Our friend Hatchie Katsie accompanied us to the shore when we embarked. Chin Chi parted with us most unwillingly. He longed to see more of the wonders of the world; but even had his father been ready to let him go, we could not have ventured to carry him away publicly in opposition to the laws of the country.
Once more we were at sea. “Homeward! homeward!” was the cry; but we had still a long way to sail and many places to visit before we could get there. Steering south, we came to an anchor before the city of Manilla, the capital of the Philippine Islands, the largest of which is Lujon. They belong to Spain, having been taken possession of in 1565. They are inhabited by a variety of savage tribes, most of whom have been converted by their conquerors to the Roman Catholic faith. The capital stands on a low plain near a large lake, which has numerous branches, now converted into canals. Hills rise in the distance, and behind them ranges of lofty mountains, clothed to their summits with luxuriant vegetation. The number of Europeans is very small compared to that of the half-castes and aborigines. There are said to be forty
thousand of those industrious people, the Chinese, who appear now to be finding their way into every country on the shores of the Pacific where employment can be procured. The largest manufactory at Manilla is that of cigars. The city appeared to be in a somewhat dilapidated condition, the churches and public buildings, especially, were fast falling into decay.
We, as usual, were fortunate, and got a trip, through the kindness of an English merchant, up the lake and a good way into the interior, when we could not help wondering at the magnificent display of tropical vegetation which we beheld. We also saw three of the most ferocious animals of the country. Scarcely had we landed when, as with our friend and several Indian attendants we were proceeding along the hanks of the stream, our friend wished to send a message to a cottage on the opposite side to desire the attendance of the master as a guide. There was a ford near, but the Indian who was told to go said he would swim his horse across.
“Take care of the cayman,” was the warning given by all.
“Oh, I care not for caymans; I would fight with a dozen of them!” was the answer given, we were told.
The lake and rivers running into it abound with these savage monsters, a species of alligator or crocodile. The man forced his horse into the stream and swam on some way. Suddenly we were startled with the cry of “A cayman! a cayman! Take care, man!” The Indian threw himself from his horse and swam boldly to the bank, leaving his poor steed to become the prey of the monster. The cayman made directly for the horse, and seized him with his huge jaws by the body. The poor steed’s shriek of agony sounded in our ears, but fortunately for him the saddle-girth gave way, and he struggled free, leaving the tough leather alone in the brute’s mouth, and swam off to shore. The cayman, not liking the morsel, looked about for something more to his taste.
The Indian had reached the bank, but instead of getting out of the water, he stood in a shallow place behind a tree, and, drawing his sword, declared that he was ready to fight the cayman. The monster open-mouthed made at him; but the man in his folly struck at its head. He might as well have tried to cut through a suit of ancient armour. The next instant, to our horror, the cayman had him shrieking in his jaws, and with his writhing body disappeared beneath the surface of the stream!
After this our journey was enlivened by all sorts of horrible accounts of adventures with caymans, till we neared the spot where we expected to find some buffaloes. As we rode along we heard an extraordinary cry. “It is a wild boar,” exclaimed our friend; “but I suspect a boa has got hold of him—a great bore for him, I suspect.” We rode to the spot whence the sound came. There, sure enough, suspended from the low branch of a tree was a huge boa-constrictor, some twenty feet