick itself up, when it deliberately walked to the nearest pool and dropped into it. It was with the greatest trouble that we unharnessed the cart and pushed it back on to the road, while our two considerate beasts took a mud bath. At last we reloaded the baggage, the carabaos were reharnessed in the original positions, and the driver, leaning his whole weight upon the nose-rope of the leading beast, pulled with might and main. To my great delight the animal condescended to slowly advance with the cart and its contents. Pila.At Pila I managed to get a better team, with which late in the evening, in the midst of a pouring rain, I reached a little hamlet opposite Santa Cruz. The market-vessel had left; our attempts to get a boat to take us across to the village only led to barefaced attempts at extortion, so I entered one of the largest of the hamlet’s houses, which was occupied by a widow and her daughter. After some delay my request for a night’s lodging was granted. I sent for some oil, to give me a little light, and something to eat. The women brought in some of their relations, who helped to prepare the food and stopped in the house to protect its owners. The next morning I crossed the river, teeming with joyous bathers, to Santa Cruz, and hired a boat there to take me across the lake to Pasig, and from thence to Manila. A contrary wind, however, forced us to land on the promontory of Jalajala, and there wait for the calm that accompanies the dawn. Earthquake evidences.Betwixt the extreme southern point of the land and the houses I saw, in several places, banks of mussels projecting at least fifteen feet above the surface of the water, similar to those which are so frequently found on the sea-coast;—a proof that earthquakes have taken place in this neighborhood.
[1] Voyage en Chine, vol. II., page 33.
[2] According to the report of an engineer, the sand banks are caused by the river San Mateo, which runs into the Pasig at right angles shortly after the latter leaves the Lagoon; in the rainy season it brings down a quantity of mud, which is heaped up and embanked by the south-west winds that prevail at the time. It would, therefore, be of little use to remove the sandbanks without giving the San Mateo, the cause of their existence, a direct and separate outlet into the lake.
[3] They take baths for their maladies, and have hot springs for this purpose, particularly along the shore of the king’s lake (Estang du Roy, instead of Estang de Bay by a printer’s mistake apparently), which is in the Island of Manila.—Thevenot.
[4] “One can scarcely walk thirty paces between Mount Makiling and a place called Bacon, which lies to the east of Los Baños, without meeting several kinds of natural springs, some very hot, some lukewarm, some of the temperature of the atmosphere, and some very cold. In a description of this place given in our archives for the year 1739, it is recorded that a hill called Natognos lies a mile to the south-east of the village, on the plateau of which there is a small plain 400 feet square, which is kept in constant motion by the volume of vapor issuing from it. The soil from which this vapor issues is an extremely white earth; it is sometimes thrown up to the height of a yard or a yard and a half, and meeting the lower temperature of the atmosphere falls to the ground in small pieces.”—Estado geograph., 1865.
[5] Pigafetta says that the natives, in order to obtain palm-wine, cut the top of the tree through to the pith, and then catch the sap as it oozes out of the incision. According to Regnaud, Natural History of the Coco-tree, the negroes of Saint Thomas pursue a similar method in the present day, a method that considerably injures the trees and produces a much smaller quantity of liquor. Hernandez describes an indigenous process of obtaining wine, honey, and sago from the sacsao palm, a tree which from its stunted growth would seem to correspond with the acenga saccharifera. The trees are tapped near the top, the soft part of the trunks is hollowed out, and the sap collects in this empty space. When all the juice is extracted, the tree is allowed to dry up, and is then cut into thin pieces which, after desiccation in the sun, are ground into meal.