Hastily gathering together my necessary field equipment with transportation and orders, I departed for my destination with a feeling akin to that of the small boy on his first excursion from home. Alighting from the street car on the escolta near the old bridge of Spain, I purchased some periodicals and a large sombrero, then, engaging a caramato, was driven to the Tondo station, where I boarded a first-class coach for Bocaue.
After a wearisome ride through stifling humidity, over rice-dikes and through jungle, I arrived at my post of duty and immediately reported to the commanding officer of the detachment, after which I divested myself of my accoutrements and met the members of the survey party, consisting of about twenty-four soldiers, representing every branch of the United States army.
This aged edifice, with its mysterious subterranean vaults, its columns of Tuscan and Doric origin, and surrounded by balconies encompassed with ornamental balustrades, was occupied by the soldiers and used as headquarters by the topographical ensemble.
Prior to the Spanish-American war, this building had been a sanctuary of worship, the abode of mendicant friars. At the time of the insurrection, the old monastery was occupied as headquarters by General Aguinaldo, until compelled to relinquish his stronghold by the American troops.
Expert Filipino draughtsmen were employed in the plottings of the survey, their work in delineating offsets being admirably executed.
The circuitous route our journey necessitated through mountains, jungle, and across innumerable streams and ravines made it impossible to use ponies or caribou in the conveyance of our provisions, so that a contingent of native cargadores were employed in drawing a native cartello, which carried not only the provisions, but also the camp equipage, including our cooking utensils.
The entire party was divided into three sections, each section comprising one commissioned officer, eight enlisted men, and four brawny cargadores who handled the native cart or cartello. Each section had a separate circuit on which to work, these circuits penetrating jungle and mountainous country hitherto unexplored by the military. Provisions for two weeks were usually carried, the length of time it required in covering our territory.
My first duty in connection with this survey was recording the readings of the transit, operated by the officer in charge. Our route led through the “barrios” of Marilao, Santa Maria, Tomano, Buena Vista, San Jose, Bagbaguen, Prensa, and Santa Cruz, in the province of Bulacan. The heat endured on these expeditions was intense, especially along the rice-dikes, which were barren of foliage. Occasionally, when in the vicinity of a barrio where we had but one night to remain, instead of spreading canvas we bivouacked under the roof of some convenient casa. On one occasion, having worked until sundown, our cartello
was drawn alongside of an old native house of worship, in the barrio of Buena Vista, where a “fiesta” had been in progress for several days. Here, under the eaves of this sacred shrine, this soldier outfit dined “A la cartello.”
In the interior of this sanctuary, the flickering lights in a large candelabrum, at the base of the crucifix, shone dimly through the gloom. With a feeling of absolute safety, the soldiers spread their ponchos over the bamboo matting and, wrapped in blankets, reposed in peaceful slumber. There was nothing to disturb the tranquillity of this night until, shortly before the break of dawn, we were aroused by the tolling of the bells, and the chanting of the Ave Maria, uttered in solemn devotion by a long procession of natives garbed in ceremonious black, preceded by a señorita bearing a cross, flanked on either side by torch-bearers. As the procession moved slowly down the aisle, the soldiers arose from their unusual berth and, occupying seats, observed the ceremonies with respectful silence. These natives were the thoroughbred Tagalogs, the