The Boy Travellers in the Far East

PART THIRD

ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN A JOURNEY

TO

CEYLON AND INDIA

WITH DESCRIPTIONS OF BORNEO, THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS

AND BURMAH

BY

THOMAS W. KNOX

AUTHOR OF

"THE YOUNG NIMRODS" "CAMP-FIRE AND COTTON-FIELD" "OVERLAND THROUGH ASIA"

"UNDERGROUND" "JOHN" "HOW TO TRAVEL" ETC.

Illustrated

NEW YORK

HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE

1882

to Act of Congress, in the year 1881, by

HARPER & BROTHERS,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

All rights reserved.

PREFACE

This volume completes the series of "The Boy Travellers in the Far East." It attempts to describe Ceylon and India, together with Borneo, the Philippine Islands, and Burmah, in the same manner that the preceding volumes gave an account of Japan, China, Siam, Java, Cochin-China, Cambodia, and the Malay Archipelago.

Frank and Fred have continued their journey under the guidance of Doctor Bronson, and the plan of their travels is identical with that previously followed. The words of the last preface may be repeated in this: "The incidents of the narrative were mainly the experiences of the author at a recent date; and the descriptions of countries, cities, temples, people, manners, and customs are nearly all from his personal observations and notes. He has endeavored to give a faithful account of Ceylon, India, Burmah, and the Philippine Islands as they appear to-day, and trusts that the only fiction of the book is in the names of the individuals who tell the story."

As in the foregoing volumes, the narrative has been interrupted occasionally, in order to introduce matters of general interest to juvenile readers. The author hopes that the chapters on meteors, sea-serpents, and outrigger boats will meet the same welcome that was accorded to the episode of a whaling voyage, in the first volume, and the digressions concerning naval architecture, submarine explorations, and the adventures of Marco Polo, in the second.

The publishers have kindly allowed the use of illustrations that have appeared in previous publications, in addition to those specially prepared for this volume. The author has consulted the works of previous travellers in the Far East to supplement his own information, and is under obligations to several of them. As in the last volume, he is specially indebted to Mr. Frank Vincent, Jr., author of "The Land of the White Elephant," for his descriptions of Burmah, and for the use of several of the engravings relative to that country. Other authorities have been generally credited in the text of the work, or in foot-notes to the pages where quotations are made.

In their departure from Bombay, Frank and Fred have left the Far East behind them; but, as they are yet a long way from home, they can hardly be said to have finished their travels. It is quite possible that they may be heard from again, in the company of their good friend, the Doctor, and may allow us, as they have heretofore, to glance at their letters to friends at home.

T. W. K.

CONTENTS.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Map to accompany "The Boy Travellers in the Far East"

[CHAPTER I.]

DEPARTURE FROM JAVA.—VOYAGE TO BORNEO.

The conference over the route to be followed from Batavia was long and animated. Frank and Fred each proposed at least a dozen plans, but as fast as a scheme was suggested it was overthrown in consequence of unforeseen difficulties.

While they were in the midst of their discussion, Doctor Bronson left the room, and soon returned with a newspaper in his hand. The boys looked up, and by the smile on his face they at once understood that he held the solution of the puzzle. So they pushed aside the maps, and waited for him to speak.

"We start to-morrow morning," said the Doctor, "and must send our heavy baggage away in an hour."

"All right," responded the boys, cheerily; "we can be ready in half that time if necessary," Fred added, as he rose from the table, and was followed by Frank.

True to their promise, they were back again in less than half an hour, and declared that all was ready. The Doctor had been occupied with his trunks while the boys were preparing their effects, and as he had more to attend to than they, he was not quite as prompt. But before the end of the hour he joined them, and then the porter of the hotel was summoned to take away the baggage and see it safely on board the steamer.

"Now we shall know where we're going," said Frank,"and I suppose the Doctor's newspaper has something to do with our movements."

"Quite correct," the Doctor responded; "it has very much to do with them."

Then he opened the sheet, which was nothing more nor less than a paper printed at Batavia, in the Dutch language. He directed their attention to an advertisement, and they were not long in spelling it out and divining its meaning. It was to the effect that a steamer was to sail early the next day for Borneo and the Philippine Islands. The Doctor explained that he was fortunate enough to find the captain of this vessel in the office of the hotel, and had arranged for them to take passage on her to Sarawak and Manilla.

"I understand," said Frank, "Sarawak is in Borneo, and Manilla is the capital of the Philippine Islands. We shall visit both those places."

"Yes," replied Doctor Bronson, "the steamer goes first to Sarawak, where she has a lot of cargo to leave, and perhaps some to take, and then she proceeds to Manilla. If you study the map you will see that Sarawak is almost on a direct line from Batavia to Manilla."

They looked at the map, and found it as the Doctor had stated. Fred wished to learn something about Borneo, but the Doctor suggested they would have plenty of time for that on the voyage, and they had better devote the evening to a farewell drive through Batavia. The boys at once assented to the proposal, and as soon as a carriage could be called they were off.

CHINESE HORSE SHOEING.

Their drive led them along the broad avenues of Batavia, and close to the banks of one of the canals where a number of boys were enjoying an afternoon bath. Then they passed through a part of the Chinese quarter where Frank and Fred were greatly amused at the operation of shoeing a horse. The unhappy beast was tied between a couple of upright posts, and partially suspended from a horizontal beam, so that he had very little chance to kick or struggle. Evidently he had given up all idea of resistance, as he stood with his eyes half closed, and presented a general appearance of resignation.

Our friends returned to the hotel in good season for dinner, which contained the inevitable curry to which the boys had become accustomed during their sojourn in the tropics. Frank asked if they would bid good-bye to curry in leaving Java; he was assured that the article was destined to figure on their bill of fare for an indefinite period, as the countries they were to visit were inhabited by eaters of curry no less than were Siam and Java.

They went early to bed, and by daylight on the following morning were up and ready for departure.

OUTWARD BOUND.

They rode in a carriage to the "boom," or pier, where a small boat was waiting to take them to the steamer. They went out by the same canal that they entered on their arrival, and by seven o'clock they were on board the Osprey, that was to be their home for several days. The captain was there ahead of them, and before eight o'clock they were outward bound, and leaving behind them the Island of Java, with its dense population and its wealth of natural products.

They watched the receding coast as long as it was in sight. Gradually it faded to a mere line on the horizon, and then disappeared altogether; but hardly had it vanished before they were in sight of Sumatra. All day they were within a few miles of its shores, and the boys longed greatly to make an exploration of this little-known region. They were obliged to be content with what they had learned of Sumatra on their journey to the southward, and recalled with pleasure the stories told them by their fellow-passenger on the steamer between Singapore and Batavia.

The adventures of our young friends, Frank Bassett and Fred Bronson, up to the time of their departure from Java, have been told in previous volumes.[1]

At the end of the first day the Osprey bore away to the eastward, near the island of Banca, famous for its mines of tin; and on the following morning the coast of Borneo was in sight. The boys declared their inability to discover any difference between Borneo and Sumatra when seen from the deck of a ship, as the general appearance of the land was the same.

"Very naturally that is the case," said the Doctor. "Both islands are tropical, and have the same characteristics in the way of mountains and valleys, and nearly all the trees of one are to be found on the other. The animal products are nearly alike, though the naturalists have found certain things in Borneo that do not exist in Sumatra, and vice versa. Now, tell me, please, which is the larger island of the two?"

"Borneo is the larger," Fred answered; "it is about 850 miles long by 650 broad in its widest part, and is estimated to contain nearly 300,000 square miles. Sumatra is 200 miles longer than Borneo, but only 250 wide, and its area is thought to be not far from 160,000 square miles."

"Quite right," responded the Doctor; "and now it's Frank's turn. What are the populations of the islands?"

"The book we have just been reading," was the reply, "says that Sumatra has between three and four millions of inhabitants, while Borneo has less than 3,000,000; therefore, Borneo must be very thinly peopled."

"To give you an idea of the density of the population, we will make a comparison. The Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland," Doctor Bronson continued, "has more than 30,000,000 of inhabitants, with an area no larger than that of Sumatra, and far less than that of Borneo. Mr. Wallace, in his 'Malay Archipelago,' says the whole of the British Islands might be set down in Borneo, and would be surrounded by a sea of forests. Here is a map in which Borneo and the British Isles have been drawn to the same scale, and you see that Mr. Wallace's statement is entirely correct."

THE BRITISH ISLES AND BORNEO COMPARED.

Several minutes were passed in the examination of the map, and the youths confessed their surprise at the information it gave them. They had no idea Borneo was so large, or, as Fred expressed it, that Great Britain was so small. The Doctor set them laughing with the story of the American who visited England and said he liked the country very much, but was afraid to go out in the evening through fear that he would walk off into the sea.

It was a voyage of little more than two days from Batavia to Sarawak, the port in Borneo to which the Osprey was bound. The time was passed by our friends in conversation concerning the curious land they were about to visit, and certain features of its history. About noon of the third day from Singapore they were off the entrance of the Sarawak River, and, as the steamer was small, and of light draught, they were not delayed in passing the bar. Several native craft were on the stream, but they did not see a single foreign-rigged vessel until they entered the river and were well on their way to the town.

ASCENDING THE RIVER.

Here is what Frank wrote in his note-book:

"The town of Sarawak is about eighteen miles from the sea, and the voyage up from the bar reminded us of the voyage from the mouth of the Menam to Bangkok. The banks are lined with tropical trees of all kinds, and sometimes the foliage is so dense that it would be next to impossible to go through it without a hatchet. The houses are built over the water in many instances, and they have platforms in front where you can land from small boats just as you land at a wharf from a ship. By this arrangement the people are under no expense for drainage, as the water carries everything away as soon as it is thrown overboard. But the Doctor says the river abounds in snakes, just as the Menam does; and they come into the houses without waiting to be invited.

"The town contains about 25,000 inhabitants. They are mostly Malays and Chinese; the former have come from other parts of the archipelago, and the latter from the southern provinces of China, like their countrymen in Siam. The original inhabitants of the country do not get along very well with the Chinese and Malays, and the most of them prefer to live farther in the interior. There is nothing very remarkable about the place, and you can see the most of it without going on shore, as it stands on the bank of the river, and none of the houses are very far from the water. We went ashore in a small boat rowed by Malays, and they made it go very fast with their strong arms at the oars: these Malays are excellent sailors and boatmen, and are preferred to any other nationality of the East, with the exception of the Chinese. Some of the ship captains say they would rather have a Malay crew than a Chinese one, as the Malays are less likely to become scared in a storm, and forget how to do their work.

A FRUIT-STORE IN SARAWAK.

"We took a walk through the principal street of Sarawak, and saw lots of men who were doing nothing, and evidently didn't wish to be employed. The most of the hard work is performed by the Chinese, and our observation is that they are the most industrious people of the Far East, and the best at a trade. The commerce here, apart from that which the English control, is mostly in Chinese hands, so the Doctor tells us, and some of their merchants have made large fortunes. They trade in anything they can buy and sell, and are satisfied with small profits when they cannot get large ones, and some of their shops manage to get along with very few goods. We passed a fruit-store, where there were two or three boxes of oranges visible near the door, and a large bunch of bananas was hung outside for a sign, or perhaps to allow them to get ripe in the open air. One old fellow was smoking on the front step with his cat behind him, and three others were inside talking something we could not understand. They all appeared to belong to the establishment, but the whole stock of fruit, as far as we could see, wasn't worth ten dollars.

"The houses are not very substantial, and the Doctor said that an ordinary building in Sarawak ought not to cost over fifty dollars, while a cheap one, sufficient for protection against the weather, could be built for five or ten. There are a few substantial buildings; one is called the Government House, and is where the governor and his officials live; and there is an English Protestant church and mission. There is a considerable population of Mohammedans here, and they have a mosque where they go to worship every Friday. Friday, you know, is the Moslem Sunday, and on that day the faithful followers of Mohammed are unwilling to do any hard work; Fred says it must be Sunday all the time for a good many of them, if we are to judge by their perpetual idleness. But there isn't much inducement for a man to work here, when a very little will support him. He does not need any thick clothes where there is no winter, and if it were not for the rules of politeness some of them wouldn't wear any clothes at all.

"We should have been surprised to see the English flag flying over the place if we had not already learned something about the history of Sarawak. The town was formerly known as Kuching, and to this day some of the natives call it by that name. The river was the resort of the Malay pirates, who used to plunder all the coast and make it impossible for the natives to live there. The natives are called Dyaks; they seem to belong to both the Mongolian and Malay races, as they have the oblique eyes of the former, with the complexion and hair of the latter. They are said to be an honest and inoffensive people, and for this reason they were robbed by the Malays in former times, and are now cheated by both Malays and Chinese. They have a good deal of ingenuity about them, and some of their work would do credit to civilized people.

"We saw a party of them climbing a tree just back of the town to get some cocoa-nuts; it was straight as an arrow, and about two feet in diameter, and hadn't a branch for at least forty feet. How do you suppose they did it?

"They made some pegs of pieces from a bamboo pole; then they drove one of them into the tree about three feet from the ground, and another the same distance higher up. Next they took a long pole, also of bamboo, rested one end of it on the ground, and lashed it firmly to the two pegs. Then a man stood on the lowest peg and drove another in at about the level of his face, and as soon as it was driven he lashed the pole to it. So he went on and on, and when the pole gave out another was passed up and lashed in the same way as the first. It took them about fifteen minutes to make a very nice ladder—one side being the tree, and the other the bamboo pole; and as soon as they had got to the lower branches of the tree, the nuts came tumbling to the ground, and the man scrambled down after them. The whole thing appeared very easy and simple, but it would take an American some time to accomplish it.

A DYAK YOUTH.

"The Dyaks are very fond of ornaments, and where they can afford it they cover their necks with beads and brass wire, and decorate their arms with large rings of brass or silver. Most of them wear gay-colored handkerchiefs on their heads, and it is easy to distinguish them from the foreign Malays by this mark alone. We saw one Dyak youth of ten or twelve years, who had an intelligent face and bright, flashing eyes; he belonged to one of the hill tribes, and had come down from his home in the mountains with his father to see the strangers on the coast. His hair floated over his shoulders in great masses, and his ears had rings in them that looked as though they weighed a pound. His only clothing, apart from the rings and beads and handkerchief, was a strip of cotton cloth around his waist; and he carried a spear to indicate that he belonged to one of the best families of the country."

[CHAPTER II.]

AN EXCURSION IN BORNEO.—STORY OF RAJAH BROOKE.

Our young friends greatly desired to visit the interior of Borneo; but as the Osprey would only remain a couple of days at Sarawak, and they wished to continue in her to Manilla, they were obliged to abandon the idea. The Doctor engaged a native boat to take them a short distance up the Sarawak River, so that they could see something of the great island away from the sea, and they gladly accepted the proposal. "Half a loaf is better than no bread," said Frank, and his opinion was promptly echoed by his cousin. The captain of the Osprey agreed to wait for them until the afternoon of the second day, and they promised to be back early enough to allow the ship to get to sea before dark.

SCENE ON THE RIVER.

A Dyak village about thirty miles above Sarawak was their destination; the crew of the boat was composed of half a dozen natives with strong arms, and as they had promise of a liberal payment on condition of making a rapid journey, they applied all their strength to the oars. Luckily, they were favored by the tide, and by a breeze blowing up stream, and very soon after getting under way they spread the sail of coarse matting and laid their oars at one side. The Dyaks along the coast are excellent sailors, but their boats are not built after the most approved models of naval architecture; under the best circumstances, they rarely make more than six miles an hour, and the most of them are satisfied with three or four. It took about seven hours of rowing and sailing for our friends to reach the village; but the time passed pleasantly, as there was an abundance of things of interest on the shore, and each bend of the stream revealed something new. The forest was dense, and contained several varieties of trees they had not yet seen, and there was an apparent abundance of animal and insect life. Every few minutes the boys would catch sight of a bright-winged bird or a gaudy butterfly, and they managed to secure several specimens of the latter.

While they were halted for a few moments under a tree that overhung the water, Fred's attention was attracted by a butterfly that fluttered among the leaves for a moment, and then seemed to disappear like the harlequin in a play. While he was looking for it there came another and then another, and each of them in turn vanished like the first. Frank was as much excited as Fred over the strange phenomenon, and asked the Doctor what could have become of the butterflies, as he was certain they had not flown away, and he could not see them among the leaves.

"Look closely at the leaves," said the Doctor, "and perhaps you will find them."

"I've looked at every leaf," Fred answered; "but there is no butterfly to be seen."

"I've found one," said Frank, as he took what appeared to be a leaf between his thumb and forefinger.

LEAF BUTTERFLY IN FLIGHT AND REPOSE.

Sure enough, he had secured his prize, and then he pointed to another, which Fred immediately captured. Then the Doctor explained that they had found the famous Leaf Butterfly of Borneo, that has the peculiarity of resembling almost to perfection a dead leaf of the tree he inhabits. "You observe," said he, "that his two sets of wings have a dark line running along them from point to point that exactly resembles the midrib of a leaf, and there are lines running out from this centre that correspond to its veins. When the wings are folded, the lower end of them imitates the stem, and touches the twig when the butterfly is at rest; and their upper extremity is pointed in exact imitation of the point of the leaf. It is the habit of this butterfly to settle where there are several dead or partly withered leaves, and you must have very sharp eyes to distinguish him from one of them."

While the Doctor was talking the boys observed that their specimens were not exactly alike, and they called his attention to their discovery. The latter explained that it was difficult to find an exact resemblance in a dozen or more specimens, and they appeared to vary about as the leaves themselves were varied. It was a provision of nature for the protection and preservation of the butterfly, as he was enabled to escape many of his enemies by adapting his appearance to his retreat.

"I suppose," said one of the boys, "it is on the same principle that rabbits in our own country are brown in summer and white in winter. Many a bunny has saved himself from the hunters by changing from brown to white when the snow falls."

The two butterflies were carefully preserved along with those already captured, and as soon as the men were rested the boat moved on. Suddenly one of the Dyaks called out, "Mias! mias!" and pointed to the top of a tree where there was an animal of considerable size swinging from one limb to another, and apparently enjoying himself. Our friends looked, and the boys hardly needed the Doctor's explanation that "mias" is the Malay name of the famous orang-outang.

"What a splendid fellow he is," said Frank, "and what a pity we cannot capture him! He looks as though he was six feet high at least."

"The gentleman we met as we went down the coast of Sumatra told us that none had ever been caught more than four feet and two inches high," responded Fred, "but this one certainly appears as large as a full-grown man."

"Probably a measurement would tell a different story," Doctor Bronson remarked. "You know," he added, "that the largest fishes are the ones that are not caught, or get no farther than being hooked and lost."

By this time the mias had seen the boat and taken alarm for his safety; with one swing he dropped from the limb where he had been exercising, and disappeared in the forest. The boys wished to land and pursue him, but the Doctor told them it would not be of the least use to do so, as he could easily elude them. "He can travel faster," he continued, "among the limbs of the trees than you could possibly go on the ground; he swings from one tree to another, then runs to the farther side along the horizontal limbs, and is ready for another plunge. We will stick to the river, and lose no time in reaching our destination."

A FLOATING ISLAND.

At a bend in the stream they saw some cattle grazing on a little island a short distance from a large tree that stood with its roots in the water. The Doctor said the island was in all probability a floating one that was attached to the bottom of the river by the long roots of the plants growing on it, and so flexible that it could rise and fall with the tide, or with the floods and droughts of the river. "These floating islands," he explained, "are by no means uncommon in tropical countries; there are many in the Amazon and its tributaries, and some of them are miles in extent. They are generally attached to the river-bottom, but occasionally they become separated and float away with the current, and instances are not unknown of cattle being swept out to sea on them."

When they reached the village, whither they were bound, the boat was run to the bank, and the three travellers stepped on shore. The natives came down to meet them, and stood at a respectful distance till the orang-kaya, or head-man, made his appearance. He was dressed in gay-colored robes, and his head was wrapped with at least half a dozen handkerchiefs of silk and bandanna; Fred thought a dozen would not be too large a guess for the brass rings about his arms, and Frank thought they must be a heavy burden to wear all the time. The boys and men were similarly adorned, and Frank thought he had found a partial solution of the question, "What becomes of all the brass pins?" If they were used for making Dyak ornaments, the consumption must be enormous.

The chief led the way to the "head-house," or strangers' lodging, which is in every Dyak village, and the whole population followed to have a look at the visitors. The boys observed that the Dyaks were generally well formed, and had more intelligent expressions on their faces than the majority of the natives of Java or the Malay peninsula, and there was a playful manner among the younger portion that greatly amused them. The Doctor said the Dyak youths had a great number of games and sports that were quite unknown to the rest of the Malay race, and in this particular they resembled the Chinese and Japanese. They have spinning-tops similar to our own, and they have a game very much like "base ball," in which they display a great deal of skill. Many of their sports are of an athletic character, and they are constantly exhibiting their ability to run, jump, throw the spear, toss heavy stones, and perform other feats that require more or less muscle. In this way their strength is developed, and they lay the foundation of the endurance for which they are celebrated.

The head house proved to be a circular building about thirty feet in diameter; it stood on posts, and had a platform running all around it, where persons could sit in the daytime or sleep at night. The head house is not only a lodging-place for strangers, but it serves as the council-chamber for any public business, and is the dormitory of many of the young men, especially in time of war, when they are liable to be summoned at short notice. Sometimes it is the largest building in a village, and the inhabitants take their turns in keeping it in order.

There was no one to act as interpreter between the strangers and the people of the village, and the conversation was conducted by signs. Where neither side could say anything, the talk was necessarily brief: the Doctor made the chief understand that he had brought nothing to sell, and did not wish to buy rice or anything else; and therefore he had no occasion to occupy their time. Then the chief ordered the strangers to be served with boiled rice and tea, and he also commanded some of the young men to exhibit their skill in the various Dyak games. An hour was spent in this sport, and then the conference came to an end; the display on the part of the Dyak youths consisted of the games already mentioned, together with pulling at a rope somewhat after the manner of the well-known "tug of war." The rope was made of bamboo shreds tightly twisted, and its rough surface furnished an excellent hold for the hands of the contestants.

BRIDGE OF BAMBOO IN BORNEO.

When the sports were over, the Doctor and the boys took a stroll among the rice-fields in the neighborhood of the village; and by the time it was ended the sun was setting. Near the village they crossed a bridge of bamboo, the first of the kind the boys had ever seen, and they examined it with a good deal of curiosity. A couple of the longest and strongest bamboos were thrown over the stream and bound together with thongs of bamboo-leaves twisted together, and a third bamboo served as a hand-rail. From an overhanging tree three or four smaller bamboos were attached to steady the bridge and keep it in place, and it was further upheld by bamboo poles fastened into the bank. The Doctor said there were hundreds of these bridges in Borneo, especially among the mountains; and though they were liable to tremble under the feet of those who crossed them, they were quite secure. The Dyaks find the bamboo no less useful than do the inhabitants of other Eastern countries, and it would be a serious calamity to them if they were suddenly deprived of it.

They slept in the head house at night, and were off by dawn on their return to meet the Osprey. The Doctor told the boys that if they had had time they would have visited the diamond-fields of the upper Sarawak, where some very fine stones are occasionally secured. The diamond washings are mostly conducted by Chinese, but they are not said to be very profitable; now and then a rich deposit is found, but for the most part the fields of the Sarawak do not more than pay the expense of working them. In other parts of Borneo they are richer, and some very large diamonds have been discovered.

While descending the river, the Doctor called attention to a climbing plant that completely covered a tree overhanging the water. "It belongs," said he, "to the family of the pitcher-plants, but is not a very good specimen."

One of the boys asked what the pitcher-plant was.

"Its name indicates its character," replied the Doctor. "It has a cup, or pitcher, hanging down very much as a pitcher does when you hold it by the handle; some of the plants are literally covered with these pitchers, and they will generally be found full of water, even when there has been no rain for weeks. The finest of them are in the mountain regions of Borneo; there is one known as the Nepenthes Rajah that will hold two quarts of water in its pitcher, and there is another nearly as large. They are of great advantage to travellers, and many a man has been saved from suffering, and perhaps death, by means of this plant."

Neocerambyx æneas. Diurus furcellatus. Megacriodes Sanudersii.
Cladoguanthus tarandus. Ectatorhinus Wallacei. Cyriopalpus Wallacei.
REMARKABLE BEETLES IN BORNEO.

As the men wanted to rest a short time, the boat was brought to shore near the tree that supported the wonderful plant, and thus the boys had an opportunity to examine it. While they were looking at it they discovered some curious beetles on the trunk of the tree, and succeeded in capturing several of them; some of their prizes had long antennæ, or feelers, and one had a pair of claws like a lobster, while all of them were beautifully marked or colored. Their capture led to a talk about the insect life of Borneo, and the boys learned that the country was particularly rich in beetles, butterflies, and similar products: more than two thousand varieties of beetles alone had been found there, with a proportionate number of butterflies.

"And if you are not satisfied with such small game," said the Doctor, "you can have the elephant—who is identical with the elephant of India—and at least ten varieties of monkeys. Then there is a species of panther; there are deer and wild cattle; and if you like the sport of hunting wild pigs, you can be accommodated. Bats and squirrels abound, and the name of the birds of Borneo is legion; there are crocodiles in the rivers, great pythons in the forests, and a liberal variety of smaller snakes—enough to fill the wants of the most fastidious."

"If that's the case," said Frank, "I don't believe I care to stay very long in Borneo. I don't mind ordinary hunting; in fact, I should like it; but when it comes to a battle with a python I would rather be left out."

Fred was of the same opinion, and thought that anybody could have his fill of hunting among the elephants and wild pigs. The Doctor said the pursuit of these latter animals was much more difficult in Borneo than in India, owing to the comparatively small part of the country that had been cleared. He added that it was very hard to keep up with a pig in the forest, as he can dart under the trees and keep out of the way while the hunter is toiling on, and perhaps finds the bushes so dense that he must cut away the vines and creeping plants before he can proceed.

Then the conversation changed, and for the rest of the way the Doctor interested the boys with the romantic story of an Englishman who became an Eastern prince. It was about as follows:

"Borneo has three distinct governments. First there is the Kingdom of Borneo, ruled over by a king, or sultan; it embraces the north-western and central part of the island, and is divided into several subordinate principalities. Then there are the Dutch possessions on the east, south, and west coasts, comprising three provinces under the control of the Dutch Governor of Java; and, lastly, there is the independent State of Sarawak, with an English ruler.

"It is concerning this State and its ruler that we are about to talk. In the first quarter of this century there was an Englishman, named James Brooke, in the service of the East India Company; he left it about 1830, and made a voyage to China, and on his way there he visited Borneo. There he saw how badly the natives were treated by the Malay pirates, who devastated the coast and carried the people away to sell as slaves, after robbing them of all they possessed. He conceived the idea of forming a civilized government for the people, and with this object in view returned to England, where he spent several years in preparations; he bought a yacht out of the royal squadron, and obtained the same privileges for her as for a regular man-of-war. He came here with his yacht in 1838, and attacked the pirates wherever he could find them; their primitive boats and arms were no match for him, and in a year or two he had freed this part of the coast from their depredations.

"In return for his assistance, the prince, or rajah of Sarawak, made Brooke his successor, with the full approval of the Sultan of Borneo, and gave him command of the army. English ships and men were sent out to assist him, and while they were attending to the pirates the new rajah went to work to teach the natives how to live like civilized people. He framed laws for them, established a regular government with courts of justice, built roads, developed trade, and in a good many ways made the natives feel that he was their friend."

"How did the English Government like this?" one of the boys asked. "Did they approve of one of their nation becoming an Eastern prince?"

"The Government was generally favorable to it, as it was in the interest of peace," the Doctor answered, "and besides, it was extending the power of the British Crown. But there was considerable opposition to it among some of the English, and in 1847 Brooke was obliged to go to England to defend himself against the attacks upon his policy. He succeeded in establishing his claims to consideration, and received the honor of knighthood, so that he was afterward called Sir James Brooke, though he is better known as Rajah Brooke. A staff of officers under pay of the British Government was sent to assist him, and the State of Sarawak was regarded as a British dependency, though it was and is nominally independent, and can do as it pleases.

"Under the rule of Rajah Brooke the country prospered, and has continued to prosper. Sir James died in 1868, after establishing his nephew as his successor, and the latter rules here now under his uncle's old title. The nephew is quite as philanthropic as the uncle was, and has proved himself an intelligent ruler; the trade of the country increases every year by the development of its resources, and from all we can learn or observe, the inhabitants have reason to be grateful to the Englishmen who came among them and taught them the arts of peace instead of war."

"What is the trade of Sarawak?" said Fred, "and how is it carried on?"

"It is principally in the products of the forests and of the mines," replied the Doctor, "and the latter are especially valuable. Antimony is abundant, and it is from Borneo that England derives her principal supply of that metal. There are numerous deposits of coal, and large quantities are taken out every year and sent to the markets of the Eastern seas. Those immense piles of coal that we saw at Singapore probably came from Borneo, and the business of that one port alone is enough to make the fortune of a small State like Sarawak. The forests are full of valuable timber, such as ebony, iron-wood, sandal-wood, and teak; and there is a considerable product of gutta-percha, India-rubber, and camphor. The export trade is said to amount to more than $3,000,000 annually; the most of it goes to Singapore, and from that point the goods are reshipped to Europe."

Frank wished to know the extent of the State, and its population.

"The dominions of Rajah Brooke," said the Doctor, "extend about 300 miles along the coast, and inland, at the farthest point, about 100 miles. The population is said to be 300,000, and is composed of Dyaks, Malays, and Chinese. The only hostility ever shown to the first Rajah Brooke was by the Chinese at the time of the outbreak of the war between England and China, in 1857. Two thousand Chinese attacked his house, and he was compelled to swim across the river to save his life. The insurrection lasted for some weeks, but was finally suppressed with the assistance of English troops sent from Singapore.

"The religion of the people is principally Mohammedan, but there is perfect religious freedom through the whole province. There are several Protestant missionary stations in the interior, some under English, and others under American management. One of the latter was the scene of the labors of Rev. Mr. Thomson, an American missionary, who spent many years in Borneo; he formed a vocabulary of the Dyak language, and did much for the education of the people.

AMERICAN MISSIONARY STATION IN BORNEO.

"An enterprising American, Mr. J. W. Torrey, of Boston, endeavored to follow the example of Rajah Brooke and make a colony of his countrymen, and establish an independent State in another part of Borneo; he obtained the title of Rajah of Ambong and Maroodu, with a grant of territory, from the Sultan of Borneo, and quite likely would have succeeded in his plans if he had possessed the same wealth as James Brooke, and been properly supported by his Government. The latter always had all the capital he wished, together with the support of the British Government, while Torrey had no fortune with which to purchase ships and employ the needed men and officers; and, furthermore, the President and Congress of the United States gave him no assistance. He still holds his title and his claims to territory, and he occasionally visits Borneo to make sure of their continuance; but up to the present time he has not established his government, and every year makes it less and less probable that he will succeed in his hopes of founding an American province in the Malay Archipelago."

"There's the Osprey with steam up," exclaimed Fred, as a bend in the river brought them in sight of their ship.

"Yes, there she is," echoed Frank; "we're in time to keep our promise to the captain, and she's ready to sail as soon as we're on board."

The men paddled vigorously, and in a few minutes our friends were climbing the gangway-ladder. As their feet touched the deck, the captain ordered the anchor lifted, and in a short time they were steaming down the river, and were at sea before the setting of the sun. It happened that the spectacle of sunset on that occasion was particularly beautiful; the light seemed to flash in all directions from behind the clouds, and formed a pathway of fire along the gently undulating waters. The boys agreed that it was the most brilliant sunset they had hitherto seen at sea, and they lingered on deck till the last ray of light had disappeared, and the stars came out in their places in the sky.

SUNSET IN THE CHINA SEA.

[CHAPTER III.]

ARRIVAL AT MANILLA.—FIRST DAY ON SHORE.

The Osprey steamed on the next day and the next, and on the third morning after leaving Sarawak the boys found themselves entering a broad bay, which the captain told them was the Bay of Manilla, in the Philippine Islands.

MAP OF THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS.

"It's large enough to hold all the ships in the world," Frank remarked, as he looked around him, and gradually took in the extent of the sheet of water.

"Yes," said Fred, "provided they did not object to a little crowding here and there. It seems to me larger than the Bay of Yeddo, in Japan."

"You are quite right," chimes in the Doctor. "It is larger than the Bay of Yeddo, and Frank is not much out of the way when he thinks all the ships of the world could assemble here at once. The Bay of Manilla is 120 marine miles in circumference, and its waters wash the shores of five provinces. There is good anchorage in the greater part of it, but owing to its enormous size, it is less secure than a smaller bay would be."

The captain of the Osprey was standing near them during this conversation, and nodded assent to the Doctor's statement. "Manilla has no harbor, properly speaking," he remarked, "and the only place for ships, till they enter the river, is in the open roadstead. During the north-east monsoon we are all right, and can drop our anchors a mile or so in front of the city the same as we do at Batavia; but when the south-west monsoon is blowing, and in all the time of the change of monsoons, the roadstead is dangerous. Then we go to Cavite, a naval port seven miles down the coast, and all our cargo must be landed there or brought to Manilla in lighters. No ship of more than 400 tons can enter the river at Manilla safely, as there is not sufficient water on the bar. We shall anchor in front of the town, and you will go on shore in a small boat."

SCENE ON MANILLA BAY.

The entire shores of the bay were not distinctly visible at the same moment, owing to the great distance across, but what there was to be seen was quite picturesque. In the background was a range of mountains, in front of them was a table-land, and in the immediate foreground lay a stretch of low coast covered with tropical vegetation, among which the bamboo and the palm were prominent. As they approached near the land our friends could see that it was intersected by numerous canals, and the captain told them that in the rainy season these canals overflowed their banks, and converted all the low-land into a vast lake. When the water recedes, the moist land is planted with rice, and in a few days what was before a wide stretch of water becomes a most luxuriant field. The rice product of the Philippines is very large, and the soil seems admirably adapted to the culture of the article that forms the daily food of more than half the human race.

There were but few ships at anchor in the roadstead when the Osprey came to a halt at the spot her captain had designated, and the signs of great business activity were altogether wanting. The Doctor informed his young companions that the trade of Manilla was less than that of Batavia or Singapore, and hence the smaller number of ships in port. The Philippine Islands belong to Spain, but there is not a great deal of commerce between the two countries, since neither produces much that the other wants. Down to a very recent date there was a heavy protective duty that was intended to favor Spanish ships to the detriment of others, but somehow, while it kept off the vessels of other nationalities, it did not bring as many Spanish ones as was expected.

The customs duties were formerly seven per cent. for merchandise imported in Spanish ships, and double that figure if the ships were foreign. Then they had a system of levying tonnage dues on foreign ships, in addition to the duties on the cargo; a ship in ballast paid a certain rate, while a cargo ship was taxed about double. If a ship in ballast landed the smallest parcel of any kind whatever, she was immediately taxed at the higher rate; and it was said that the officials used sometimes to bribe a sailor on board a ship to carry a small bundle on shore, so that they could have the pretext of levying the high charge. The consequence was that foreign ships avoided Manilla as much as possible, and only went there when specially chartered. In 1869 a decree was issued making a uniform duty on all goods, no matter under what flag they were imported, abolishing all export duties, and doing away with the objectionable features of the port charges.

Hardly was the anchor down before a boat from the custom-house came along-side, and the officials mounted to the deck. A little time was required to take the declarations of the strangers relative to the objects of their visit, and the time they intended to remain; the Spanish in the Philippines have pretty nearly the same regulations concerning strangers as the Dutch in Java, and for a similar object—to keep the country for themselves; and if a visitor does not like the restrictions thrown around him, he is at full liberty to leave.

When the formalities were over, our friends entered a boat and were rowed ashore. Manilla stands on both banks of the river Pasig, but the larger portion is on the southern side. There is a breakwater at the mouth of the river, to prevent injury from the waves that sometimes sweep in during the change of the monsoons. On more than one occasion the water has flooded all the lower parts of the city; but at the time of which we are speaking the weather was at its best, and the breakwater was more ornamental than useful.

COAST SCENE IN THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS.

The boys were amused at the appearance of the houses along the banks; they had expected to see broad windows that would give as much ventilation as possible, and also allow strangers to have a peep at the internal arrangements without taking the trouble to enter. But they found, on the contrary, that the windows were generally narrow, and few in number, and the inhabitants consoled themselves for the lack of ventilation by spending a goodly portion of their time on the balcony. The roofs were covered with red tiles after the Spanish manner, and the Doctor remarked that the Spaniards in the Philippines, like the Dutch in Java and the English in India, had brought many of their home customs with them when settling in the eastern half of the world.

BARGE AND HOUSE ON THE PASIG.

They passed a barge laden with merchandise from one of the ships at anchor in the roadstead; it was propelled by men with long poles, which they fixed in the bottom of the river after the manner of the "setting poles" formerly in use on some of the streams of America. A broad plank was attached to each side of the barge just above the water-line, and on this plank two men walked as they pushed against the firmly fixed poles. The barge was a clumsy affair, with a roof of pandanus leaves, woven together and arranged in sections, so that it could be lifted off to receive cargo. There was a broad rudder at the stern of the barge, and the steersman stood under the mat roof, so that he was quite sheltered from the rays of the tropical sun.

There were many native craft in the river, and a few vessels of foreign rig; but all the latter were of small tonnage, and evidently employed in coast service among the islands. The boat with the three travellers pushed on to the custom-house, where the baggage was inspected, and, on being found to contain nothing liable to duty, was allowed to pass. Then the strangers were at liberty to seek a hotel, and they lost no time in doing so.

There are not many visitors in Manilla, and consequently the hotel accommodations are limited; there are only two establishments worthy the name, and even these are far from equal to the pretentious hostelries of Madrid and Seville. Frank remarked that they would be quite content as long as they had a roof to shelter them, and enough to eat; Fred pointed to a large hole above his bed where several tiles had been removed, and suggested that the shelter was not very promising at the outset. The attention of the hotel-keeper was called to the opening, and he quietly remarked that the rainy season was over, and the hole would do no harm.

The hotel was not in Manilla proper, but in the suburb of Bidondo, where most of the foreigners reside, and where the bulk of the commerce is conducted. It is on the northern bank of the Pasig, and those who live there are accustomed to regard themselves as of more consequence than the dwellers on the opposite side of the stream. Back of Bidondo there are some pleasant villages and private residences, and several of the latter are fitted up with a considerable attempt at luxury. The boys thought the houses were not as comfortable as in Singapore and Batavia, and the Doctor told them that Manilla was a more expensive place to live in than either of the cities they had named, and consequently the same amount of money would procure fewer necessaries or luxuries of life. Those who had only fixed salaries to rely upon frequently found it difficult to make both ends meet; and even the merchants were compelled to practise more economy than they desired. The houses were generally of two stories, but the lower one was rarely inhabited, on account of the dampness that rose constantly from the ground. It was generally used as a stable, and consequently the occupants of the upper floor had the advantage of a variety of smells without extra charge.

Doctor Bronson had a letter to a gentleman residing in Manilla, and as soon as the party was settled at the hotel, he set out to deliver it. During his absence the boys took a stroll in the neighborhood, and crossed the bridge that leads to the city proper, on the southern bank of the Pasig.

OLD BRIDGE AT MANILLA.

There was formerly a stone bridge of ten arches that spanned the river; it was erected more than two hundred years ago, and was regarded with pride by the inhabitants, but the earthquake of 1863 destroyed it. An iron suspension-bridge was constructed in its place, and the most of the piers of the old structure were removed in order to facilitate navigation.

A MANILLA DANDY.

A NATIVE GIRL IN MANILLA.

Frank and Fred found many things that were new to them in their walk. They had not gone a dozen yards before they met a man whose appearance raised a smile on their faces, but they carefully concealed it till he had passed. He was dressed in what he doubtless regarded as the perfection of wardrobe, and swung a light cane with all the dignity of the most accomplished promenader of Broadway or Fifth Avenue. His trousers were of a checked pattern, and his feet—bare of stockings—were thrust into patent-leather shoes. The rest of his costume consisted of a shirt, a stove-pipe hat, an eye-glass, and a cigar; and the novel feature of the dress was that the shirt was worn outside the trousers, and had no necktie. The boys at first thought they had encountered some one who did not know how to clothe himself properly; but they soon ascertained that it is the custom in Manilla to wear the shirt outside the trousers, and the man they met was a dandy who had gotten himself up "regardless of expense."

A few steps farther on they met a different sort of inhabitant—a native girl with a jar of water on her head, and bearing a large leaf in one hand. She was tall and well-formed, and her dress was very simple; it consisted of a light chemise, and a skirt that showed her bare feet as she walked gracefully along, and paused to take a glance at the strangers. Her thick hair was braided into a heavy tress, which formed an excellent cushion for the jar to rest upon; and her complexion was so light that Frank could hardly believe she was not a Spaniard, rather than a native of the islands. Afterward they met many more of the same type; and as they also encountered Spaniards and half-castes, they were not long in learning how to distinguish the various inhabitants of Manilla.

On their return to the hotel, they found the Doctor was there before them, as the gentleman he sought was not at his office, and therefore his visit had been very brief. They sat down to lunch, and just as they finished it there was a call for the Doctor. It proved to be from Mr. Segovia, a partner of the gentleman to whom he brought the letter, and he kindly offered to show any courtesy to the strangers in his power.

NATIVE AMUSEMENTS.

"I am afraid," said he, "that you will find Manilla a dull place. We have no theatre at present, and the newspapers contain nothing you would care to read; the only relief we have to the prevailing monotony is the religious processions, and I believe there will be none of these for two or three weeks. The amusement of the people is in cock-fighting, a vice that was introduced by the Spaniards, and has been adopted by every native that can afford to keep a bird. Some of them never go out-of-doors without their favorite birds in their arms; and there is hardly an hour of the day or night when there is not a fight going on in a dozen places in Manilla."

After some further talk about the city and what it contained, it was agreed that the gentleman would call late in the afternoon with a carriage to take the Doctor and his young companions to the evening promenade. The arrangement concluded, the gentleman retired, and the party sat down on the veranda to pass away the hot hours of the middle of the day and talk about the sights of the city.

The boys brought out their note-books to record what they had seen in their morning's walk; and when they had finished, they had a conversation with the Doctor relative to the Philippine Islands and their history since the time the Spaniards went there. They were astonished to find that the group comprised more than 1200 islands; but their surprise was somewhat diminished when Doctor Bronson told them that only twenty of the whole number were of any consequence, the rest being principally rocky islets. The entire group was said to have an area of about 120,000 square miles, and a population of from five to six millions. Some of the islands are independent, but the largest and most important belong to Spain, and have so belonged for more than three hundred years.

SPANISH GALLEONS ON THEIR WAY OVER THE PACIFIC.

"The group was discovered," said the Doctor, "in 1521 by the celebrated navigator Magellan, and occupied by the Spaniards about thirty years later. There have never been more than 10,000 Spaniards here at any one time, and probably there are not to-day over 5000 or 6000 persons of pure Spanish blood in all this region. For a long time the most of the trade of the Philippines was with Mexico, and once a year a ship or galleon was sent from Manilla to Acapulco with a load of silks and other valuable products of the East, which were sold for more than twice their cost. The last of these voyages was in 1811, owing to a royal decree that broke up the monopoly held by the rulers of the islands. Sometimes two or more galleons sailed together; the voyage across the Pacific Ocean was frequently more than one hundred days in length, and instances have been known of one hundred and fifty days being taken between Manilla and Acapulco. Now a sailing-ship that would not make the voyage in forty-five or fifty days would be considered slow, and a steamer would accomplish it in twenty-five."

One of the boys wished to know what the galleons brought back from Mexico in return for the silks they carried there.

"The greater part of their cargoes," was the reply, "was in silver dollars, and it is from this course of trade that we now find the Mexican dollar in such general circulation in the Far East. Then they brought quicksilver, which was sold in China at a large profit; and they brought cochineal and other dye-stuffs. Sometimes a single cargo would sell for $2,000,000, but this was unusual; the ordinary value of a cargo was about $500,000 at starting, and the returns were double that amount. There was very little produce of the islands in these cargoes, but mainly the silks and other Chinese goods which had been bought by the merchants of Manilla with gold-dust, sapan-wood, skins, and edible birds'-nests, together with the silver dollars, of which the Chinese are very fond.

"The Spaniards kept a monopoly of their trade down to the beginning of the present century. All other Europeans were carefully excluded from the islands until 1809, when an English house was allowed to establish itself here, and this concession was followed in 1814 by permission for all foreigners to come here under certain restrictions. The Spaniards always reserve the right to send away any foreigner who makes himself obnoxious, but the occasions when they do so are very rare. Even at the present day it is difficult for a foreigner to obtain permission to visit the interior of the island; and as late as twenty years ago there was a royal order that forbade their going there under any pretext whatever."

"Can we go there?" Fred asked. "I should so much like to see the interior of the island we are on."

"We have not time," the Doctor answered, "to go through the whole of the island, even if we could obtain permission; but I dare say we can make some short excursions, so that we will not be entirely ignorant of the Philippines when we go away."

After some further talk about the country they were in, the party separated, in order to follow the custom of Manilla, and devote an hour or two to sleep before going on their evening drive.

MOUTH OF THE BAY OF MANILLA.

[CHAPTER IV.]

AN EVENING PROMENADE.—VILLAGE LIFE NEAR MANILLA.

Mr. Segovia called at the hotel according to agreement, and found the party ready to start on the evening drive. The boys enjoyed it greatly, if we are to judge by the following account which they wrote after their return:

VIEW OF MANILLA FROM THE BINONDO SUBURB.

"We have found Manilla very interesting, and have seen so much in our ride, that we hardly know where to begin. The streets are wide and straight, and they have solid sidewalks of stone that remind you of some of those in New York or Boston. There is a large square or plaza, with a statue of one of the Spanish kings in the centre, and a good many people were gathered there as we drove along one side and stopped a few moments to look at the statue. The part of Manilla on the southern bank of the river is the military city, and contains the cathedral and other churches, together with the government barracks, the custom-house, and several other public buildings; the Binondo suburb on the north is not so well off, and perhaps it is for this reason that the streets are not so well paved, and not as regular and wide. But there are more people on the north bank than on the south, and the most of the foreigners live there and try to enjoy themselves.

"We went along at a good speed in an open carriage drawn by a pair of lively young horses that were said to have been newly imported from Australia; they will lose their spirit after a while in this hot climate, and a year or two from now it will not be easy to get them to go faster than a slow trot. Everybody takes a drive who can afford it, besides a good many who cannot stand the expense. Their doing so has caused a curious custom to be adopted by the drivers; whenever you hire a cab in the streets, you must pay for it in advance, or the driver will not go with you. The drivers have been cheated so much that they have become suspicious and won't trust anybody, and certainly they are not to be blamed. Mr. Segovia says that a great many of the Spaniards who come here are without money or character, and think they have a right to swindle any one who will trust them. The merchants are obliged to be very cautious, but in spite of all their care they lose a good deal by these adventurers.

"Every little while in our drive we came to a canal, and a portion of the way we followed the banks of the Pasig. The canals are small, and only scantily filled with half-stagnant water, and the smells that rise from them are anything but nice. Dead dogs and cats were floating on the water, but the men rowing the numerous boats did not seem to mind them. You can go all around the Binondo suburb in a boat, and some day we mean to do so, if we can stand the odors.

"As we passed near the river we saw a funny sight—a raft of cocoa-nuts, with a native on it, floating down the stream. The nuts are tied together with pieces of the husk, which are partially detached with a knife, and the whole mass is so buoyant that a hundred of them attached to each other will support a man. A native starts with a raft of nuts from somewhere up the river, and floats down to market. He goes to sleep there, and lets the current carry him along; and if his conveyance runs on shore, he wakes up, gives it a push out into the stream, and goes to sleep again. It is an easy and cheap mode of travelling, and when he has sold his raft, he walks home, or works his passage on a boat bound in his direction.

A CREOLE IN EUROPEAN DRESS.

"Mr. Segovia pointed out the various classes of people in Manilla, and it did not take us long to be able to distinguish them from one another. He divides them into Spaniards, Creoles, Tagals, Chinese, and Mestizoes; the Tagals are the natives, the Creoles are children of Spanish fathers and native mothers, and the Mestizoes are of Chinese parentage on one side, and native on the other. The word Mestizoes is generally abbreviated to "Metis," as our friend explained to us, and we will call them so in this letter.

SPANISH METIS.

CHINESE METIS.

"The first pair he pointed out were Spanish Metis, or Creoles, and they were dressed in their best clothes for an evening walk. The man wore a pair of gay-colored trousers that looked as though they were made of calico, and he had above them a frock like a shirt worn outside, of nearly the same material as the trousers. Then he had an umbrella and a tall hat, and his feet were in slippers instead of boots. The woman at his side was likewise in slippers that showed all of her feet except the toes; she had no bonnet on her head, but in its place she wore some flowers and a sort of wreath like a pad. There was a bright handkerchief around her neck, and her dress was of an equally gaudy color. These people appear to be very fond of lively colors and contrasts, if we may judge by the universal use they make of them.

"Close behind them was another couple that our friend said were Chinese Metis, or half-breeds. The costume of the man was not much unlike that of the other, but his trousers were not as gay, his frock was gathered in at the waist, and his shirt was white. The woman was prettier than the other one, and the handkerchief she wore on her head was very becoming; it fell in graceful folds down to her shoulders, which were covered with a cape of thin muslin, held in place by a pin at the throat, and her dress was very pretty: it consisted of a skirt or native sarong, in which there was a good deal of red, and over the skirt there was a wide sash of rich Chinese silk in red and yellow stripes. It is wound around the waist in such a way that it holds the figure quite closely, and hangs below the knee. Her feet were in slippers, without stockings, and it does not seem to be the fashion for anybody to put on stockings in Manilla, or at least only among the foreigners.

SPANISH METIS OF THE WEALTHY CLASS.

"Frequently we saw people on horseback, and were told that many of them belonged to the wealthy class of the Spanish Metis. Their dress was much like that of the pedestrians, except that it was somewhat richer, and the woman wore a tall hat like that of the man; but as the equestrian costume for a lady in Europe or America is generally supposed to include a high chapeau, we suppose the head-covering for the fair rider in Manilla will not be considered out of fashion. They say that fashions change very little in Manilla from year to year, and milliners do not make fortunes. The Spanish ladies make some attempt to keep in style, but, with all their efforts, they do not succeed very well. There is little chance for variety in a country where it is so hot that only the lightest garments can be worn with comfort.

"These Metis are in the same social position as the mulattoes of the United States—they will not associate with persons whose skins are darker than their own; and, on the other hand, the whites altogether despise and look down upon them. But they are the richest and most enterprising of the population, and it is said that a Chinese Meti can generally beat a genuine Chinese at a trade, no matter whether he is buying or selling. One of the wealthiest native merchants is the son of a Chinese trader who married a Tagal wife, and he has made his entire fortune by his own industry and shrewdness.

"There is this difference between the Spaniards in the Philippines and the Dutch in Java: that the former have instructed the natives in their religion, while the latter have not tried to give the Javanese any religious instruction whatever. All through the Philippines the natives have been converted to the Catholic Church, and in many districts the only white inhabitants are the priests. They instruct the natives not only in religion, but in agriculture and manufactures; but it often happens that, as they have no practical knowledge of the arts they are teaching, their instruction does not amount to much.

"When we reached the promenade, we got out of the carriage for a stroll. Everybody seemed to be there, as it is the fashion to go to the promenade whenever the band plays, and it happened to be one of the musical evenings. All the Spanish officials were in uniform, and the gentlemen who did not happen to hold office wore their black coats. Most of the other foreigners followed their example, though there were some that did not. The fashion promises to die out; but it will be some time before it does, as the Spanish are very conservative.

PALM-TREE IN THE BOTANICAL GARDEN.

"The ladies were out in goodly numbers, and Doctor Bronson said many of them were quite pretty. Most of them wore veils after the Spanish fashion, and they talked and laughed with the gentlemen, just as they might do in Madrid or any other Spanish city. The ladies in Manilla do not appear to spend as much time in-doors as the Dutch ladies do in Java, for they go a good deal among the shops, and like to turn over silks and other things by the hour without buying anything. They give the Chinese salesmen ever so much trouble, but the latter have to smile, and pretend to like it, exactly as the salesmen in a New York store have to do when the American ladies go on shopping excursions. In every house where they can afford it, they have a small army of servants to look after them; and as the place is in charge of a major-domo, or house-keeper, there is not much for a lady to look after. Mr. Segovia says the most of the ladies who come to Manilla prefer to remain there rather than go back to Spain, and the reason probably is that they find life much easier. It is the same with the men, as not more than one out of ten ever goes home to Spain for more than a short visit; though it is proper to say many of them would be glad to go back, only they never have the means of doing so.

"While we were at the promenade, the bells suddenly rung the hour for evening prayers. Everybody stopped on the instant; not only those on foot, but those on horseback and in carriages. It was like one of the fairy scenes we read about, where the goddess waves her wand, and everybody becomes petrified till she waves it again, and restores them to life. The gentlemen raised their hats, and the ladies bowed their heads, and for a few moments the time was devoted to universal prayer. Then the bells stopped, and the movement of horses, carriages, and pedestrians was resumed; the conversation became as lively as ever, and we had to rub our eyes to make sure we had not been dreaming.

"There is a botanical garden near the promenade, but it is not very well kept; it reminded us of the gardens at Singapore only by contrast, as it was overgrown with weeds, and the most of the plants had died or were dying. A few palm-trees remain, and some of them are quite interesting. We are told that botanical gardens in all the Spanish possessions do not appear to flourish; and if this one is to be taken as a sample, we can readily accept the statement.

"It was late in the evening when we returned from our drive; the people were thinning out somewhat at the promenade, but the most of them did not appear in a hurry to get home. Though they go late to bed, they rise early in Manilla, at least those who have any business; and they make up for the short hours of night by sleeping in the middle of the day. In the best of the houses there are bath-rooms, with bamboo windows in fine lattice-work, and some of the people manage to keep cool by bathing several times a day. The water for supplying the city comes from the Pasig River, several miles above Manilla, but the means of distributing it are very primitive."

The second morning of their stay in Manilla our young friends were out in good season, and off on an excursion around the city. Their ride took them along the river, but further up stream than they had previously been; they continued it beyond the city to a little village, where the natives were having so jolly a time in the water that the boys proposed stopping to look at them. The Doctor consented, and so they left their carriage and sat down on the bank.

LIFE IN THE WATER.

Three or four girls were in the shallow water near the edge of the stream, and they amused themselves by splashing a Chinese boatman who was urging his craft among them. Evidently he did not like the sport, as he was threatening to strike them with his oar, of which they did not seem to have much fear. A boy who had never in all probability seen a circus was balancing himself on the back of a wide-horned ox, and urging the beast to join the bathing-party; the ox was not at all disinclined to the bath, and the Doctor told the boys that the oxen, or buffaloes, of the Philippines cannot exist without frequent bathing. They like to lie all day in the water, and, if it is not attainable, they will readily accept mud as a substitute. Consequently, they are not particularly clean in their general appearance, as they are veneered with mud for the greater part of the time, and the more mud they can accumulate the better they are satisfied.

HORNS OF THE BUFFALO.

The Doctor called the attention of the boys to the wide horns of the buffalo, and said they were often six feet in length, while specimens had been known that measured seven feet from tip to tip. He further remarked that the animal knows how to use them, as any hunter in the interior of the islands can testify; and some are unable to give their personal evidence, for the reason that they have been killed by them. The buffalo is a dangerous beast to encounter when he is enraged; he will shun the white man as long as he can, but, when pressed and pursued, he turns and shows fight. "We shall hear more of him by-and-by," the Doctor remarked, "and what you hear will be likely to increase your respect for him."

On their way back to the hotel, Doctor Bronson pointed to a series of large buildings, which he said were the Government tobacco-factories. "Every smoker," said he, "is familiar with Manilla cigars—at least all through the ports of Asia—and this is where they are made. Many people prefer them to Havana cigars, and you will often see a gentleman decline a Havana and accept a Manilla. The best of the Manilla cigars rarely get to the United States; and when they do, the price is so high that they cannot compete with cigars from other countries. Besides, they seem to lose their flavor in the long voyage over the sea, and perhaps this is the reason why Havana cigars seem to be lacking in the proper taste when brought to Japan or China.

"The tobacco-crop of the Philippines pays a tribute of a million dollars every year to the Spanish Government, which is the principal revenue they derive from their possessions in the East. It gives employment, in the factories that you see, to more than 20,000 men and women, besides a great number in the cities of Spain, where the raw tobacco is also worked up. The cigars are of three qualities—firsts, seconds, and thirds; and the prices are graded accordingly. Every box contains a certificate as to the character of the cigars inside, and there is a label on the outside to show the date when the cigars were put up. The clever Chinese in Hong-Kong are in the habit of counterfeiting not only the cigars, but the certificate and date label: some of them were prosecuted for the fraud a few years ago, and they have latterly been somewhat cautious. They have also a trick of selling first-quality cigars without the box, which they then fill with seconds, so as to pass them off as firsts. A novice will not discover the cheat till he has bought and carried away his cigars, and then it is usually too late to make a change. The old residents of Hong-Kong are not to be caught by the trick, and carefully examine a box before purchasing."

NATIVE HOUSE IN THE SUBURBS OF MANILLA.

[CHAPTER V.]

AN EXCURSION TO THE INTERIOR.—BUFFALOES AND AGRICULTURE.

In the afternoon Mr. Segovia called at the hotel to make a suggestion for an excursion into the interior. He explained that he was not at all pressed with business at that season of the year, and could spare a few days for a trip inland: he offered to make all the needed arrangements, and proposed that they should start on the following morning.

A GROUP OF NATIVES OF MANILLA.

"The island of Luzon," said he, "on which Manilla stands, is the largest of the group; its length is 520 miles, and its greatest breadth about 140. The estimate of its area is 40,000 square miles, and the next largest island, Mindanao, contains 33,000 square miles; the remainder of the group are much smaller, and of less consequence. It would take you several months to visit all of the islands, and you would find them so much alike as hardly to pay for the expense and fatigue. But you can make a small tour of Luzon, and see the principal features of the Philippines; and if everything is satisfactory, we will set out to-morrow."

The proposition was at once accepted, and the gentleman departed to make the necessary arrangements. "You need get nothing," he said, "beyond what you wish to wear, and may take your roughest clothes for that purpose; I will see to all the provisions and everything else we want, and will come with a carriage to take you to the boat that will be ready for you."

As soon as he had gone, Frank suggested a visit to a book-store he had seen not far from the hotel, in the hope that they might find some books about the islands to carry with them on their journey. Fred agreed to the proposal, and away they went. They soon returned with two books in the English language and one in French, and they passed the evening in the study of these works, in which they found much that was interesting.

The volumes in English were "Travels in the Philippines," by F. Jagor, and "Twenty Years in the Philippine Islands," by Paul de la Gironiere. The latter book was originally published in French, and was written by Alexander Dumas, from the notes of Gironiere, who had led the life of an adventurer and planter in the Philippines. It contains a good deal of truth mixed up with a variety of interesting incidents from the imagination of the famous French novelist. The work of Jagor is more recent than the other, and also more authentic.

Their kind entertainer was true to his promise, and came with the carriage at an early hour; but he was not too early for the Doctor and his young charges, and it did not require many minutes for them to be ready to start on their expedition. "We want to get off as quickly as possible," said Mr. Segovia, "in order to make a good distance before the heat of the mid-day sun compels us to halt. You have been long enough in the tropics to know that the middle of the day should be devoted to rest."

The boat was waiting for them at a landing-place just above the bridge; it was of native construction, and had a rude appearance; but as soon as our friends entered it they found it very comfortable. It reminded them of a Chinese house-boat, and their guide said it was built after the Chinese model, with slight changes to suit the wants of the Philippines. There was a space on the forward deck, where they could sit under an awning or roof of bamboo and pandanus leaves; it was not sufficiently high to enable them to stand beneath it, but this was no great inconvenience, as there were plenty of little loop-holes where they could look out and study the scenery.

The baggage was stowed in a sort of hold beneath the cabin, or in a space at the stern; in the latter instance, it was under the eyes of Mr. Segovia's two servants, who sat there, and occasionally gave some needed assistance to the crew. The latter consisted of six men and a padrone, or captain; the captain was a Chinese Meti, while his crew were Tagals, or natives of the islands. They were obedient, but not very energetic, and it was very soon apparent that the voyage would not be a rapid one.

VIEW ON THE RIVER PASIG.

The route of the excursion was up the Pasig to a large lake known as the Lake of Bay. The Pasig forms a natural canal, about twenty miles long, between the lake and the sea, and there are no falls in any part of the way to obstruct navigation. There are numerous villages and farmhouses on the banks of the river, and the boatmen made all sorts of pretences for stopping, in order to make the journey as long as possible. They had been hired by the day, and were anxious not to get through a good contract in a hurry.

Mr. Segovia finally made the padrone understand very plainly that he would be held responsible for all delays, and if the men did not do their duty there would be a deduction from the amount to be paid. This had the desired effect, and after that they behaved better. "Stop as long as you like at the villages," said the gentleman, "and I will keep a record of your delays, and make your pay accordingly." Nothing could be more reasonable than this, and the men were not long in seeing it.

SCENE ON THE SHORE.

With rowing and sailing it took nearly all day, with a rest of two hours at noon, to reach the Lake of Bay. They halted for the night at a little village close by where the river begins, and while the sun was yet in the sky our friends took a stroll by the shore of the lake. It seemed to them a very large lake, and the boys were not at all surprised to learn that the circumference of this sheet of water was more than a hundred miles, and that it washed the shores of three fertile provinces—Manilla, Laguna, and Cavite. It abounded in fish, and their attention was called to a fishing-raft, with a curious system of bamboo poles, by which the net was managed. Doctor Bronson explained to the boys that everything about the concern was of bamboo, with the exception of the fibre of the net; and even that, he said, might possibly be of bamboo, as this article can be used for coarse netting, though it is too brittle for fine work.

A BAMBOO FISHING-RAFT.

Their guide informed them that all the waters of Luzon were abundantly supplied with fish, so that this article of food was very cheap. He said a man could live on five cents a day, and have all he wanted to eat; this was the price for the interior provinces—three cents for rice and two for fish and cabbage—but he admitted that in Manilla food was dearer. There a man can hardly subsist on five cents a day, though he can get along very well on ten. Most of the fishes are coarse and of a muddy flavor, and there are not many varieties eaten by foreigners.

They were lodged in the house of a gentleman who was acquainted with Mr. Segovia, and was glad to have the opportunity of entertaining strangers. "We are away from civilization," said he, "and are delighted to welcome any one who can give us news of the outer world, and relieve the monotony of our life. Hardly a dozen persons come here in a year, and therefore you may be sure that all who do are heartily welcome."

They were bountifully fed at the table of their host; and as he was anxious to talk on almost every conceivable topic, it was very late before they went to bed. The next morning the journey was resumed to the estate of Jala-jala; it was formerly owned by the author of "Twenty Years in the Philippine Islands," and was rather extravagantly described in his book. The shore along the lake is flat, and serves as an excellent pasture for the cattle belonging to the establishment, and back of the shore there is a wide area of slightly elevated country, covered with rice and sugar fields. Beyond these fields is a hilly region backed by a mountain that is thickly wooded to its summit, and abounds in game birds and animals of several kinds. Three sides of the estate are surrounded by water, as it stands on a broad peninsula; there is another peninsula of nearly the same extent farther up the lake, which is likewise the home of a wealthy planter.

The owner of Jala-jala was absent; but the manager invited the strangers to remain as long as they chose, since such was the custom of the country to all visitors who came properly introduced. He offered them horses to ride in any excursions they wished to make over the property, and told them, in true Spanish style, "The house and all it contains are yours." Mr. Segovia was well known at the place, and his presentation of Doctor Bronson and the youths was all that could be desired to make them entirely welcome.

The invitation was accepted by advice of their introducer, and their slender baggage was taken to the spacious house, where rooms were assigned to them. Their morning journey had given them good appetites, and they were quite ready for the substantial breakfast of curry, broiled chicken, and various kinds of fruits to which they were soon called. Then they rested awhile on the veranda, and strolled through the gardens, which were finely laid out, though somewhat neglected in cultivation. Early in the afternoon they were invited to a horseback-ride, and as soon as the animals were ready they started. A couple of Spanish Metis accompanied them, partly to show the way, and partly to vouch for them to any of the herdsmen they might encounter.

A STAMPEDE OF BUFFALOES.

"You must know," said Mr. Segovia, "that this estate has more than a thousand buffaloes, two thousand bullocks, and six or eight hundred horses. The horses are about half wild, and the bullocks more so, while the buffaloes are the worst of all. It is dangerous to go about here on foot, as the cattle are excited at seeing a white man walking, though they pay little attention to a native. The herds are watched by herdsmen, to prevent their straying off the pasture-grounds, and also to guard them against thieves, who are sufficiently numerous to cause considerable loss if not closely watched. Sometimes the herds become alarmed from various causes, and then a frightful stampede occurs, in which they run for miles. On this very estate I once narrowly escaped being trampled to death in a stampede of a herd of buffaloes; they had taken fright at the rumbling of the ground during an earthquake, and in their headlong flight they nearly ran down my horse and myself. I just managed to get out of the way; if my horse had stumbled and thrown me, my death would have been certain.

"They are dangerous animals to encounter in hunting," he continued, "as they will face a man who attacks them, and attempt to pierce him with their terrible horns. Perhaps you would like to hear of my first buffalo-hunt in Luzon."

The boys answered that it would give them great pleasure to listen to the story, as it would certainly be very interesting.

"Then I will tell you about it," was the reply. "It was in the mountains, some distance in the interior, where the country is very thinly settled, and the animals are entirely wild. The mode of hunting is to station yourself on the edge of a wood which is known to contain buffaloes; you must have a gun on which you can depend, and, above all, you must have full possession of your nerves. When all is ready, you send two or three Indians with dogs into the woods, to beat up the game and rouse him to the proper condition of anger. This is what I did, and I stood for at least half an hour without hearing a sound.

"The Indians remove nearly all their clothing, so that they can climb trees and get out of the way of the infuriated buffalo whenever he charges at them, and only the most active of the young Indians are selected for this work. By-and-by I heard the barking of the dogs; it kept coming nearer and nearer, and in a little while one of the Indians showed himself at the edge of the forest and sprung into the limbs of the nearest tree. I brought my rifle to my shoulder, and stood ready to receive the assailant. As he came out of the forest, he stopped a moment, as if bewildered at not seeing the Indian; when he looked around his eyes rested on me, and then he came onward, crashing through the small bushes, and trampling down everything that stood in his way.

"He made straight for me, as if intending to run me down, and did not pause till he was not ten paces away. Then he halted for a few seconds, and lowered his head to rush upon me with his horns.

"This is the critical moment when the hunter should deliver his fire, and he must aim directly at the centre of the animal's forehead. If the gun misses fire, or he fails of his aim, he is lost.

SHOOTING A BUFFALO.

"I fired just at the right time, and the bullet went straight to its mark. The buffalo made his plunge as he had intended, but instead of piercing me with his horns, he fell dead at my feet. The Indians then came up and praised my coolness, and predicted that I would become a famous hunter. I have shot a good many buffaloes since then, but it is fair to say I always have some one near me to deliver a shot in case my rifle should fail, and I stand close to a tree, and am prepared to jump behind it if possible. This is a precaution that every one should take, as you can never be certain that your gun will not miss fire, or your shot may fail to pierce the thick skull of the buffalo."

Frank asked how much the buffalo of the Philippines was like that of the United States.

"He is included in the same genus," was the reply, "but the species is quite distinct. The American animal is misnamed when he is called buffalo; he is properly the bison, and his scientific name is Bos Americanus, while the Luzon buffalo is described as the Bos Arna. The buffalo of the Philippines is an animal of more docility than the ox when properly domesticated, and is capable of rendering more services to man than his patient brother. But he must be tamed when very young—less than a year old; if suffered to reach two or three years without restraint, he is sure to be vicious, and is of no use except to be converted into beef. He is stronger than the ox, and will live on coarser food; he eats the bushes and vines that the ox refuses, and he is fond of aquatic plants, as well as those that grow on the slopes of the hills. When the heat is great, he takes to the water, and will spend the whole day there, browsing on the lilies and other things that grow in it. He stirs up the roots with his feet and devours them, and he will even hold his head under water to reach what is growing on the bottom.

A NATIVE PLOUGH IN LUZON.

"It would be difficult to name all the services he performs for the natives. If you look at Gironiere's book, you will find it stated that the Indian associates the buffalo with nearly everything he does, and from my observation I fully believe it. With the buffalo he ploughs, and on his back he rides or transports articles across mountains, by paths where even a mule would be unable to go. The Indian also uses the buffalo for crossing rivers and small lakes; he sits or stands on the broad back of the animal, which patiently enters the water, and often drags behind him a small cart that floats on the surface. As you go farther into the country you will see more of the buffalo, and learn how to appreciate him."

A BUFFALO YOKE.

At this point of the conversation the party arrived at the edge of a field where some twenty or more natives were at work, under the charge of a half-caste overseer. Some were ploughing with buffaloes or oxen, and others were driving the same animals in harrows. The boys stopped to examine the implements used by the natives, and found they were of a character that would be called exceedingly primitive in America. The plough consisted of only four pieces of wood and two of iron, and the workmanship was such that almost any man could produce with a few rough tools. Their guide told them that the wood came from the forests of Luzon, and cost only a few cents, and the pieces of iron for mould-board and share were sold in Manilla for half a dollar the set.

The next thing considered was the yoke for the buffalo; and while Frank sketched the plough, Fred made a drawing of the yoke, which was a single piece of wood made to fit the animal's neck, and bring the draught to the middle of the shoulder. It was held in place by a short rope passing under the neck, and the traces were fastened to the ends of the wood. "A plough, yoke, and traces, for a single buffalo, ought not to cost more than a dollar," Fred remarked; and the Doctor quite agreed with him. The further observation was made that when two or more buffaloes were used, they were harnessed "tandem," and not side by side as with oxen in most parts of the world.

NATIVE WOODEN PLOUGH AND YOKE FOR OXEN.

A stronger and heavier plough was shown to our friends, and Mr. Segovia explained that it was intended for oxen instead of buffaloes, and was used for stirring the ground where the lighter plough was insufficient. Frank observed that the yoke was not supplied with bows, after the American plan, but had a couple of upright pins at each end to enclose the neck of the ox. When the team is to be made up, the yoke is held over the necks of the animals, and dropped into place; and if they are at all restive, the space at the lower ends of the pins is closed by means of a cord. A rope, instead of a chain, forms the connection between the yoke and the beam of the plough. The latter has only one handle, on the theory that the ploughman needs the use of one of his hands for guiding his team, and consequently a double hold on the plough is impossible.

THE COMB HARROW.

From the ploughing-ground they passed a little farther on to where a stretch of muddy ground was being harrowed, so as to make it ready for planting rice. Two or three inches of water covered the ground, and the object of the harrowing was to convert the water and earth into a bed of liquid mud. For this purpose a novel kind of implement was used; it was called a comb harrow, and had a single row of iron teeth fixed in a wooden frame. The traces of the buffalo were fastened so that they had a tendency to draw the teeth forward, and the machine was steadied by a handle or cross-bar parallel to the beam in which the teeth were placed. It was a simple and very effective instrument, and Frank thought it might be used to advantage on certain parts of his father's farm in America.

The soil of the Philippine Islands is, in general, so rich that it yields very bountifully; and, as it is in the tropics, there is no season of frost, and snow, when cultivation must cease. Agriculture goes on through the entire year, and on some parts of the soil three and occasionally four crops can be raised. The year is divided into the wet season and the dry; in the former, the rain falls in torrents, and fills the rivers and lakes, together with artificial reservoirs, where water is stored for irrigating the fields in the time of drought. Crops are made to follow each other so that the soil may not be exhausted by repetitions; thus, in the mountain districts, it is customary to plant the ground with rice, and, as soon as it is gathered, it is followed by a planting of tobacco.

Formerly the island of Luzon produced large quantities of pepper for exportation, but at present there is hardly enough grown there to supply the local demand. Fred asked the reason of this, and was told the following story:

"The price of pepper was fixed by a measure called a ganta, which was used by both sellers and buyers. The Philippine Company had the monopoly of the pepper-trade, and were making a fine profit out of it, but it seems they were not satisfied to let well enough alone. One year, when the pepper-growers came to Manilla to sell their product for the season, they found that the agents of the Company had altered the measure by making the ganta of the Company double the ganta of the Indians, so that the sellers were enormously cheated. The Indians were angry at this trick, and immediately went home, destroyed their pepper plantations, and devoted their attention to other articles of culture."

"Served the Company right," said the boys, "provided the poor Indians were able to get along with something else."

"As to that," was the reply, "they were not likely to suffer, as they could raise tobacco, rice, sugar, and two or three other things, on the same ground; but it is proper to say that there are few articles that can be cultivated as easily as pepper. Pepper requires very little care; all that is needed is to take a little twig of it, bend the two ends together, cover the middle with a little earth, and tie the ends to a prop of wood six or eight feet long. The plant grows and clings to the prop till it reaches its top, and there it stays and takes care of itself. The owner has only to remove the weeds once in a while, and to stir up the earth around the foot of the plant so that it can absorb plenty of moisture. The grains are gathered as fast as they change from green to black, and are then spread out in the sun and dried."

TAGAL INDIANS CLEANING RICE.

[CHAPTER VI.]

HUNTING IN LUZON.—CROCODILES AND GREAT SNAKES.

From the fields where they saw the natives at work, our friends proceeded on their ride. Sometimes they were in the open country, and then in the forest; and as they rode along, their guide called their attention to many things of interest. The forest was rich and luxuriant, and sometimes the vines and creepers were so numerous that it was difficult to proceed. There were pitcher-plants hanging from the trees, and two or three times the excursionists drank from them to slake their thirst. A wild boar was roused from his lair, but, as the party was unprovided with hunting weapons, he was not pursued, and the same was the case with a deer that came bounding across their path. In one part of the forest several wild monkeys chattered from the tops of the trees, and made grimaces at the intruders; but they were not otherwise disturbed than by the presence of the strangers.

They came at length to the shore of the lake, and dismounted. The boys suggested that a bath in the tepid water would be agreeable; but their guide shook his head very impressively, and remarked that their lives would not be worth much after they took their first plunge.

"Why so?" inquired one of the boys.

"Because," was the reply, "the lake swarms with crocodiles, and you would be in the jaws of one of them before you could swim a dozen yards."

As he spoke, he pointed to a dark object on the surface of the water a hundred yards or so from shore. At first glance it appeared like a log of wood, and so the strangers would have considered it but for the special direction they had received.

The boys regarded it a few moments with great attention, and then Fred cried out,

"I believe it's the head of a crocodile!"

"And I, too," said Frank. "Perhaps he'd like to have us take a bath here; but we won't do anything of the kind."

"It is quite unsafe to bathe here," said Mr. Segovia, "and after what you have seen you are not likely to venture; but we will mount our horses, and ride a few miles back from the lake to where there is a pretty cascade with a fine pool below it; there you may have a bath without the least danger."

CASCADE NEAR JALA-JALA.

They suited the action to the word, and were off on the instant. A smart ride of half an hour brought them to the cascade, which is on the estate of Jala-jala, and the boys were soon having a gay time in the pure water that came rolling over the rocks. The Doctor sat down on the bank and made a sketch of the scene, and the native guides climbed to a niche half-way up the rocky side of the cascade by means of a long liana, or hanging plant, that abounds in the forests of the Eastern islands. After half an hour at the cascade the party returned to their horses, which were waiting a short distance away, and as the afternoon was well advanced, it was determined to make all haste to the house, where dinner would be awaiting them, in accordance with the promise of their host.

THE HOUSE AT JALA-JALA.

On the way back, Mr. Segovia had a short conference with Doctor Bronson while the boys were riding ahead. It was evidently concerning Frank and Fred, as the Doctor assured his friend that the youths were both of excellent disposition, and could be relied upon in an emergency. "If you take them along," said he, "you will find they will be perfectly cool and self-possessed, and will not make the least interference with any of your plans."

"In that case," the gentleman responded, "it is all right, and we will make the excursion to-morrow."

Frank and Fred overheard the latter part of the conversation, but they were too well bred to ask any questions. They were satisfied to let events develop themselves, and meantime they devoted their attention to the practical matters that surrounded them.

"What an interesting ride we've had!" said Fred, as they passed near a rice-field where the young plants were just pushing above the ground. "I might get tired of looking at these rice-fields after a while, but don't see any signs of it yet."

"What I would like to see," Frank responded, "is a string of fields with all the different kinds of rice growing side by side. How many do you suppose there are?"

"I can't tell, I'm sure."

STACKING RICE IN THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS.

"One of the books we bought says there are more than thirty kinds of rice grown in the Philippine Islands, all quite distinct in color, form, and weight of the grain. They are divided into two classes—mountain rice and aquatic rice; but the mountain variety can be treated just like the aquatic rice, and it will grow."

"Mountain rice," Fred continued, "grows on the higher ground, where it is not liable to inundations from the rivers, but the aquatic rice needs a great deal of water, and the fields must be very moist all the time it is growing, or till it gets near ripening. It is like the rice raised in the United States, and in Japan and China; and the rice-swamps of Luzon are probably just as unhealthy as those of the Southern States of America, that we used to hear so much about."

"Do all the kinds of rice yield the same?" Frank asked.

"Some of them are better than others," Fred answered; "at least the book says so. Some kinds return thirty, some forty, and some eighty fold—that is, from a bushel of seed they get thirty, forty, or eighty bushels. The best rice generally does not yield so well as the poorer varieties, so that what they make up in one way they lose in another by the end of the year."

"When the rice is harvested it is put up in high stacks, with a roof of pandanus-leaves on top to keep out the wet. That must be a rice stack over there," said Fred, as he pointed to a circular enclosure a little distance away. "Yes, and there are several stacks with a fence around them, and a clump of bamboo-trees in the centre. I suppose they put the rice there to dry, and when it is ready it will be thrashed out."

They passed the enclosure, and a little farther on there was a group of Indians engaged in pounding rice to separate the grain from the husk. The apparatus was exceedingly primitive, being simply a mortar with a heavy pestle, which was raised in the air and then brought down with all the power of the person who was wielding it. Just then the Doctor and Mr. Segovia rode up, and the latter explained that, while mills for cleaning rice were in use all over the islands wherever rice was grown, many of the natives preferred the old process, and were contented with the mortar and pestle. "In the back regions," said he, "where mills are scarce, they thrash the rice from the stalk by treading it out with buffaloes, and remove the hulls as you see them now."

Frank asked if there was any variation in the rice-crop from year to year, so as to make its cultivation a matter of uncertainty.

THE PHILIPPINE LOCUST.

"There is not much variation," said the gentleman, "but we can never be certain of a crop till it is gathered. A short supply of water may dry up the fields, and too much rain may inundate them and wash the plants out, but this is not often. The greatest uncertainty is with the locusts, as they come suddenly, and sometimes destroy an entire crop in a day or two."

"How often do you have the locusts?" one of the boys asked.

"About once in seven years," was the reply. "They come from the islands farther south, and you can hardly realize the desolation they make till you have seen it. A reddish-colored cloud is seen on the horizon; it comes nearer and nearer, and is frequently ten or twelve miles from one side to the other, and occupies five or six hours in passing over. This cloud is formed of millions and millions of locusts, and sometimes it is so dense that the sun is darkened the same as when a thunder-shower rises. If the locusts perceive a green field they fall upon it, and in an hour every vestige of verdure has disappeared; then they rise and move on to join their companions in the air, and the different parts of the column seem to take turns in feeding. When enough have come down to cover a field, the rest move on, and those who have satisfied their appetites take their places in the rear. In the evening they halt in a forest and rest on the limbs of the trees, and frequently so many of them cover a limb that it breaks off and falls to the ground. When they leave in the morning, the forest looks as though every tree had been struck and shattered by lightning; the leaves are all gone, the limbs are broken, and the ground is strewn with the scattered fragments. At certain periods they remain on broad plains, or the sides of fertile mountains, and lay their eggs. Three weeks later the eggs are hatched, and the young locusts appear; they live upon whatever green food they can find till their wings are formed, and then they fly away to do their work of devastation."

Dinner was ready on their arrival at the house, and the party sat down to it with excellent appetites—the result of their ride over the estate. All went to bed early, as the hint was given that the next day would be a fatiguing one. But the character of the sport to be provided was not given.

They breakfasted early, and immediately started in a boat that was ready at the little pier in front of the house. Two boats had already gone ahead of them, and while the boys were wondering what was to be done, the Doctor called their attention to something below the surface of the water. The boys looked, and speedily discovered that the strange object was a huge crocodile.

"There's no fear of him," said Mr. Segovia, "as he happens to be dead."

"How was he killed?" Frank asked.

"I can't say positively," their guide replied, "but he has probably been shot at by somebody, and died in consequence."

"The crocodile is very difficult to kill, as his scaly hide will turn a bullet, except in a few places. The most vulnerable point is behind the foreleg, where the skin is comparatively thin; and if you can creep up to within fifty yards of a sleeping crocodile, and lodge a ball in that spot, he is done for. If you make use of explosive balls, so much the better, as you then tear a great hole in him, and disturb his organs of digestion and respiration. Nineteen-twentieths of the crocodiles that are shot at escape apparently unharmed, but we have the satisfaction of knowing that many of them afterward die from the effect of their wounds."

"How is that?"

"If a crocodile has ever so small a scratch in his skin, it is his death-warrant. He lies down to sleep in the mud, the shrimps find the scratch and begin eating at it, and in a little while they enlarge it to a huge wound. They continue to eat away at it, are joined by other occupants of the water, and in the course of a week or two the crocodile is literally devoured. He has nothing to do but die, and so he climbs to a sand-bank or sinks to the bottom of the lake, and ceases to be a terror to the inhabitants of the shore.

A NATIVE WOMAN SEIZED BY A CROCODILE.

"I was one day down by the shore of the lake," the gentleman continued, "where a little stream flows in from the forest. One of the female servants of the house was sitting near the bank, when a huge crocodile rose suddenly from the water and seized her. A herdsman was on the opposite bank of the stream with his rifle; he fired, but apparently to no purpose, as the crocodile disappeared into the water, and carried the unfortunate woman with him. A month later his body was found on a sand-bank several miles away, and an examination showed that the shrimps had made an entrance through the scratch caused by the bullet, and as soon as this was done the death of the crocodile was only a question of time. The identity of the murderer was established by the earrings of the woman in his stomach.

A HUGE CAPTIVE.

"I once had a fight of three or four hours with a crocodile that had entered a narrow lagoon connecting with the lake, and seized a horseman who was crossing. We made a strong net of ropes, and stretched it across the entrance of the lagoon to prevent his escape into the lake; then we lashed two canoes side by side, and with long poles stirred the bottom till he rose to the surface. As he opened his mouth to attack us, we sent a couple of explosive balls down his throat with as many Remington rifles, and another was lodged in his skin under the foreleg, when he turned about to dive. He went down and tried to break through the net, but it was too strong for him, and then it took an hour or more to urge him to show himself again. We fired nearly a dozen balls into him, and at last he caught his head in the net when he was about expiring; we drew him to the shore, and found, on taking his measurement, that he was twenty-seven feet long, and had a girth of eleven feet around the body just behind the fore-legs.

"So much for the crocodile, but we are not going to hunt him to-day; we are in pursuit of game that lives on land, and is not amphibious. If fortune favors us we will capture a wild boar, and perhaps we may find something else before the day is over."

Then it became clear to the boys what was meant by the boats in advance. They contained the dogs, guns, ammunition, provisions, and other things for the day's sport, together with a dozen or more men to act as beaters, and stir up the game. The Doctor told them they were bound for a point half a dozen miles up the shore, where horses had been sent around by land to meet them.

In due time the hunting-party was at the appointed place, and the beaters set out for their share of the work, followed by the hunters. It was expected that a wild boar would be stirred up not more than a mile or two away, as this kind of game was plentiful, and had not been much hunted of late. In fact, one was stirred up, but in a manner quite different from what had been looked for.

A WILD BOAR ATTACKED BY A BOA-CONSTRICTOR.

While the party was on its way through the forest to the point where the hunt was to begin, the screams of a wild boar were heard, as though the animal was in great agony. Mr. Segovia was the first to hear the sound, and immediately he dashed off, and was followed by the rest. The sound appeared to come from a tall tree that could be seen rising above the rest; the brushwood near it was so dense that the horses could not get through, and so our friends dismounted and proceeded on foot. The sight that met their eyes was an astonishment to the boys!

A great snake had caught a wild boar in his coils, and was slowly lifting him from the ground, while the victim was manifesting his terror in his loudest tones. The Doctor was about to fire at the snake, but at a sign from Mr. Segovia he stopped, and the party stood in a place of concealment to see the end of the combat between, as Frank expressed it, "the boa and the boar."

When he had lifted the boar clear from the ground the snake swung him against the tree, crushing his bones and killing him. Then he let his prey fall, and proceeded to unwind himself and descend preparatory to eating his breakfast. As he loosened his coil the signal was given for the Doctor to fire; and, as he had an explosive bullet in his rifle, he shattered the head of the snake completely. The serpent fell to the ground at once; he lashed the trees and bushes in a frightful way, but as he was totally blinded by the smashing of his head, he could do no damage to anybody. The attendants came forward and secured some bamboo loops around the reptile's neck, and suspended him from the tree, where he continued to twist and turn till the party moved on. The natives said that these contortions would continue for hours, and that they rarely ceased till sundown, even though the head of the snake had been detached before noon.

As they moved on to their hunting-ground, our friends discussed the incident of the morning, and wondered if they would see anything more of the same sort. Mr. Segovia told the boys that the boa-constrictor was a very common snake in the Philippines, and sometimes grew to great size, though less so than in Sumatra and Borneo. "He is far less dangerous than you might suppose," said he, "as he rarely attacks man, and there is no poison in his bite; in fact, he has no bite at all, and his mode of killing his prey is by crushing it as you have just seen. Once in a while a native is killed by a boa, but the occurrence is rare, and generally owing to the carelessness of the victim rather than the superior cunning of the snake. He is not very active in his ordinary movements, but if roused he can display considerable agility, when the size of his body is considered.

FIGHT WITH A GREAT SNAKE.

"I once had a fight with a boa that had taken refuge in a crevice among the rocks, where my dogs found him. They barked furiously, and the snake tried to reach them with his jaws, but they were very agile in their movements, and managed to elude him. I came up with my men, and sheltering myself behind a rock close to the crevice, took careful aim, reserving my fire till his head was poised for a blow. I put a large ball through his head, and soon afterward another through his body, and then his writhings were furious; he twined himself round the rocks and bushes within his reach, and in so doing overturned a large rock, that fell on one of his folds and pinned him down. In this position he continued to dart his head from side to side with great rapidity, and with such force that a blow from it would have been no small matter. In an hour or so his strength gave way; I had sent one of my men for assistance in skinning the snake, and by the time the re-enforcements arrived the reptile was in a condition to be lashed up to the nearest tree. He measured nearly seventeen feet in length, and his skin was most beautifully marked.

"There are several venomous serpents in the Philippines, one of the most dangerous being the dajon-palay, or rice-leaf. The only antidote to its bite is to burn the wound with a red-hot iron or live coal, and this operation must be performed very quickly, to prevent the spread of the poison. There is another called the alin-morani, which is as bad as the other, and perhaps worse, as it makes a wound that is deeper, and therefore more difficult to cauterize. It grows to the length of eight or ten feet, and lives in the thickest part of the forest; its habitation may sometimes be known by observing the movements of the eagles, and the prudent hunter will keep as far away from it as possible. The eagles are its great enemy, and attack it fiercely; two of them generally fight together, and in such a case the snake has very little chance of escape."

A STAG-HUNT IN LUZON WITH HORSES AND DOGS.

[CHAPTER VII.]

HUNTING THE DEER AND WILD BOAR.—RESULTS OF THE CHASE.

A little while after the incident with the snake the party came to where the servants were waiting for them with breakfast: according to the custom of the East, the early meal taken at the house was a slight affair, so that by the middle of the forenoon one is apt to get fairly hungry. They sat down under a shady tree, and discussed the good things before them with a relish that came from the walk and ride through the open air and the excitement of the scenes of the morning. The boys were much amused at seeing the way the natives cooked their rice in a piece of bamboo, and served it up all fresh and hot. This is the process:

A green bamboo is cut in the forest, and one of the hollow joints is separated from the rest of the stalk; the rice is put inside the bamboo, with a sufficient quantity of water to cook it, and then both ends are loosely closed. The bamboo is then laid in the fire as if to burn it; it gets somewhat charred on the outside, but, before it reaches the point of burning through, the rice is cooked and ready to be poured out. Thus you can always be sure, in the region of the bamboo, of having a kettle for cooking your rice, although you have not brought one along.

When breakfast was over the hunters were assigned to their various stands, as the hunt was to be of the kind known as a battue. The beaters go out and drive up the game, which is induced to run in the direction where the marksmen are standing to receive it; the latter have nothing to do but remain quiet, and shoot at the animals as they go past them. There was a sufficient number of guns for the three strangers as well as their host, and so the boys were assigned to places by themselves, instead of standing with their elders. Quite naturally, they were proud of the honor thus shown them, and each was hoping very earnestly, though he did not say so aloud, to do something worthy of the occasion.

They were instructed not to fire except in certain directions, lest they might endanger the lives of others, and they faithfully promised not to violate the order; then, when the horn was blown in a particular way, they were not to fire at all, as the beaters would be close upon them, though invisible through the underbrush, and might be hurt through carelessness.

"It is an even chance," the Doctor remarked, "whether we get a deer or a wild boar first. The latter are the more numerous in this forest, but the others are the best runners, and the more easily disturbed. We will see."

A HOWLING MONKEY.

So saying, he went to his post, while the boys went to theirs. For half an hour or so there was nothing to indicate the possibility of game, with the exception of some monkeys in a neighboring tree, that kept up a perpetual chatter on account of the disturbance of their seclusion. There were several varieties of these brutes, but they kept so far away that their character could not well be made out. There was one kind, larger than the rest, that appeared to be a champion howler, as he occasionally set up a most unearthly noise that could have been heard for a long distance. Frank had a good view of one, and said he was a sort of maroon color, with a red beard, and had a swelling under his neck, from which he brought out the music. "He seems to enjoy it," said Frank, "and if he can be happy by making such an outrageous tumult, by all means let him have his fun."

DEER IN A TROPICAL FOREST.

By-and-by the barking of the dogs was heard in the distance; it slowly approached, and then everybody made ready to do the best possible work with his weapon. A crash was heard among the brushwood, and soon a fine deer came bounding out of the wood, and ran directly toward Fred's place.

Fred brought his gun to his shoulder, and when the deer was not more than twenty feet away the youth fired. The aim was good, and the whole charge passed into the shoulder of the animal just over the region of the heart. With one bound he fell dead at the feet of the young hunter.

A moment later came the report of Frank's gun, and with a result equal to that of Fred's shot. The two boys were about to give a loud hurrah, when the Doctor motioned them to silence; it was his turn and that of their host to have a chance at something.

In less than ten minutes two other deer appeared, and were brought down by the guns of the elders of the party. Another deer ran past them, but he was too far away for a good shot, and as they now had plenty of venison, they allowed him to go unharmed.

The beaters soon appeared, and then the deer-hunt was declared at an end. "We will now go," said Mr. Segovia, "to a place where there are plenty of wild boars and fewer deer. Unless you have a most excellent opportunity for a shot, do not trouble yourself about deer, but devote your attentions to the wild boars, which you will find no easy brutes to kill."

"And perhaps," the Doctor added, "you may as well let the largest of them go undisturbed, and only shoot the young fellows; the old boars are dangerous when wounded, and we don't want to go home with holes torn in our skins by their tusks."

POND SCENE IN LUZON.

The boys promised to obey the directions that had been given, and took the places assigned to them. They were not far from a little pond, which had a thick growth of tropical trees and plants all round it, and there was so little wind blowing that the water was like a mirror, and reflected its banks with great distinctness. Frank was so intent upon studying the picture that he did not pay proper attention to the hunt, and before he was aware of it a fair-sized pig had dashed by him, and disappeared in the thick underbrush.

A moment later a shot was heard from the Doctor's gun, and then another came ringing through the woods, followed by a shout from Fred for assistance. Frank ran to his cousin, and found that he had wounded a boar, but had not killed him, and while he was reloading his gun the weapon became clogged, and the cartridge would neither go back nor forward. The boar was dashing wildly about, and threatening danger to the youth; the latter was endeavoring to keep a tree between himself and the infuriated beast, and, with his disabled gun in his hand, was somewhat awkwardly situated.

"Finish him! finish him!" said Fred, "and be quick about it!"

Frank performed the finishing touch almost as soon as Fred pronounced the words. The boar fell dead at the shot, and gave Fred the opportunity to devote his entire attention to putting his gun into a serviceable condition again. In a few minutes the refractory cartridge was removed, and then the boys surveyed their game.

"Seems to me he's a good-sized one," said Fred; "and see, he has a pair of tusks; they are not large, but we must keep them as a trophy of our day's hunting in Luzon."

"Yes," replied Frank, "but how shall we divide a pair of tusks? We must shoot another like him, and then we can have a fair trophy for each of us."

"We'll stay here together," Fred answered, "and when the next one comes we'll both shoot him, and the honors will be equal."

Just as he spoke there was another crash in the bushes, and a boar, that might have been a brother of the dead one, made his appearance. Frank was first to fire, and Fred immediately followed with a shot. Between them they killed the animal, and in such a way that neither could claim all the glory of the slaughter. As Fred had predicted, the honor was divided, and they were partners in possession of the game.

Other shots soon followed from the Doctor and their host; and then there was a long interval, with not a sound to break the stillness. Then the beaters made their appearance; the horn was blown to announce the end of the hunt, and the party assembled for the return homeward. Everybody was in fine spirits, as the chase had been successful, not only for the party collectively, but for each individual. The attendants went to collect the game, and, when it was all brought together, there was a goodly amount of it. Four deer and seven wild hogs comprised the result of the day's shooting, without counting the snake; Frank thought the latter should be included, and remarked that snake-shooting was fairly entitled to be ranked as hunting, when the snake was a large one.

A PAVAVA.

The transportation of the game was something to be considered. Mr. Segovia solved the problem by suggesting that he had sent to an Indian village, a mile or so away, for a pavava. This and the pack-horses would be sufficient; but he had told the attendant to bring a couple of pavavas if he could get them.

One of the boys very naturally inquired what a pavava was, as he had never heard the word before.

"We shall meet it on our way to the boat," was the reply. "It is a sort of sled or cart made by the Indians, and used for purposes of transportation, and it is drawn by a single buffalo. There are a couple of runners which curve so that their rear ends only rest on the ground, while the front of the vehicle is supported by the shafts. The frame and body of the pavava are of bamboo, and so are the shafts; the collar of the buffalo is of heavier wood, and the roof of the concern is of pandanus-leaves, over a frame of light bamboo. It is so light that a man can easily lift it, and it will hold as heavy a load as one buffalo can draw."

Having acquired this information, the boys next wished to know something about the wild boar, and especially about those they had killed—whether they were to be considered first, second, or third class. On this subject the Doctor enlightened them.

"The ones you have killed," said he, "are probably about two years old, and therefore are not first class. The boar does not attain his full size and strength till he is four years old; the proper classification is like this: first year, pig of the saunder, or briefly 'pig;' second year, hog of the second, or 'hog;' third year, hog-steer; and fourth year, and afterward, wild boar, or sanglier. You have killed a pair of 'hogs,' and very good ones they are. They probably weigh about two hundred pounds each, and when we get to Jala-jala we will put them on the Fairbanks scales we saw there yesterday, and see how far out I am in my guessing."

Frank wished to know if these animals were natives of the Philippine Islands, or had been brought there from some other country.

"The hog was originally unknown in a natural condition in America, Australia, and the Pacific islands," replied Doctor Bronson, "and his presence there is due to the early navigators, who turned pigs loose in the forests, and allowed them to shift for themselves. The Spaniards did so in the Philippines three hundred years ago, and it is to them that we owe the great number in the forests of Luzon. Those you have killed are descended from the original importations of the Spaniards, just as the wild hogs in the forests of South America, and on the many islands of the Pacific, are descended from those left by Captain Cook and other explorers."

Fred asked how large these animals became when left to themselves for years in the forest.

"That depends on circumstances," the Doctor answered. "Some of them have been known to weigh four hundred pounds, and occasionally you hear of one that tips the scale at five hundred. I saw one in India that weighed four hundred and fifty-six pounds, and had tusks about ten inches long. The peculiarity of the wild boar is his powerful tusks; they have an awkward appearance, but he can do terrible execution with them, ripping up the flank of a horse as though the horn of a bull had passed through it, and tearing a dog or man to pieces in a few moments. As I told you, when we started in on the hunt, it is well to be cautious about attacking a full-grown boar, on account of the danger from his tusks."

SKULL OF BABIRUSA.

"In some of the islands of the Malay Archipelago," he continued, "there is a species of wild hog called the babirusa, that does not seem to belong to the hog family as we know it. Its legs are longer, and its body is more slender than in the rest of the swine species; it does not root in the ground, but lives on the fruit which falls from the trees. The tusks of the lower jaw are very long and sharp, but the upper ones, instead of growing downward in the usual way, are curved upward and backward to near the eyes, and sometimes they attain a length of eight or ten inches. These tusks do not seem to be of any use, except to protect the eyes from the thorns of the trees and bushes where the animal lives. The babirusa is quite as fierce as the ordinary wild boar, and is more fond of the water. He will take to a pond or river when pursued, and is said to swim with great ease."

"The chase of the wild boar has been a recognized sport in all ages; we read of it in ancient histories as well as in modern ones, and in certain periods of the world it was more fashionable than any other form of hunting. During the Middle Ages it was highly popular in England and on the Continent, but in our day the wild boar has disappeared from England entirely, and is only found in a few parts of Europe. The best localities for hunting him in Europe are in Greece and Italy, but if you want the sport in all its glory you must go to India. One of the great amusements of the British officers in India is "pig-sticking," as it is called, and those who have indulged in it say that the excitement of a pig-chase equals anything they have ever seen."

The conversation was here interrupted by meeting the pavava that had been sent for to bring home the game from the forest. Mr. Segovia gave some directions concerning the work in hand, and then the party rode rapidly to the boat that lay waiting for them. There was a light breeze blowing in the right direction, and so a quick passage was made back to Jala-jala. There was enough to talk about for the evening, and neither of the boys could keep his thoughts away from the fact that he had shot a deer and a boar on the same day, and assisted in the slaughter of a boa-constrictor. It was glory enough for twenty-four hours at least, Frank said, as he went to bed; Fred thought it could be spread over three or four days without becoming too thin, and even a month would not be too much.

"A deer, a hog, and a share in a snake," murmured Fred, as he settled his head on his pillow.

"A wild hog, a deer, and a share in a snake-fight," whispered Frank to himself, as he dropped off to sleep. "Wonder what Miss Effie and Mary will say to that? I declare I haven't written home since we left Java; but then there hasn't been time, and besides we've had no chance to send letters. I must ask the Doctor in the morning when there is a mail for America, and how it goes."

A moment later he was in the land of dreams.

The question relative to the postal facilities of the Philippines was duly propounded in the morning, and received the following answer:

"There is a steamer once a fortnight each way between Manilla and Hong-Kong; the distance is 650 miles, and the voyage usually occupies about three days. It is nearly the same distance to Singapore; in the busy season there is a semi-monthly steamer to Singapore, but it is not generally maintained through the whole year. For letters to America the quickest route is via Hong-Kong, whence there is a mail twice a month to Yokohama and San Francisco. The last mail for Hong-Kong left Manilla a day before your arrival, and so you have plenty of time to get your letters ready for the next.

"At the time of year when the crops have been harvested, and the product is going forward to the European market, there are many irregular steamers from Manilla to Singapore, and also to Hong-Kong. There are also sailing-ships bound for European and American ports, though not as many as from one of the great ports of China or Japan. We shall have no difficulty in getting away from the islands, as we had no difficulty in getting here; though we may possibly be compelled to wait a few days after we are ready to start."

At this moment a servant came to call our friends to breakfast, and the conversation came to an end. During breakfast it was announced that an excursion would be made on the lake that day, and would start in half an hour.

FRANK'S PRIZE—A BUTTERFLY.

At the appointed time the boys were at the boat, and with the rest of the party. Just before they embarked, Frank saw a handsome butterfly on a stalk near by, and managed to capture it. The Doctor pronounced it a fine specimen, and it was immediately stowed away in the box kept for prizes of this sort.

"First game for the day," said Frank. "Now, who will have the next?"

Fred made no response, but eyed the water intently, as he saw something moving in it close to the shore. Seizing a hand-net that lay on the ground, he made a sudden swoop in the water, and brought up a prize.

FRED'S PRIZE—THE MUD-LAFF.

"Second game for me!" he shouted, as he deposited on the ground a strange-looking fish, with a mouth opening directly upward instead of being placed where the respectable fish is accustomed to have his mouth. Below the head there was a spongy and shapeless mass, with the ventral fins attached, and the whole length of the fish was covered with a glutinous substance that stuck to the grass and weeds, where he had been dropped. Along the back was a row of spines, that rose and fell alternately, as though they were trying to pierce something. Both the boys pronounced the fish the ugliest product of the water they had ever looked upon, and the Doctor said the American sculpin was a model of beauty compared to this monster.

"His scientific name," said Doctor Bronson, "is Synanceia brachia, and he is popularly known as the mud-laff. He abounds in tropical waters, and in most Asiatic countries he is eaten by the natives; but the Europeans will have nothing to do with him. He lies in the mud and weeds at the bottom of rivers, and is quite concealed from view. You observe he has sharp eyes, which peer up through the water and watch for his prey; when it comes in his reach he sucks it in with a single inhalation, and this is why his mouth is so oddly placed. The spines on his back are poisonous, and if you should be pricked with them you would have a painful wound that might last you for weeks. Mr. Pike, in his 'Sub-Tropical Rambles,' tells of a man in the Mauritius who was stung on the sole of his foot by a mud-laff; the foot and leg swelled enormously, and after some days the wound sloughed, leaving a large hole. It was more than two months before the man was able to leave the hospital."

[CHAPTER VIII.]

SHOOTING BATS AND IGUANAS.—VISITING THE HOT SPRINGS.

There were two boats to-day instead of three, and the course was laid for an island three or four miles away. On the way thither their host intimated that they were to have a kind of sport they had never seen in America, and perhaps had never heard of. It might be a disappointment, as it did not require much skill, but in any event it would be a novelty. "Wait till we get there," said he, "and then you will know what it is.

"If we have time," he continued, "I will show you a very curious place called the Lake of Socolme."

"Is it beyond this lake?" one of the boys asked, as he glanced around, and concluded that the question of time was very doubtful.

"No, it is in this lake," was the reply, "or rather it is in an island of the lake. Socolme is an island about three miles in circumference, and is supposed to be the top of an extinct volcano with a lake or pond in its crater. The island is two or three hundred feet high, and the pond is in the centre of it, and at a higher elevation than the great lake. The pond has been sounded and found to be three hundred feet in depth, while there are not more than seventy-five feet of water in any part of the lake.

"The curious thing about Socolme is the vast numbers of crocodiles that inhabit it. They are so numerous, and so dangerous, that the Indians will not go there alone, and it is with the greatest difficulty that we can persuade them to accompany us when we make an excursion there. Sometimes hundreds of these reptiles are visible, and they are of the largest size; what it is that keeps them there I cannot say, but presume they find something specially attractive in the depth of the water.

"The birds have found that the Indians do not molest them on Socolme, and so they go there to lay their eggs. Every tree on the shores of the little lake is white with guano, and the limbs are crowded with nests which are filled with eggs and birds during the breeding season.

"On the shore opposite Socolme there are several springs of hot water, and the place is generally known as 'Los Banos,' or 'The Baths.' There are plenty of wild pigeons there, and any one who is fond of shooting pigeons can have all the sport he wants.

"A few miles farther to the east is a sand-bank, where the turtles go to lay their eggs; unfortunately it is not the season for them now, or I would take you there. The turtles come up in the night to deposit their eggs, and return to the water before sunrise, so that when the natives want any of the turtles they must hunt them by moonlight; but the eggs are a different matter, and when the Indians know where they are, they can find them at their leisure."

Fred suggested that if the turtle covered his eggs over, it must require considerable skill to find a nest.

INDIANS HUNTING TURTLE'S EGGS.

"You are quite right," was the reply. "The Indians follow the tracks of the turtles in the sand, but there are so many of them that it is no easy matter. The turtle digs a trench in the sand about two feet deep with his broad paws, and then deposits the eggs and covers them. He smooths the sand over with his shell and goes away, and if he is favored by a shower just after his departure, you might think he had concealed his nest completely. But the Indian knows how to discover the deposit; he takes a blunt stick and thrusts it into the sand, and wherever it goes in easily he begins to dig with his hands. After a little practice he becomes so expert that he never makes a mistake, but invariably comes upon eggs. They have a thin but tough shell, and the yolk contains a great deal of oil. The natives eat these eggs raw, but they are too rank for the European stomach, though we use some of them in making omelets and cakes. The Indians crush them in broad trays, and collect the oil which soon rises to the top. Turtle oil is quite an article of commerce."

Frank asked how many eggs were usually found in a nest.

"The number varies a good deal," was the response. "I have seen a hundred and forty taken out of one nest, but usually there are not far from a hundred. It is a curious spectacle to see a dozen or more natives digging away at the sand, some lying at full length, some on their knees, and others bearing baskets full of eggs to the boats tied up to the bank."

Conversation on various topics consumed the time till the party reached one of the islands, and proceeded to land. There were several eagles flying in circles high above the boats, and keeping up a perpetual screaming as if in protest at the coming of the visitors. The Doctor "drew a bead" on one of them with his Remington rifle, and brought him to the ground—or rather to the lake, where one of the natives paddled out and secured the prize. He was a fine fellow, measuring nearly six feet from tip to tip of his extended wings. Frank and Fred wished to try their skill, and brought up the guns they had used the day before, but the Doctor told them nothing but a rifle could have any effect on these birds, owing to the height at which they were flying.

Two or three eagles were shot by the Doctor and his host; the boys each tried to bring down one of the huge birds, but did not succeed, as they had not practised with the rifle, and consequently were not expert in using it. By-and-by the excitement of shooting eagles came to an end, and the party started for the novel sport that had been promised.

A few hundred yards from the landing-place there was a clump of trees, to which the attention of the boys was directed; Frank remarked that the foliage was the darkest he had ever seen on a tree, and Fred suggested that there must have been a shower of ink not long ago, or perhaps the trees grew out of a bed of chimney-soot. Other reasons were given for the blackness of the trees—some of them serious and others jocular—but none were correct.

The Doctor raised his rifle and fired at one of the trees. The game fell to the ground, and Frank ran forward to pick it up.

"Why, it's a bat!" he exclaimed, as he held the prize by an extended wing, "and a large one too."

"Yes," answered the Doctor, "it belongs to the family of vampires; the naturalists call it a roussette, and its genus is pteropus. Its popular name is flying-fox, and the natives find it good eating, though Europeans will not generally touch it. Its fur, you perceive, is soft, and it is often used for the linings of gloves, but in a tropical climate like this it is not of a good quality."

HOW A BAT SLEEPS.

"But what are they doing here on this island?" Fred asked. "And look, the trees are covered with them, all hanging down by their claws and apparently asleep."

"Yes," said Mr. Segovia, "they are asleep, and you may shoot as many of them as you like. What you supposed to be black leaves were in reality bats, and they take the place of the foliage they have destroyed."

"But do they live here all the time?" inquired Frank. "If they do, I should think they would kill the trees by depriving them of the power of growing."

"No," was the reply, "they only stay here during the period of the eastern monsoon. They sleep all day, and go out at night in search of food, and with the rising of the sun, or before it, they are back again. When the eastern monsoon stops, and the western one begins, the bats leave these islands and go away to the east coast of Luzon, and then the trees have a chance to grow. With the return of the eastern monsoon we have the bats again, and then comes our sport in shooting them."

The guns were made ready, and each of the party selected a tree for his own shooting. They loaded and fired as fast as possible for half an hour or more, and every shot brought down at least one bat. At the end of that time the bats were thoroughly alarmed by the noise of the shooting, and flew around in a dense crowd. More of them were killed while circling in the air, till finally they went off in a body, and alighted on a neighboring island where nobody cared to pursue them.

THE IGUANA.

Then the sport changed to shooting iguanas, a species of lizard five or six feet long, that lives among the rocks near the shore of the lake. Several of these were killed; but, as there was no need of skill, our friends were soon satisfied, and concluded not to slaughter any more. When the bats and iguanas that had been shot were piled together at the landing-place, one of the boys very naturally asked, "What will we do with them?"

"As to that," said their host, "it is a question easily answered; we'll give them to our native boatmen, who will be very glad to have such a present. The flesh of both bat and iguana is delicate, but Europeans have a prejudice against it, and so we do not put it on our tables as a regular article of food. If you would like to try it we will have some prepared for dinner, and if you can lay aside prejudice, I am sure you will find it excellent."

The boys concluded they would not venture on an experiment, although they frankly acknowledged that nothing but prejudice kept them from doing so. "The bat," said Fred, "is what we may call a clean feeder, and so is the iguana, if what I have read of their habits is correct; but prejudice is against them, and we will let them alone."

"Yes," responded Frank, continuing on the topic, "none of us have any prejudice against pork, yet the hog is the farthest possible from being a model of neatness in his habits. We would not eat dog or cat, but there is no more dainty animal in the world than a well-reared terrier or house-tabby."

PAUL P. DE LA GIRONIERE.

"On this point," said their host, "I can tell you a good story. Mr. La Gironiere, who formerly owned Jala-jala, used to bring his guests over here for the same sport you have been enjoying. One day he had in his party a couple of Americans, and on the way back one of them said they would like to try the flesh of the bat and the iguana. Thinking they were in earnest, the host told his cook to make a curry of iguana, and a ragout, or stew, of bat, and serve them for dinner. The cook did as he was ordered, and the first dish on the table was the curry. Everybody ate heartily, and pronounced the curry excellent; and then the host ventured to remark, 'You see the flesh of the iguana is very delicate.'

"This was enough. Every plate was pushed aside, including that of the American who had made the proposal, and not a mouthful more of curry could any one eat. Some even fled from the table, and could not be prevailed on to return until the strange dish had been removed, and the order for the bat stew was countermanded. You see what prejudice is; they all thought the curry delicious till they knew what it was made of, and probably they would have said the same of the ragout."

The game was given to the Indians to do what they pleased with it, and then the party started on a ramble over the island. Several birds were shot on the farther shore, where there was quite a stretch of sand, and Doctor Bronson managed to bring down another eagle. Then they went back to the landing-place and breakfasted, and after breakfast it was proposed to visit the hot baths that have been previously mentioned. Of course the proposal was accepted, and Socolme with its numerous crocodiles was left to itself.

The breeze was favorable, and in due time the hot baths were reached. Not far from the baths was an Indian village, and our friends paid it a visit; while they were strolling about the place Frank made a discovery, and quickly called the attention of the Doctor and Fred.

THE GIRL WITH THE LONG HAIR.

A native girl was sitting in a hammock, with one foot hanging over the side; she eyed the strangers with some curiosity, but did not show half as much as they did in looking at her. The particular object of their attention was her hair, which hung to the ground on each side of the hammock, and would doubtless have reached to her feet if she had stood erect. The hair was jet black, and apparently fine; though of this latter condition the youths could not speak positively.

The Doctor told the boys that the Indians of the Philippines were famous for fine heads of hair, and they are naturally proud of them. He said there was a story, of very doubtful veracity, that there is a tribe of Indians in one of the islands of the group that always choose their queen by the length of her hair. When a queen dies every woman in the tribe falls to measuring her hair; and the one with the longest measurement, even though it be only a hair-breadth greater than that of any other, is proclaimed queen.

"Perhaps, then," said one of the boys, "this girl here is endeavoring to qualify herself to be queen one of these days, and wear the royal crown. It is not likely that any one else can boast of longer hair than she has."

When their curiosity was satisfied they moved on, and a short distance farther came to where a woman was weaving cloth. It was the most primitive loom the boys had ever seen, and they stopped for several minutes to look at it. The Doctor told them that the material which she was weaving was abaca, or vegetable silk; and, while they were examining the loom, he explained how the fibre was grown and prepared.

"The abaca," he said, "is grown on the mountain slopes, and thrives best in a volcanic soil. It belongs to the banana family, and produces an abundance of seed; but the seed is not used for planting, owing to the long time required for it to grow up to be useful. The plants are propagated from cuttings taken from the base of the old trunk and set in the earth, where they soon take root and begin to grow. For the first two years much attention is needed to keep down the weeds which threaten to choke the plants; but by the third year the plant puts out its own broad leaves, and is able to take care of itself with an occasional slight weeding.

"The vegetable silk is largely exported to Europe and America under the name of Manilla hemp; but it is only the coarser quality that goes to market. The finer kinds are woven by the natives, as you now see, and some of the cloth that they produce is as delicate as cambric or muslin. It is surprising what these people are able to accomplish with their rude implements and machinery.

"No less than twelve varieties of abaca are cultivated; and it has been found that while it grows luxuriantly in some localities, it will not live at all in others. It takes from three to four years for the plant to produce fibre of a proper quality; at first only one stalk is cut from each bush, but later on the new branches grow so fast that they can be cut every eight or ten weeks. A good plantation will yield a ton and a half to the acre, and sometimes as high as two tons have been gathered.

"Now, let us look at the loom where the weaving is going on. Perhaps Frank had better take down a description of it."

A PRIMITIVE LOOM IN THE PHILIPPINE ISLANDS.

Frank brought out his note-book and wrote as follows, partly from his own observation, and partly from the dictation of Doctor Bronson and Fred:

"The upper end consists of a piece of bamboo fastened between two posts, and the end of the web is tied to it. The weaver sits on the ground, and holds the lower end of the web by means of a wooden bow that passes across her back; she places her feet against a couple of pegs set in the ground, and by leaning backward draws the web out straight. The shuttle consists of a netting-needle a little longer than the width of the web, and, after the thread has been passed through the web, it is driven to its place with a wooden comb. A lath of hard wood serves as a trestle, and is turned on its edge after every stroke.

"With this simple apparatus many thousand yards of cloth are woven in the Philippine Islands every year; it is the cloth almost universally worn by the natives, and it is wonderful to what a degree of fineness it is brought when we remember the rudeness of the loom."

THE BANANA.

When they had satisfied their curiosity concerning the weaving process they continued their walk, and soon found themselves outside the village, and in the midst of a banana-field. It was Fred's turn now to write something, and accordingly he set down a brief description of the banana plant as he saw it in the Philippine Islands:

"The trunk of the banana plant is formed of leaves placed one above another, and cannot properly be called a tree, as it does not contain any woody fibre. It rises from eight to twelve feet high, and spreads out near the top into leaves five or six feet long. The flower rises from the middle of these leaves, and also the spike that holds the fruit; the latter is called the 'regime,' and sometimes has a hundred or more bananas clinging to it.

"Before the fruit is ripe the spike is cut, and soon becomes fit for use. The part of the plant which is in the earth is a sort of large root, and from it there will be successively thirty or more shoots, each one containing its bunch of fruit. As the shoots are of different ages, a single plant contains fruit in all conditions of growth, some ripening while other bunches are just beginning to form. Consequently, every two or three weeks throughout the year a bunch may be cut, and it does not require a very large field to support a man. A good many people eat little else than rice and bananas, and if a man is very poor, he can get along with wild bananas that he gathers in the forest, though he is liable to find it monotonous living."

[CHAPTER IX.]

AN EXCURSION AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.—RETURN TO MANILLA.—AN EARTHQUAKE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

Our friends were back from the hot springs in good time in the afternoon, and the next day they proceeded with their own boat to make farther excursions in Luzon. We will let Frank and Fred tell the story, which they did in a letter that left Manilla by the next mail.

After describing the experiences already recorded, the letter ran as follows:

"When we left Jala-jala we went farther up the lake and over to the other side, so as to make a journey in the mountains, and among the native inhabitants. Mr. Segovia said that the farther we went into the interior the wilder and more primitive would we find the people, but that their manners and customs were generally much alike. The Spanish officials are scattered all over the country, and every town and village has its alcalde or mayor, who is elected by the people, but must be approved by the governor. The larger towns and villages have Spanish alcaldes, but in the smaller places the officials are native, and sometimes very ignorant. An alcalde, whether Spanish or native, considers himself a very important personage, and when dressed in his best clothes and out for a walk his appearance is quite comical.

AN ALCALDE AND HIS CONSTABLE.

"At the first village where we landed, on the other side of the lake, the alcalde and his constable came to meet us, as they had heard the day before that we were coming, through a message sent by our guide. The alcalde was a short, stout man, and carried a gold-headed cane, which was his staff of office; he wore his shirt outside his trousers, after the custom of the country, and he had a dress-coat over it, evidently made for him years ago when he was thinner. He wore a bell-crowned hat, tilted on one side, like some of the men you see on Broadway, and he had wooden shoes on his stockingless feet. Behind him came the constable, who was a great contrast to his master in shape and form; he was thin as a fishing-rod, and carried his hat in his hand, while his feet were quite bare. One of us made a rough sketch of the pair while they were talking with Mr. Segovia and the Doctor.

"We are told that the Spanish alcaldes generally get rich in a few years, if they happen to be in good districts; but there are some that go away as poor as they came. The governor rewards his friends by securing their election to good places where they may make money. This may seem very strange to you at home, but you must remember that we are in Luzon, on the other side of the world from America; of course nothing like it was ever heard of in the United States.

"We engaged saddle-horses for an excursion among the mountains, and some porters to carry our baggage; the latter started off in advance, and we were to overtake them at a village where we would pass the night. There was no trouble in getting the horses, as their owners were quite willing to hire them out; but the engagement of the porters was not so easy. The people are not fond of hard work, and you may be sure it is no joke to carry ever so small a parcel in this hot climate. The mayor arranged it for us and selected the men, and he also fixed the price for us to pay. When they were assigned to the work, each man picked up the lightest thing he could find—one an umbrella, and another a field-glass that didn't weigh a pound, while a third seized a little dressing-case belonging to Mr. Segovia. They were about to move off with these loads when the alcalde called them back, and made them distribute the baggage evenly. When it was properly arranged, they had about twenty-five pounds apiece, which was not at all too much.

AN AVENUE OF PALM-TREES.

"At first the road was through a level country, and among fields of rice, tobacco, and other things that grow on the lowlands. We saw great numbers of palm-trees, and at one place there was quite a long avenue of them which somebody had set out when they were small, and allowed them to grow. It is difficult to say how many varieties of these trees we saw in the day's journey, but there must have been a dozen at least. The most useful of them was the sugar-palm; its name indicates its character, as it is cultivated for the sugar it produces, very much as the maple is cultivated in some parts of the United States and Canada.

"Perhaps you would like to know how they make sugar from a palm-tree. Well, this is the way they do it:

"The tree is tapped by cutting a deep notch in it seven or eight feet from the top, and attaching a section of bamboo to serve as a bucket to catch the sap or juice. As fast as the bamboos fill up they must be changed, and a good tree will yield eight or ten quarts daily for about six weeks. The juice is then boiled down, just as the juice of the sugar-cane or maple-tree is boiled, and is finally granulated into a coarse brown sugar.

"The juice of another variety of the tree is used for making palm-brandy, and it is said that thirty-six quarts of the juice will make six quarts of spirit. The buds of the tree are cut before they have time to blossom, and the sap that runs from them is caught in bamboos, just as in the case of the other kind of tree. The juice is then fermented into wine, which is afterward distilled into brandy. The government used to have the monopoly of the business, and though private individuals could make all they wished, they were obliged to sell to the government at a fixed price. The contractors made large profits on the business, and you may be sure the government did not lose anything. But so much of the proceeds of the business were consumed in the expense of gathering, that the government a few years ago gave up the monopoly, and allowed the manufacturers to pay taxes on what they sold, just as the manufacturers of spirits do in other countries.

"As we went back from the lake the country became more and more hilly, and when we stopped at night we were close to the mountains. The air seemed cooler, because we had been constantly ascending, but we were surrounded with tropical trees quite as much as in the lower country. Just as we came into the village where we were to spend the night, our attention was called to a native clock, and we stopped to have a look at it.

A VILLAGE CLOCK.

"You never saw such a clock in America, or rather such a bell, for it was really a bell for sounding the hours, and not a timepiece.

"A log that had been hollowed out was suspended under a tree by one end, through which a lot of ropes were passed. This was the bell, and it was struck with a smaller log suspended near it; a watchman came every hour from the house of the priest, where there was a real clock that showed the time. Of course such a rude apparatus as this could not be exact, as the watchman is not very careful. Sometimes he makes the hours only fifteen minutes long, and when he has struck all of them, he goes home and has a comfortable rest. In this way he can make it noon before it is nine o'clock in the morning; in the middle of the day there is nothing to do, and he will stay away three or four hours without coming near the timepiece at all.

"Some children coming from school stopped to look at us while we were looking at the clock, and this made us ask about the schools among the natives. We were told that there were schools in all the villages; the school-master is paid by the government, and generally receives about two dollars a month, without board or lodging. If the village is a large one, he has three dollars and a half a month, and must pay for an assistant out of his own pocket; the assistant is usually a woman, who teaches the younger children, and her wages are one dollar a month, with a little present at the end of the year. The schools are under the supervision of the priests of the districts, and about half the children do not go to school at all. They teach reading and writing, and a little arithmetic; the Indians learn arithmetic very easily, and each scholar has a pile of shells before him, which he counts over and over again when he is learning the numerals. With the same shells he studies addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, by separating them into little heaps, and it is said to be very amusing to see the scholars at their tasks. They learn to write on a table covered with sand, and as fast as they have written an exercise, the sand is smoothed over for another. This odd sort of copy-book cannot be carried home at night; and, in fact, they don't have more than two or three books altogether. The reading-book is the "Christian Doctrine," so that the scholars get their religious education along with anything else they are learning. They remember their religion longer than they do their arithmetic, as they soon forget all else that they have learned, unless they go into employments requiring a knowledge of reading and writing.

A VOLCANO IN REPOSE.

"The next morning we went farther up into the interior, and came in sight of a mountain that looked like a great pile of ashes, and had a little wreath of smoke issuing from near the top. Our guide told us it was a volcano that had an eruption a few years before, but was now very quiet; what we said looked like ashes was the cone of the mountain covered with the volcanic ashes that had been thrown up. We wanted to climb the mountain, but there wasn't time; and, besides, it came on to rain, and we had to stop. The rain kept up through the night and all the next day, and we concluded to return to Manilla as soon as we could, and get ready to move on somewhere else. Perhaps you will want to know what we would have seen if we had gone across the island, and all through it.

INDIANS OF THE INTERIOR.

"We should have been some time among the mountains, as there is a chain of them running the whole length of Luzon; many of these mountains are volcanic, and some of them do a good deal of smoking. Perhaps we should have felt the earth trembling under us suddenly, and continuing to tremble for several seconds, as it is said to do here very often; we have experienced two or three little earthquakes, and are in no hurry to make the acquaintance of a large one, though we are liable to do so at any moment.

"Perhaps we could have gone to the gold mines; but it is doubtful, as the government is not willing to let strangers see them, and they even put a good many difficulties in the way of Spaniards who want to go there. It is certain there is a considerable area of country in Luzon containing gold, and lumps have been found worth two or three hundred dollars. Several mines have been opened, but they have not paid the men who own the stock, though it is hinted that the managers on the ground have done well. Our Spanish friend asked if this was not the case sometimes in America; but we told him we had never owned any gold mines, and consequently could not give him any precise information. He laughed, and then talked about something else, without again mentioning gold-mines.

TRAVELLING THROUGH THE FOREST IN LUZON.

"Then we might have seen mines of lead, copper, and other metals; and we should have travelled through dense forests, where not even a horse can go. If we had undertaken such a journey, we should have been escorted by natives with spears and shields, as they have very little knowledge of fire-arms. The Spaniards are unwilling to let them have any weapons with which they could fight; and, as they have no noxious animals to contend with, there is no occasion for them to be armed. There are no tigers, lions, or similar beasts of prey in the Philippines; the wild animals have already been mentioned, and include the boar and buffalo, which are not dangerous as long as you let them alone.

"Well, we'll give one jump right back to Manilla, and get ready to leave. Here we are, safe and sound, though somewhat tired from being cramped up in a boat, and sore from riding on horseback and walking over rough ground. We have seen a great many new things, and had experiences that were new to us, and we have—"

Here the writing of the letter was interrupted by a violent shaking of the table at which the boys were seated; Frank was thrown from his chair, and Fred saved himself from going over by grasping the table with both hands, and resting his weight upon it. The Doctor was lying on a lounge a few feet away, and engaged in the perusal of a parcel of papers just received from New York; his reading was instantly suspended, and he came to his feet at the very moment Frank fell to the floor.

"An earthquake! an earthquake!" said Frank.

"An earthquake, certainly," answered Fred; "there's no mistaking it."

STREET SCENE DURING AN EARTHQUAKE.

The Doctor said not a word, but seized his hat and started for the street, followed by both the boys. By the time they reached there the streets were crowded with people in the greatest state of alarm; many were on their knees in prayer, and in a few moments a priest appeared carrying a crucifix, to which many eyes were turned. Tiles were falling from the roofs, walls were crashing into heaps of ruins, seams opened in the earth, men and women were shouting and screaming in terror, and what had been only a few minutes before a peaceful and sleepy city, was now a scene of wild excitement and desolation.

Our friends sought the middle of the street and there stopped, the Doctor assuring the boys that they ought to be as far as possible from the falling walls and tiles. "It often happens," said he, "that an earthquake shock is followed by another a few minutes later, and sometimes the second is more severe than the first. We'll wait here awhile, and then be guided by the movements of the inhabitants; if they go back to their houses we can return to the hotel."

The shock was not renewed, and after a while the alarm began to subside, but very slowly; word came that the cathedral had been thrown down, but luckily no one had been injured, as it was not the hour of service, and the custodians of the place were outside the doors at the moment of the shock. Several of the government buildings were destroyed, and it was thought many people had been crushed to death by the falling walls. It was impossible at that time to estimate the damage, but it was known to be very great.

The Doctor suggested that they would walk to the cathedral and see the extent of the ruin, and so the trio proceeded there. Every few steps they met dozens of people rushing wildly about in spite of the efforts of others to calm them. As they neared the cathedral the crowd became more and more dense, but happily less excited; it was a matter of some difficulty to get near the ruins, but by patience and perseverance Doctor Bronson and the youths worked their way to the front of the assemblage, and close up to the heap of brick and stone.

A part of the front had fallen, and with it one of the sides; but the rest of the walls remained standing, though there were great seams here and there that showed the work was seriously weakened, and would need to be torn down if it did not fall. The roof was crushed, owing to the loss of support on one side, and the rafters and the covering boards lay in a confused mass on the floor.

It began to grow dark, as the earthquake occurred a little before sunset, and our friends deemed it best to return to the hotel. They reached it in safety, and found it had not suffered greatly by the shaking it had received; like many of the houses of Manilla it was only one story in height, and the roof was lightly constructed, partly because the climate did not require a heavy one, and partly with a view to avoiding injury in the frequent disturbances to which Luzon is subject. The walls were cracked in a few places, and some of the tiles had been dislodged; but the proprietor thought that for twenty dollars he could repair all the damages.

Very naturally the conversation during the evening was devoted to earthquakes, and the boys accumulated a considerable stock of information on the subject. Fred turned to Mr. Jagor's book on the Philippines, and found that a great many earthquakes had been recorded in Manilla, the most fatal occurring in the years 1601, 1610, 1645, 1658, 1675, 1796, 1824, 1852, and 1863.[2] On the third of June, 1863, at thirty-one minutes past seven in the evening, after a day of tremendous heat, and while all Manilla was busy with preparations for a religious festival, the ground suddenly rocked to and fro with great violence; the firmest buildings reeled visibly, walls crumbled, and beams snapped in two. The shock lasted half a minute; but this little interval of time was enough to change the whole city into a mass of ruins, and to bury alive hundreds of its inhabitants. The cathedral, the barracks, the governor's residence, and all the public buildings were entirely destroyed; 400 persons were killed, 2000 were wounded, and the loss in money was estimated at $8,000,000. Forty-six public and 570 private buildings were thrown down, and all the houses that remained standing were more or less injured.

Frank asked the Doctor what was the cause of an earthquake, and whether the movements of the ground were always the same.

"The cause is difficult to get at," Doctor Bronson answered, "although the wisest men in all ages have studied the phenomenon, and endeavored to make a satisfactory theory for it. The ancient philosophers supposed that the winds became imprisoned in the earth, and, in their struggles to escape, gave rise to the upheaval of the land and the general convulsions. In the last century a French scientist contended that large quantities of bituminous and sulphurous matter became suddenly inflamed, and broke forth in violent fermentations. The still more modern theory is that the surface of the earth is only a thin crust over a mass of melted matter; that we live on the outside of a ball of liquid fire, which is liable to explode at any time, and put an end to us and all around. It is argued that the volcanoes now in activity are the outlets for this internal fire, and the occasional eruptions and earthquakes are the result of the fire seeking vent, in consequence of the clogging of the subterranean passages."

Frank thought the theory was not very comforting, and on the whole he preferred the older one. Fred agreed with him, and then the Doctor continued:

"The movements of the ground are not always the same in earthquakes; sometimes there will be only a single shock, or more frequently two about twenty seconds or even a minute apart, and again there will be a succession of shocks lasting for hours, or even days, at irregular intervals. The latter is oftener the case in South America than in other parts of the world; there the ground keeps up a rocking more or less continual for hours, and the later shocks are generally more violent than the earlier ones. Usually, however, the earthquake comes without warning, and is over in less than a minute, but in that space of time the destruction may be terrible.

DESTRUCTION OF MESSINA IN 1783.

"Sometimes the earthquake comes in the form of a blow of the surface of the earth from beneath, and in this shape it is most fatal and destructive. The earth seems to rise into the air as though there was a great explosion beneath it; buildings are forced upward and fall in fragments, and whole villages and towns are tossed against the hills and mountains in the vicinity, while men and animals are conveyed hundreds of yards away, either with or without the land on which they are standing. The great earthquake of 1783 in Southern Italy and Sicily, that destroyed Messina and other cities, was of this character. A peasant was carried from one part of a valley to another, together with the field where he was at work; and at another place people were hurled against the top and sides of a hill. Messina seemed to be lifted up in an instant of time, and then fell back again, burying thousands of people beneath the crumbling stones. There was no warning in any form; but the movement of the ground was accompanied by a roaring sound, which seemed to be far down in the earth. Ships were dashed against the shore, or overwhelmed with the huge waves that accompanied the earthquake, and the ground opened in many places in great cracks, that soon closed up again and swallowed those who happened to be caught in them.

ITALIAN PEASANTS INGULFED BY CREVASSES.

"To show how complete was the destruction by that earthquake, we will consider the effects on the town of Terra Nova. It stood on an elevated plateau that had deep gorges on three sides of it. The shock of the earthquake shook the plateau to pieces, and it rolled down into the gorges, carrying houses and inhabitants with it. Men, women, and children were swallowed up, and so complete was the devastation, that nothing remained to show where the town had been. The ground continued to tremble at intervals for months after this great earthquake, but there were no shocks as severe as the first."

"Haven't I read somewhere," said one of the boys, "that the severest earthquakes are near the sea?"

"Quite possibly you have read it," the Doctor answered, "for such is the case. There seems to be some kind of relationship between the sea and volcanoes and earthquakes; the greatest and most active volcanoes are not far removed from the sea or ocean, and some are actually in it. Vesuvius and Etna rise from the edge of the Mediterranean, while nearly on a line between them we find Stromboli, which has been in active eruption for two thousand years. It is called the light-house of the Mediterranean, and is very useful to mariners, as it gives a flash of light at regular intervals of a few minutes, and can be seen at night from a great distance. It is directly in the track of steamers between Naples and Messina, and makes a most excellent landmark.

A SUBMARINE ERUPTION.

"There are volcanoes that have their craters under water—or rather there are submarine eruptions that would be in the form of volcanoes if they were on land. I once saw one of these eruptions while going through the eastern part of the Mediterranean, near the Santorin Islands. There was a column of dense smoke rising from the water, and it could be seen for miles; above it, and not very far up, was a cloud formed from this smoke, and it made a very noticeable contrast to the clouds on the horizon, which were tinged by the light of the setting sun. The air was filled with a smell of sulphur, and all around there were bubbles rising from the water as though the entire sea was impregnated with gas. We sailed quite near the place where the smoke was rising, and had an excellent view of it. When the eruption began there were thousands on thousands of fish killed by the sulphur, and for some days the people from the islands used to go out and get them by the boat-load.

"An effect of an earthquake occurring near the sea," Doctor Bronson continued, "is the tidal wave that causes a great part of the destruction."

Fred asked what was the difference between a tidal wave and an ordinary one.

"The tide, as you know," the Doctor replied, "is the rising and falling of the waters of the ocean, and the seas and bays that extend from it. The ordinary wave is caused by the action of the wind blowing upon the flat surface of the water, while the tidal wave is not. In most instances where an earthquake occurs near the sea, there is a rush of water in a wave more or less great—first upon the land, and then away from it.

"In 1868 there was an earthquake on the west coast of South America, which furnishes an excellent example of what I have mentioned. At first the ground shook with a frightful noise; the whole chain of the mountains in the distance trembled like reeds in the wind, and it was apparent to every one that a frightful disturbance was at hand. The United States steamer Wateree was at anchor in the harbor of Arica, Peru, and one of her officers has since told me of the earthquake. He says the sea was perfectly calm at the time, and from the decks of the ship they could see the town shaking to pieces, and the hills that formed the harbor crumbling and throwing down great masses of rock.

"Several shocks followed, with little intervals, until two-thirds of Arica lay in ruins. The ships sent their boats ashore with surgeons to assist the wounded, but they had hardly landed before the water began to recede as though the tide was running out. It reached the point of low tide, and then began to rise again; and it kept on and on till it had reached a point thirty-four feet above high-water mark; it overflowed the town, poured through the streets, and flooded many of the houses. Then it flowed back again as fast as it had risen, and carried with it the custom-house, the residence of the English consul, and other buildings. Hundreds of the people had rushed to the mole or landing, and as the water swept out through the harbor they were carried with it, and many of them were drowned.

UNITED STATES WAR-STEAMER "WATEREE," STRANDED AT ARICA IN 1868.

"It was an awful spectacle, enough to terrify the bravest man that ever lived. Again the water rose to the same height as before, and again it fell, carrying with it houses, merchandise, and even a locomotive and some cars that were standing on the railway track. Altogether there were eleven of these waves, and then there was another shock of an earthquake, lasting about eight minutes, accompanied by repeated rolls of thunder and loud rumblings. This was followed by a rush of water from the ocean; it came on in a great wall breasted with foam, and poured over the land like an avalanche. Nothing could stand against it; the anchor-chains of the ships were snapped like threads, and the Wateree and three or four other ships in port were swept inland and stranded. The sea retired and left her high and dry about four hundred yards inland, in a position where it was impossible to get her afloat again; the same was the case with an English vessel and a Peruvian gun-boat; but the American store-ship Fredonia was less fortunate. She was knocked to pieces on the rocks, and all on board were lost; her captain and four of the crew were ashore at the time, and were saved."

Frank asked if there had ever been any earthquakes in the United States, and if so, whether they amounted to much.

"The United States," the Doctor replied, "can hardly be included among the lands of the earthquake, though we are not by any means exempt from slight shocks. San Francisco has about a dozen disturbances in a year, but they rarely amount to much. Now and then the walls of some of the houses are cracked, and a few are thrown down; the people are more or less frightened, and many threaten to move away in consequence, but very few do so. East of the Rocky Mountains there have been a few shocks, the most violent being in a period of about fifteen months from December 16th, 1811. Philadelphia, Baltimore, Boston, New York, Washington, and other cities as far south as Savannah, were shaken on several occasions, and the earthquakes extended as far west as the Mississippi. New Madrid, in Missouri, seemed to be the centre of the disturbance. Fissures six or eight feet across were opened in the ground, and the land around New Madrid sunk about twelve feet below its former level. It is said that in some places the channel of the great river was changed, and lakes were formed where none had been before. But no lives were lost, and no great damage resulted from these earthquakes; and since that time we have had only an occasional slight trembling in some of the eastern States."

The clock indicated the hour of bedtime, and the talk about earthquakes and their mysteries came to an abrupt end.

[CHAPTER X.]

FROM MANILLA TO SINGAPORE, AND UP THE STRAITS OF MALACCA.—A DAY AT PULO PENANG.

The next day was passed in closing up letters for the mail, viewing the destruction caused by the earthquake, and making preparations for leaving Manilla. The Doctor found, on visiting his banker's, that there was a steamer ready to start for Singapore on the following morning, and that she had accommodations for a few passengers. As she would suit their purposes exactly, he engaged places for the party, and in due time they were at sea with the prow of their vessel directed toward the Straits of Malacca.

ON THE WAY TO SINGAPORE.

The anchor was dropped in the harbor of Singapore, and the steamer was quickly surrounded with the same swarm of boatmen that greeted our friends at the time of their first arrival. Some of the sharp-eyed fellows recognized Doctor Bronson and the youths, and claimed them as old acquaintances; the result was that only a few minutes were required for the negotiations that had taken so long on their first visit, and before the anchor had been down half an hour the trio were at the hotel with their baggage, and safely quartered in their rooms.[3]

"We are just in time," said the Doctor, "to catch the steamer that leaves here every week for Penang, Rangoon, and Calcutta. We will go in her as far as Rangoon, and have a peep at Burmah, and when we have done with that strange country we can go somewhere else."

The boys were delighted with the idea of going to Burmah, and declared themselves ready to leave on the instant; but they moderated their enthusiasm on learning that the steamer would not start till noon of the next day. A garri was called, and our friends drove to the banker's and the post-office, and their journey was rewarded with a fine parcel of letters and papers from home. They also called at the United States Consulate, and found that two or three letters had been addressed to them in care of the consul, and were safely kept by that gentleman, pending their return.

The news from home was entirely satisfactory. The families of Frank and Fred were greatly interested in the letters which the youths had sent describing their journey, and Miss Effie informed them that some of the letters had been given to the editor of their favorite newspaper, and so had found their way into print. "And the editor says," she added, "that they are good enough to make a book of, and when you get home you shall have one printed."

"What! we make a book!" exclaimed Fred, as Frank read the concluding sentence of Miss Effie's letter; "we could never do it in the world!"

"Why not?" Frank inquired. Evidently he thought the thing possible, perhaps for the reason that his sweetheart so regarded it.

"Because," Fred answered, "we don't write as the books do, or, at any rate, the most of them. We don't trouble ourselves about 'fine writing,' whatever that is, but go straight on and tell what we see and hear, the same as though we were sitting around the table at home and talking to our friends."

"Perhaps, after all," responded his cousin, "a book written in just that way wouldn't be so very bad. It's the kind of book I would prefer in reading about a country; and the fact that the editor prints our letters, shows that he's of my opinion. However, let's not trouble ourselves about the prospects of being book-writers, but go on and make our letters just as we've been making them."

This was agreed to without further discussion, and the rest of the afternoon and the evening were devoted to reading and rereading letters and papers, and answering the most important of the missives.

BAY ON THE COAST OF SUMATRA.

At noon the next day they were steaming out of the harbor of Singapore, and entering the Straits of Malacca. On their right they had the Malay Peninsula stretching away as far as the eye could reach, while on their left were the densely-wooded shores of Sumatra. The air was warm, but its severity was tempered by a breeze that blew steadily in their faces as they steamed up the Straits, and seemed to be laden with the odor of spices and other tropical products. At least so thought Frank, but the Doctor assured him that the perfume was principally imaginary, as they were not yet where spices grow in profusion.

"The principal products of the region we are now passing," he explained, "are rice, sugar, pepper, and gambier, and none of those articles are famous for their odors, with the possible exception of pepper."

One of the boys asked what gambier was.

"Gambier," Doctor Bronson answered, "is a vegetable product that is largely used in dyeing and tanning, and is sometimes called Japan earth, for the reason that when it was first introduced it was supposed to be a species of earth, and to come from Japan. The tree or bush that produces it is of the same family as the Peruvian bark trees, and is a native of the East Indian Archipelago. The leaves and small shrubs are boiled in water, and a thick decoction is formed, which is finally poured into moulds and allowed to harden in the sun. A great quantity of gambier is produced in the Malay Peninsula, and if we went on shore we could visit the plantations where it is cultivated. They would remind us of the tea-plantations we saw in Java, as the bush is six or eight feet high, and looks not unlike the largest tea-shrubs."

COAST SCENE IN THE STRAITS OF MALACCA.

Occasionally the steamer came quite near to the shore, and gave them charming glimpses of the scenery of the Malayan Peninsula. Everywhere there was an abundant vegetation, and the principal trees in the landscape were palms and their kindred. Villages were scattered here and there, and the captain of the steamer pointed out several establishments that he said were the residences of local chiefs, acting under the authority of the British Government. Several provinces along this part of the peninsula are under British control, though nominally ruled by their own sultans; as long as the sultan remains friendly to the English he is allowed to do pretty much as he pleases, but when he defies their authority, they speedily chastise him into obedience. Step by step the English have increased their power in this part of the world, and the movements on the political chess-board indicate that they will not be satisfied until they have secured all the territory between their Indian possessions and the frontier of China.

It is three hundred and ninety miles from Singapore to Penang, and as the steamer was not of the highest speed, she did not reach there until the morning of the second day from the former port. In fact, the departure from Singapore had been timed so that they should arrive early in the morning, and have the day before them. Frank and Fred were on deck as the vessel swung into the harbor and came to anchor, and their eyes were busily engaged in contemplating the novel sights of the place. Doctor Bronson joined them a little later, and arranged with some boatmen to take them on shore as soon as breakfast was over. The boatmen were similar to those that surrounded the ship on their arrival at Singapore when they came from Siam—Klings, Chinese, Malays, and Arabs, with a sprinkling of negroes from the coast of Africa.

Penang is an island containing about a hundred square miles in all, and is separated from the main-land of the Malay peninsula by a strait from two to seven miles in width; it is sometimes called Prince of Wales Island, and by the natives is known as Pulo Penang, "pulo" being the Malay word for island. It is an important English possession, and was under the British flag long before Singapore. The history of its transfer to the English is somewhat romantic, and is told as follows:

It formerly belonged to the King or Sultan of Quedah, in Malacca, and was given by him to his daughter on the occasion of her marriage with Captain Light in 1785. Light was master of an English ship trading in the Straits, and a few years after his marriage he sold the island to the East India Company, on condition of being appointed governor. Afterward he negotiated with his father-in-law to give the English authority over the whole province of Quedah on payment of an annual subsidy; the sultan consented, and since that time the English have had complete possession.

We will let the boys tell the story of their sight-seeing in Penang during the day the ship remained there:

"We had no trouble in going ashore, as the boatmen were in competition with each other, and did not demand as high prices as at Singapore; for a dollar apiece we were brought on shore and taken back to the ship again at the end of the day, and the captain says we might have done better than that if we had bargained a little longer. The harbor is at the northern end of the strait that separates Penang from the main-land, and a very nice harbor it is. The capital is called Georgetown, and we are told that it has about 100,000 inhabitants; such a mixture you never saw in America, and we don't believe there are a dozen places in the world with such an odd population. The English are the masters, but there are not more than a thousand of them, not counting the garrison of soldiers; and there are a few Germans, French, Italians, Greeks, and other Europeans. The rest are Malays, Chinese, Parsees, Klings, Bengalees, Arabs, and descendants of the early Portuguese settlers, together with a few other sorts and kinds 'too numerous to mention.'

"We went through the town, but there was nothing very curious, after what we have seen and described to you in Singapore, and so we didn't take a long time about it. Each of us bought a Penang lawyer to take along. What do you suppose a Penang lawyer is?

"It is a cane, or walking-stick, with a straight stem; it has a root shaped like an egg, and forming a capital thing for the hand to grasp when the cane is finished and polished. These canes are called lawyers, because they are employed in settling disputes, and they certainly appear very useful for that purpose. One of them has been known to finish a discussion in a few seconds where an ordinary attorney would have taken an hour or two, and then would have been as far from the end of it as ever. The shillalah of the Irishman is something like it, but though it may be quite as effective, it is not half as handsome.

PALM-TREES IN PULO PENANG.

"Back of Georgetown the hills rise up nearly if not quite two thousand feet, and we were told that from the summit we could have a magnificent view. So we climbed up there, or rather we took a carriage to the foot of the hills, and then hired coolies with chairs to carry us the rest of the way. You cannot imagine a prettier excursion. The tropical trees, with their splendid foliage, shade the roads and paths, and sometimes you can go a mile or more without a ray of the sun striking you; at every turn there is a charming view of some kind or other, and you are constantly in sight of delightful summer-houses, where the merchants and professional residents of Penang have their homes. Higher and higher you go, and find the air becoming cooler as you ascend; when you are at the summit, you find the temperature ten or twenty degrees less than in Georgetown, and are glad that you brought along your light overcoat.

"As we stand at the top we look away to the main-land, and our guide says that in clear weather we can see ninety miles. The harbor with its shipping is in full view, and we have the whole panorama of the island and a long stretch of the Malay peninsula. We seem to be at the top of a great mound of trees, as the whole of the hills are thickly wooded. Farther down there are cleared spaces, especially in the valleys and plains, and we can see fields of rice, sugar-cane, and other products of the warm regions of the earth. On the upper parts of the hills the air is cool enough for the cultivation of European vegetables and flowers that will not grow in the vicinity of Georgetown.

"Where the forest is neglected, even for a few months, it soon becomes so overgrown with jungle that it is not easy to get through it; Doctor Bronson says it is a constant fight with nature to keep down the verdure, and if Penang were left to itself for a single year it would be all overgrown, as when Captain Light came here nearly a hundred years ago. They tell a funny story of how Captain Light cleared away the jungle. He used to load cannon with silver dollars, and then fire them into the grass and bushes; then the Malays went to work to find the dollars, and, of course, they had to clear the ground before they could do so.

A SUBURBAN COTTAGE.

"Where we left our carriage there was a pretty water-fall, and we saw several little cascades on our journey. They are fed by water from the clouds that sweep over Penang, especially during the time of the south-west monsoon, and every owner of a bungalow on the mountain-side tries to have a stream of water going through his place, and if he can get a cascade in it, so much the better. Some of the residents have bathing-houses at the foot of their cascades, and they go there to get cool; a more delightful bath-house than one we saw it would be difficult to imagine. It had a floor of the solid rock of the island, and the water fell into a natural basin about four feet deep, and then ran off through a channel it had worn for itself in hundreds of years of patient work.

A PENANG BUTTERFLY.

"Penang is full of insect life; in some places where we went there was such a buzzing of beetles and other humming things that our voices were drowned when we were twenty yards apart. It reminded us of the buzzing of machinery in a cotton factory, and there was more of it in the early part of the day than later on. There is one beetle they call 'the trumpeter,' that does not rest from making a noise from morning till night unless he is disturbed; when you go near a tree where he is he stops, and does not start again till you go away. There are lots and lots of butterflies, and they are of all sizes and colors; there is one called the 'Saturnia-atlas' that measures ten or twelve inches across the wings, but he is not very abundant, and the only one we saw was in a glass case in the office of a merchant we called on. We saw some beautiful humming-birds, and were told that there are several varieties of these tiny things in Penang. There was a bright metallic lustre all over them, and when we looked at them in a certain light they glistened like a piece of burnished steel.

HUMMING-BIRDS.

"How many kinds of trees there are in Penang it is difficult to say, but there are great numbers of them. Some of them are so heavy that they will sink in water; the Chinese and Malays take these woods to make anchors for their boats and junks, and they use the rattans and bamboos for cordage if they cannot afford twisted ropes. Many of the plants live entirely on air, and we saw trees a foot in diameter growing on a rock where there wasn't a particle of soil. The moist air is what they thrive on, and they seem as well satisfied on a rock as in the richest soil.

"We asked how many fruits there were in Penang, and learned that they amounted to a hundred, and perhaps more. They have that delicious fruit, the mangosteen, that we told you about when in Java; and then they have the pineapple, custard-apple, pomegranate, mango, banana, and we don't know what else. We tried to eat the durian again, but couldn't get through it; and, as we are not to be very long in the land of this fruit, we don't think it worth our while to learn.

"At night the air is full of fire-flies, and sometimes they are so brilliant that they resemble a torch-light procession just breaking up. Then the natives kindle fires under the trees to cook their meals; and, as you ride or walk along the roads, the scene is a curious one, as the figures of these dark-skinned people are brought into strong relief by the light.

A TRAVELLING BLACKSMITH.

"You see so many Chinese in Penang that you can easily believe you are in Shanghai or Hong-Kong. They are everywhere, and in all kinds of business, from the most important to the most humble; they are wholesale merchants of every name and kind, and they practise all the industries known to civilization. There are Chinese tailors, carpenters, shoemakers, blacksmiths, jewellers, cabinet-makers, and anything else you might name, besides a variety of trades you couldn't think of. Most of them work in shops, but there are many blacksmiths, cobblers, and others, who go from house to house, and carry their tools in baskets.

"The banks have Chinese clerks to keep the accounts and handle the money, and every European merchant in Penang has a comprador, the same as the merchants in Yokohama and Hong-Kong. You can hardly do anything in the way of buying or selling without coming in contact with a Chinese, and even if you try to avoid them you cannot. In commercial matters the Chinese have full control, and the European merchants complain that their profits are very light owing to the sharp competition of their Oriental rivals. Every year the Chinese are gaining in business, while the Europeans are diminishing; and the gentleman who told us about them says it is only a question of time, and not a long time at that, before all the trade of Penang will be in the hands of the Chinese.

"They are not only in Georgetown, but all over the island of Penang, and on the main-land. Some of them have been here for many years, and either brought wives from China, or married Malay ones; they have no intention of going back to China but will end their days in Penang. The most of these old settlers are rich, and have fine houses, with magnificent gardens filled with fruits and flowers; but there are plenty of poor settlers who cultivate the soil, and live in modest huts among their market-gardens and pepper-fields. A large part of the agriculture of the island, and of the neighboring province on the main-land, is in Chinese hands, and if all the people of the Flowery Kingdom were driven out of the Malay Peninsula and the adjacent islands, there wouldn't be much business left. Several times the Government has had trouble with them owing to their guilds and combinations; and on two or three occasions they have openly defied the laws, and refused to be bound by them. The garrisons of troops at Penang, Singapore, and other points are necessary to keep the Chinese in order, as no one can tell when they may make a serious disturbance.

"When we were at Manilla, we learned that the Chinese in the Philippine Islands were not always easy to control, and had twice broken into open insurrection. The first time was in 1603, when 23,000 Chinese were slaughtered by the Spanish troops and people; and the second was about fifty years later, when 25,000 were killed, and the rest, amounting to six or eight thousand, were banished. But others came to fill their places, and there have been no more insurrections, though quite often they narrowly escape them.

"It is fair to say, on behalf of the Chinese, that their insurrections in the Philippine Islands were brought about by excessive taxes and religious persecutions; at least we are so informed by the historians who have written on the subject. In Penang there is no danger of trouble on this account, as the inhabitants have the fullest liberty in the matter of religion, and the taxes are the same for all nationalities.

"It was late when we got back to the steamer, and, as we were pretty tired, we went straight to bed. When we rose in the morning, we were steaming out of the harbor; and so ended our visit to Penang."

[CHAPTER XI.]

SHOOTING-STARS AND THEIR CHARACTER.—A REMARKABLE VOYAGE.

The voyage from Penang to Rangoon was an agreeable one for our young friends, as the sea was not disturbed by storms, and the temperature on deck, both night and day, was delightful. In the cabins it was too warm for comfort, as the iron sides of the ship absorbed a great deal of heat, and the arrangements for ventilation were not able to carry it off. The passengers slept on deck beneath the triple awning that covered the whole stern of the ship, and the boys had a table arranged there where they wrote their journals, and the letters describing what they had seen. The evenings were devoted to conversation on whatever topics happened to come up, and before they reached Rangoon the boys had made a material addition to their already extensive stock of information.

The distance from Penang to Rangoon is 1194 miles, and the steamer took five days to make the voyage. Consequently, the boys had all the time they wished for bringing their writing up to date, and getting ready for the new sights and sensations that awaited them in Burmah.

FIRST VIEW OF THE METEOR.

On their first evening out from Penang the travellers were sitting near the stern of the steamer, and gazing out over the moonlit waters. The stars were bright in the sky, and the boys were designating the various clusters and constellations, as they had learned them at school, when suddenly there was a flash of light about half-way from the horizon to the zenith, and directly in their line of vision. Then it moved across the heavens from right to left, with a slightly downward course, and, as the youths fixed their eyes upon it, there was an appearance of an explosion, and the sky assumed its former aspect.

"A shooting-star!" Frank exclaimed.

"Or perhaps a meteor," Fred responded.

"Either way you like," said the Doctor, "as both names are used for the phenomenon. It also has the name of 'falling-star,' as the path is generally downward, or apparently so."

Frank asked what a shooting-star, meteor, or falling-star was composed of, and what was the reason of its appearance.

EXPLOSION OF THE METEOR.

"That is a question more easily asked than answered," the Doctor replied. "Scientific men in all parts of the world have devoted a great deal of time and attention to the subject, but they are not, as yet, satisfactorily informed as to the character of the meteor."

"Don't they fall on the earth sometimes?" Fred inquired. "I have read of aerolites that came from the air to the earth, and were composed of solid matter. Are not these aerolites parts of shooting-stars?"

"Circumstantial evidence favors the theory that some of the aerolites come from falling-stars; but, at the same time, no solid matter has reached the earth that can be directly traced to one. The amount of solid matter in an ordinary shooting-star is so small that it is thought to be consumed in its passage through the air, where its great velocity causes it to be heated to a very high degree; whenever anything has fallen from the sky to the earth, and been found at the time of its fall, it is always intensely hot."

"How far off was that meteor we just saw?" said Frank.

"Fifty or sixty miles, I presume," the Doctor answered. "It has been determined that shooting-stars begin to be visible at distances varying from forty to one hundred and twenty miles, and disappear at from thirty to eighty miles. During the time we saw it, it moved about ninety miles; it was in sight three or four seconds, and its velocity was, therefore, not far from thirty miles a second; a pretty fast rate of travelling."

"Ever so much faster than a cannon-ball," Fred remarked. "No wonder it gets heated so that it is consumed."

"But you didn't tell us about the aerolites, and what they are made of," Frank protested.

"Nor about the circumstantial evidence in favor of their coming from the shooting-stars," added Fred.

"Several instances may be given," Doctor Bronson replied; "but the following from Professor Loomis will be sufficient to illustrate the theory:

"On the morning of December 14th, 1807, a meteor of great brilliancy was seen moving in the atmosphere over the town of Weston, in Connecticut. Its apparent diameter was about half that of the full-moon; when it disappeared several persons heard a sound resembling the discharge of a cannon, followed by smaller reports like a fire of musketry. Soon after the explosions a man heard a sound like the falling of a heavy body, and upon examination he discovered that a stone had fallen upon a rock near his house and was dashed into fragments, which were quite hot when picked up. When put together they were found to weigh about twenty pounds.

"In another place, five miles away from the first one, somebody found a hole in the turf, and on digging down about two feet he brought up a stone weighing thirty-five pounds. Other stones were found in the neighborhood weighing respectively ten, thirteen, twenty, and thirty-six pounds, and at a spot several miles distant there were a dozen fragments, evidently broken from a mass of two hundred pounds or more, that struck a large rock with great force. The entire weight of all the pieces of the meteor found in Weston exceeded three hundred pounds, and one of the specimens, weighing thirty-six pounds, is preserved in the cabinet at Yale College."

"The proof is pretty conclusive that the fragments came from the shooting-star," one of the boys remarked. "Do they know how high it was in the sky when it blew up?"

"It was first seen near Albany," was the reply, "and it disappeared near Weston. When first seen it was about eighty miles high; its course carried it toward the earth, so that when it exploded it was only eight miles high. Probably the greater part of the meteor fell into Long Island Sound and was lost, as the direction in which it was going would take it there.

"There have been some twenty or more aerolites in the United States whose falls have been known at the time of their occurrence, besides a good many discoveries of meteoric stones. There was one in Ohio in 1860 that burst in the air one day about noon; several stones were seen to fall and were secured, the largest of them weighing one hundred and three pounds. The surface of all the stones was covered with a crust, as though they had been melted.

"Now we come to the composition of the meteoric fragments. It varies greatly, some of them containing ninety-six per cent. of iron, while others have only one per cent.; in some there will be eighteen per cent. of nickel, and in others less than one per cent. There are many aerolites that consist of silica, lime, magnesia, and kindred substances; these are called meteoric stones, to distinguish them from those where iron preponderates, the latter having the name of meteoric iron.

"Aerolites generally contain small quantities of cobalt, tin, copper, and one or two other metals, in addition to the iron. The latter, when in large proportion, is readily malleable, and can be wrought by the blacksmith with the utmost ease. You know that iron ore is one of the most abundant minerals, but metallic iron in a state of nature is exceedingly rare. The curious thing about these meteors is that the iron in them is always metallic, and not in the shape of ore.

THE SANTA ROSA AEROLITE.

"I will now tell you," he continued, "about the structure of these masses of iron that fall from the sky. Their surfaces are more or less dotted and indented, and sometimes they suggest that there were large bubbles of air on them at the time they were cooled. One that fell near Lockport, in the State of New York, is honey-combed as though cavities had been dug in it with a chisel, and another that came from Santa Rosa, in New Grenada, has a less number of dimples in it, but they are deeper. And let me say, before I forget it, that this aerolite from Santa Rosa weighs 1600 pounds, and has about one cubic foot of volume; it is consequently very dense, and is composed of nearly pure iron."

Fred asked if that was the largest meteor ever found.

MELBOURNE AEROLITE.

"Not by any means," the Doctor answered. "The largest in any collection was sent from Melbourne, Australia, to the British Museum, and weighs 8257 pounds. The same museum has one from Otumpa, South America, that weighs 1400 pounds, and was detached from a mass estimated to weigh more than fifteen tons. This is the largest mass of meteoric iron known to exist.

STRUCTURE OF THE TEXAS AEROLITE.

"Meteoric iron has a highly crystalline formation, which can be found by polishing a surface and then heating it to whiteness. When it is cooled it will be found covered with curious lines and streaks that remind you of the frost-marks on a window-pane. An aerolite found in Texas was submitted to the heating process; the streaks that were developed remained there permanently, and the same is the case with several others. Ordinary iron will not exhibit these marks, but they can sometimes be produced in iron that has been melted out of volcanic rocks."

"How does the iron get up in the atmosphere to form these aerolites?" one of the boys inquired.

"That is a conundrum I give up without trying," the Doctor replied. "Nobody has yet been able to tell us, and we must be content with the fact that it is there.

"And there is a good deal of it up in the regions beyond the clouds," he continued, "if we are to judge by the number of meteors or shooting-stars that are seen every year. It has been estimated that more than a thousand meteors fall daily through the air so near the earth that they might be seen from one place if the clouds and the sun and moon would permit; taking this as a basis, there are more than 8,000,000 of meteors visible every day from all over the earth. Once in a while we have meteoric showers, when thousands of meteors can be seen from one point in an hour's time, and frequently the fall is so rapid that they cannot be counted. But it is a curious circumstance that in these showers no meteor or its fragments have been known to strike the earth."

A good deal more was said on this subject that we have not space for recording, and from meteors the conversation wandered to the moon, and around among the stars generally, till it was bedtime. In the latter part of their talk they were joined by the captain of the ship, who told them that the natives of the Malay peninsula and the coast of Burmah have a remarkable knowledge of astronomy, so far as it relates to the navigation of their sailing craft. "To find our positions at sea," said he, "we must use elaborate instruments and take several observations, particularly in getting our longitude; but these natives will work up their longitude by observations on the stars with a simple apparatus consisting of a stick and a string. The string is twice as long as the stick, and is fastened to its ends; there are several knots on the string and notches on the stick, and by holding this rude instrument in a certain position, and observing the relations between the knots and notches with some of the more prominent stars, they will get their longitude exactly.

"It is too late now," said the captain, "or I would tell you about a most remarkable voyage that was made across the Bay of Bengal, a few years ago, by men who had no knowledge whatever of navigation. Perhaps we'll have it to-morrow night."

With this remark he left them, and, as before stated, the evening session came to an end at the hour for retiring to sleep.

According to promise the captain joined our friends the next evening, and told them of the feat performed by a small party of natives in crossing the Bay of Bengal in an open boat.[4]

RIVER-BOATS IN BURMAH.

"There were five of them," said the captain, "and they went to sleep in their boat one night, so as to take an early start up the river from Rangoon. The boat was made from a hollowed log, and was about twenty-five feet long by four wide in the centre; it had a mast with a small square sail, like what you generally see on the native boats in the East, and its sides were not more than a foot above water. This was the craft that safely carried five men a thousand miles across the open sea.

"They went to sleep, as I said, and when they waked in the morning, just at dawn, they found themselves at sea. The boat had become untied from the stake where it was fastened; the strong current of the river, with the ebb-tide, had floated them down at a rapid rate, and before they knew it they were out of sight of land.

"Not one of them had ever been at sea before; they were all from the upper country, and some of them had not even heard there was any water in the world beyond their own river. The oldest of the party was captain of the boat; he had heard something about 'the black water' that was so salt as to poison those who drank it, but beyond that he had very little information concerning it.

OUT ON THE WATERS.

"He had no idea in what direction he should steer to reach land, but remembered that it was necessary to keep a straight course to get anywhere. Whether to go east, west, north, or south, he could not say, and in fact he hardly knew the points of compass. He had no compass, or anything of the sort, and so he concluded that to steer properly he should keep the sun constantly on his left hand. It was unfortunate that he did not decide to keep the sun on the right hand, as he would then have brought up on the coast of Burmah, while the course he took was westward, across the Bay of Bengal.

"The boat was loaded with salt belonging to an English house in Rangoon, and consigned to their agency up the river. The old man ordered the salt thrown overboard to lighten the boat; then he divided the provisions, giving each man his share. The sail was spread to the light wind that was blowing, and with the sun on the left the boat moved on.

A WRECK AT SEA.

"The only provisions were a couple of bags of rice, and with care this could be made to last a month. They had very little fresh water, and the old man's ingenuity was set to work to devise means of collecting some. They had a little furnace on some earth in the middle of the boat where they did their cooking, and they had a bag or two of charcoal. Whenever they were engaged in cooking their daily allowance of rice, the padrone caused his companions to dip a couple of tin plates in the sea; when these plates were cooled as much as the sea-water could cool them, they were wiped dry and held in the steam that rose from the rice-kettle, and in this way a few drops of water could be obtained. As soon as they were heated, the water that had accumulated on the plates would be wiped off, and the dipping in the sea would be renewed. Enough water was collected in this way to prevent their dying of thirst, but not enough to save them from considerable suffering. Of course the rice contained a good deal of water which it absorbed in the process of cooking: the usual mode of preparing rice in the East is to steam it above a boiling kettle, and not to place it in the water, after the American manner. Occasionally they were surrounded by flying-fish, but they never caught any, though they tried to do so.

A FLYING-FISH.

"On and on they sailed. Day after day passed with no sign of land, and no ship to bring them assistance. Their coals were exhausted on the seventeenth day; on the next and the next they suffered terrible thirst, because they could no longer make use of their condenser, and the old chief said that if they found no relief by the twentieth day they would have to give up.

"But at ten o'clock in the night of the nineteenth day the boat slid up on a sandy beach, and the party stepped on shore. Fortune willed it that they landed on the beach in front of the French town of Pondicherry; they had seen the lights for an hour or more, but mistook them for stars.

"The boat was pulled up high and dry on the beach, which was deserted at that hour. One man was left to guard it, and the other four, with the old man leading, walked in single file through the streets of Pondicherry in search of assistance.

"At every few steps the leader called out, 'Does any one speak Burmese?' People stared at him, and some laughed, and thought him insane, but he kept on up and down the streets with his comrades, repeating his inquiry in his own language, for he knew no other—'Does any one speak Burmese?'

"For nearly an hour he continued in this way, and just as he was about to give up, and try some other means of making himself understood, some one who spoke Burmese stepped from the crowd and asked what he wanted.

"His first inquiry was whether there was an agency of the firm to whom the cargo of salt belonged. Finding there was none, he named other houses of Rangoon with no better luck, and at last asked for the British India Steam Navigation Company.

"He went at once to the Company's agency, but it was closed for the night. He was there bright and early next morning, and his first request was for a telegram to be sent to his employers at Rangoon, so that they would know he had not run away with the cargo of salt. He wanted his character vindicated first of all, and then he asked if he and his comrades could be sent to Rangoon, and allowed to pay their passage on arrival, as they had not sufficient money to pay in advance.

"Those who heard his story could hardly believe it, especially when they saw the boat in which the five men had come across the Bay of Bengal. But they were fully convinced when a despatch came from the house at Rangoon to send the men back, and draw for expenses. The firm had full faith in the honesty of the old man, as he had been a long time in their employ.

"The agent of the French Steamship Company bought their boat for a good price, to keep as a curiosity, and gave them a free passage to Madras; from Madras the British India Company gave them passage to Rangoon, where they arrived safely, and were heroes in the eyes of all their neighbors and friends."

Doctor Bronson reminded the captain that there were several instances on record of boats not over twenty feet long that had safely crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

"Yes," the captain answered, "that is quite true; but bear in mind that the boats you speak of were specially built for the voyages they undertook; they were well provisioned and watered, and were in the track of steamships, from which they could obtain fresh supplies nearly every day if they wanted them. The men who managed them were experienced sailors, and were provided with instruments by which they could work out their positions, and know where they were. In the case I speak of the boat was totally unfit for ocean navigation, the men on board had never looked on the sea, and knew nothing about it; they had no proper supply of provisions, no instruments whatever, and even if they had possessed any, they were ignorant of their use. When you consider all the circumstances, I think you will agree with me that the voyage of the five Burmese was the most remarkable you ever heard of."

LANDING ON THE BEACH.

[CHAPTER XII.]

FIRST DAY IN BURMAH.—THE GOLDEN PAGODA.

The first land they saw in approaching Burmah was, as Fred expressed it, a light-house without any land visible for it to stand on. The light-house is on a dangerous reef of rocks more than a mile long, and quite covered at high-tide, and many a ship came to grief there before the beacon was erected. As there is no sign of land at the point where the light-house is first seen, the sight is a curious one. Fred and Frank were much interested in the spectacle, and when they first saw the tall structure of stone, 150 feet in height, they could hardly believe the evidence of their eyes.

CREEK LEADING FROM THE RANGOON RIVER.

A boat headed for them, and before passing the light-house they had taken on board the pilot who was to show them the way to Rangoon. The city stands on one of the mouths of the Irrawaddy, twenty-six miles from the sea, and the boys were forcibly reminded of their visit to Saigon by the general similarity of the scenery at the mouths of the Meikong and the river they were now ascending. The branch on which Rangoon stands is known as the Rangoon River; it is nearly two miles wide at its mouth, but gradually narrows until it is only about a third of a mile across at the city itself. The banks are low and flat, and the scenery is monotonous; there are many little creeks and canals branching off from the river, and forming quite a net-work of waters navigable for small boats. Rice-fields and uncultivated swamps stretch away for long distances, and it was hardly necessary for the captain of the steamer to say that the region was an unhealthy one for foreigners.

The steamer anchored among a considerable number of foreign ships, and as a good many of the latter were receiving cargoes from lighters that lay along-side, the scene was a busy one. Boats, rowed by Chinese, Burmese, Klings, and other Oriental laborers, were speedily at the side of the new arrival, and a lively bargaining began for transportation to the shore. A Chinese boatman offered better terms than any one else, and in a short time our friends were deposited with their baggage in a little hotel facing the river, and in that part of Rangoon known as "The Strand." This is a wide street that has been well paved by the authorities, and it contains the principal foreign residences and business houses, together with the Government offices and other public buildings. The tropical foliage is so dense in many places that comparatively few of the houses can be seen at once, and it is difficult for a stranger to realize that he is in front of a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants when his ship drops anchor in Rangoon River.

Rangoon is only a century and a quarter old, having been founded in 1755 by the Burman king, who conquered the province of Pegu, and determined to have a city near the sea; it extends about three miles along the river and a mile back from it, and its streets are generally at right angles, and well paved. There is a great difference between the foreign and native quarters, as in all the open seaports of the East: the former contains well-built houses of planks, with tiled roofs, while the latter consists of bamboo huts that cost only a few dollars to build, and are liable to be blown down in a high wind. Most of the European houses are on piles, to protect them from the occasional floods of the river, and to prevent the intrusion of snakes, who often drop in upon them.

The boys were eager to see the greatest of all the sights of Rangoon as soon as possible, and they could hardly wait for the Doctor to complete the negotiations for their stay at the hotel. They found it very interesting, if we may judge from Frank's letter, which he wrote that evening, describing what they had seen during the day.

After narrating their impressions of the voyage up the river, and the sights on the way, the youth wrote as follows:

GREAT SHOAY DAGON, OR GOLDEN PAGODA.

"We went as soon as we could to see the Shoay Dagon, or golden pagoda, and it is the largest thing of the kind we have yet seen; I enclose you a picture of the pagoda, as it would not be possible to give a full idea of it with words alone. In the first place, it is on a small hill, which makes it all the more imposing, and enables you to see it from a long distance, and it rises way above all the houses and other buildings in Rangoon. As you come up to the entrance you find some horrid-looking griffins, with impossible features and a very angry look; but as they are of brick and stone, they are not at all dangerous. They are put there to keep out all evil spirits, but they could not prevent the occupation of the temple by the British soldiers when they captured the city in 1852. A gentleman who was here then says it was not a very solemn spectacle to see the soldiers smoking among the shrines, and cooking their dinners on the altars, while the necks of the idols were hung with cartridge-boxes, and their heads covered with military caps. The Burmese were very angry at the desecration, but as soon as the war was over the temple was restored to the care of the priests, and has remained in their hands ever since.

"If the griffins let you pass without trouble, you next come to some long passage-ways with high walls; these walls are decorated with Burmese paintings that represent the tortures of all wicked people, according to the Burmese notions, and it does not need a long study to convince you that the artists must have had very lively imaginations. There is a great deal of yellow and gold in these paintings, and in the other ornamentation of the walls; and certainly the gilding must have cost a large amount of money.

"Then you go on till you come to a staircase very much out of repair; when you climb the staircase you come to a stone platform 1000 feet square, and in the middle of this platform, or terrace, the shoay dagon stands. It is an octagonal pagoda 300 feet high and 500 in diameter, and is the shape of a bell, as you will see by looking at the picture. It is built of brick and stone, and covered with gold-leaf: the gold that was used for the gilding is said to have equalled the weight of the king who ruled at the time of its completion; but we are not told how much that was. It has worn off in spots by the heavy rains that fall in Burmah, but enough is left to give it a rich appearance, and justify the name it bears.

STATUE OF BUDDHA IN THE GOLDEN PAGODA.

"Around the base of the pagoda are some smaller pyramids of the general shape of the great one, and there are broad steps of stone with more griffins to watch over them. When you get inside the pagoda you find temples and statues in irregular order, as though they had been put there without any general plan; some of the sitting statues are ten or twelve feet high, and we saw some standing ones that must have measured eighteen feet at least. They represent Buddha, or Gaudama, and the largest are of brick and mortar, while the smaller ones are of metal. All are gilded, and some very thickly, and a good many had their garments made of bits of glass that were arranged to give a very pleasant effect. The general appearance of the temples and statues reminded us of those of Siam that we have already told you about, and the object is the same—the veneration of Buddha. It is proper to remark that the pagodas of Burmah are not actually temples, but simply the places where sacred relics are kept, and so the only sanctity the edifice possesses comes from the articles deposited there. The relics in this pagoda consist of eight hairs from the head of Gaudama, or the last Buddha, and a few other things of less importance. We were not permitted to see these relics, but only the shrines containing them.

"I send you also a picture of the statue of Gaudama, so that you may see how a Burmese idol looks. It is not a fine work of art, as the fingers are out of proportion to the arms, and the arms to the body, while the nose and mouth are on a more liberal scale than the most of us would like to have. All these statues have a very happy and contented expression, and some of them actually seem to smile when you look at them.

"From the golden pagoda we went to a pavilion near by, where hangs the Great Bell of Rangoon. All three of us went inside, and there was room for half a dozen more; the Doctor stretched his arms to their full length, and could just touch the edges of the bell with the tips of his fingers. The bell has no tongue or clapper, but is rung by means of a beam swung against the outside. The bells of Burmah are generally tongueless, but the Doctor says that is not the case with the belles.

"This great bell is said to be worth a hundred thousand dollars, as it contains a large amount of gold. Before it was cast the people of all classes crowded around to throw their offerings into the furnace where the metal was melted; women gave the golden ornaments from their ears, and the anklets and armlets that are so highly cherished throughout the East; men threw into the molten mass their golden scabbards, often glistening with jewels, and their costly betel-boxes; and even children came with their toys of copper or baser metals, where they were too poor to give gold or silver. The bell has a delicious tone, and in this respect is said to be the finest of all the great bells of the world.

"When the English captured Burmah, in 1824, they tried to carry the great bell away to England. While they were loading it into the ship the tackle broke, and the bell fell into the river, where it lay till after the country was restored to the Burmese. The latter fished it out and put it back in its place, and since then it has not been disturbed. The natives believed that so long as the bell remained here, and gave forth its sounds, the country could not be conquered; but their theories have been somewhat confused, as the English have had possession of this part of Burmah since 1852.

"The golden pagoda and its enclosure were full of natives coming to their worship, or going from it, while not a few seemed to be there for the sole purpose of idling away the time.

A BURMESE WOMAN.

"The Burmese have some resemblance to the Siamese in features and stature, but their physiognomy is not the same to a close observer, and there is a considerable difference in the dress of the two people. The children wear little clothing, or none at all, and when thus costumed they look very much like young Siamese in similar garb. Both men and women wear a short jacket of white material, and coming down about to the hips; the men wear a putso, which is a piece of silk or cotton cloth about a yard wide, wrapped around the waist, and descending to the knees, while the women have a similar garment that comes nearly to the ground. In each case this article is more or less gay in color, and the more red or yellow they can get into it the better are they suited. Both sexes wear the hair long; the women comb it straight back over the forehead, while the men make a bunch of it on the top of the head, and frequently cover it with a gaudy handkerchief.

"Both sexes wear ornaments in the ears, and large ones too. The ear is pierced so that it looks as though a large piece had been taken out of it: we are told that they puncture the ear when a child is very young, and gradually enlarge the opening by inserting pieces of bamboo. The ear is not considered properly pierced until the hole through it is at least half an inch in diameter; then it is useful as well as ornamental, as it will hold a cigar or any article of similar size, and a Burmese clerk finds it a convenient place for carrying a pencil. Doctor Bronson says that when you send a messenger to carry a letter, he rolls it up and puts it in his ear; he might put it in his pocket, but then he is far less likely to have a pocket about him than to have his ear pierced. The women use their ears as bouquet-holders, and it is not unusual to see one of them walking along the streets with a bunch of flowers in her ears that would sell for at least ten cents on Broadway in a summer afternoon.

A BURMESE JUDGE AND HIS ATTENDANTS.

"The natives have their own courts and ways of justice, subject to the control of the English; but the latter do not interfere with them so long as their sentences are not accompanied with cruelty. The British rule has been so humane, in comparison with the tyrannical methods of the kings of Burmah, that the people are quite content with the invaders, and have no desire to return to the old system. It is the custom of the Burmese to submit their disputes to an elder, whose decision is rarely opposed. We had a chance to look into a native court on our way back from the pagoda; the elder was sitting cross-legged on a stool, and his attendants were seated or squatted near him—two on each side. One of them was holding an umbrella—the symbol of dignity and power—and on the floor in front of the judge there were two large fans of palm-leaf. At certain parts of the ceremonials of a court these fans are taken up and waved, and, no matter how small the case may be, the judge displays an immense amount of dignity in giving his decision.

"It is said that the Burmese judges are very corrupt, and the man who pays the highest price can have the kind of justice he wants. This is particularly the case in those parts of Burmah where the English are not in power, and the whole government is a system of bribery and corruption. The officers are rarely paid, and even if they are they get very small salaries; a gentleman who has lived here some years, says that a native official in Burmah cannot make an honest living unless he steals it."

While Frank was busy with his description of the golden pagoda, and the sights connected with it, Fred devoted his attention to a short account of the British in Burmah, and how they came there. Here it is:

"The British possessions in Burmah comprise about 100,000 square miles of territory, with 5,000,000 inhabitants; they include the former States of Tenasserim, Aracan, and Pegu, and these States are now the three provinces that constitute the Government of British Burmah. The first two have been occupied since 1824; Pegu was captured at that time, but afterward restored, and it remained in Burmese possession till the second war, in 1852. An American doctor, who was temporarily serving on an English gun-boat during the second war, says that the Burmese were very brave in many instances, but of course they were no match for the artillery and other warlike apparatus of the English.

BURMESE RIVER SCENE.

"But it seems that not all the bravery was genuine, for when this doctor went through the fortifications of Rangoon, after its capture, he found that the Burmese general who commanded the place had chained his gunners to the cannon, so that they could not run away. And furthermore, when the battle was going on, the wives and children of the officers and soldiers were penned up in the trenches, and ordered to lose their heads if the defence was not successful.

"Many of the cannon used in the defence of Rangoon were made of teak logs, hooped with iron; some did good service, but many of them burst after a few rounds, in consequence of being overloaded. The Burmese were at least two hundred years behind the times in making and using artillery; and they were not much better off with their war-boats, which were very narrow in proportion to their length, and made from the largest teak logs, hollowed out like the canoes of the Indians. They were rowed or paddled, and there were from fifty to one hundred rowers in each boat; the men kept time by singing a monotonous song, which had the word 'hah!' at the end of each line, and every time the 'hah!' was uttered the paddle was dipped into the water. The boats were propelled very swiftly by their crews, but the thin sides offered no resistance to the cannon of the English ships, and a single well-directed shot was enough to knock one of them to pieces.

"So much about the war, which did not last long when it was fairly begun. After peace was arranged, the English went to work to develop the country as much as possible, and to show the natives they had come there to stay. They made roads, introduced steamboats on the rivers, and a few years ago they began the construction of a railway which is intended to run to the frontier, and some time go on to the capital of the kingdom of Ava, which is the part of Burmah that remains under its native ruler.

"The country has been very prosperous since the English took possession of it; the population has doubled in consequence of immigration—some of it from China, and some from native Burmah; and the natives seem to understand very well the advantages of living under a government that does not oppress them. The principal product of the country is rice, and it is exported to England and other countries; Rangoon rice is not unknown in America, and sometimes there have been half a dozen ships loading at one time in this port for the United States. About 2,000,000 acres of land are devoted to the cultivation of rice, and a few hundred acres to indigo, tea, and mulberries. There are very few manufactures; with the exception of a small quantity of silks that are woven at Prome, and some lacquered ware, the country does not make much that the rest of the world cares for.

"Perhaps this information will be found a little dry to some of the boys at home, but if it is they can skip it. There's a good deal more I could say, but the hour is late and we must rest ourselves for to-morrow."

NATIVE FORT CAPTURED BY BRITISH TROOPS.

[CHAPTER XIII.]

A VOYAGE UP THE IRRAWADDY.

While the boys were busy with what we have just read, the Doctor was endeavoring to arrange a journey into the interior, and, if possible, to enable his young friends to see the King of Ava and his capital city. But a serious difficulty arose, and rendered a visit to the capital impossible.

The old King of Burmah had died a short time before; his successor, King Theebaw, was unfriendly to foreigners, and apparently to everybody else, and there was a good prospect of another Burmese war. Theebaw had imprisoned some of the European residents of Mandalay, the capital, but afterward released them through fear of trouble with the British authorities. The English had withdrawn their official representative at Mandalay, and the steamers ceased to run from Rangoon to the capital; an insurrection had broken out among the Burmese, the exact extent of which was not known; small pox had appeared in the palace, the king's brother and uncle having died of it, while the king himself was supposed to have been attacked with the disease. The astrologers at the royal court were endeavoring to ward off the effects of the evil spirits, and ordered sacrifices to appease them. Hundreds of young girls were seized in the streets of Mandalay, and sacrificed in obedience to this order, and all who could leave the city were doing so. It was dangerous to go to Mandalay, and besides there was no way of getting there, since communication was cut off by the stoppage of the steamboats.

The next day news was received that the king had arrested about fifty of his relatives, and intended to put them to death, so as to prevent any intrigues for his place on the throne. They were kept in prison for a while, where they were treated with great cruelty, and finally murdered.

Of course the trip to Mandalay was abandoned at once; but as the steamers were still running to Thayetmyo, which is in British territory, and near the frontier, it was determined to go there. Passage was taken on a steamer leaving the following day, and at the hour appointed for departure our friends were on board.

The steamboat did not ascend the Rangoon River to the Irrawaddy, but passed through a channel known as Bassein Creek, which shortened the distance, and gave a better depth of water than the river. It was not till the day after leaving Rangoon that they entered the great river of Burmah, the Irrawaddy, which is about 1500 miles long, and is said to be the fourth in the world in the volume of water brought down by its current. In the latter part of its course it is nearly four miles wide, and at Bhamo, 1000 miles from the sea, it is not less than a mile from one bank to the other. It rises in the Himalaya Mountains, east of Thibet, and has a course that is generally southerly, though in one place it makes a large bend like the letter S, and in another it turns sharply from the south to the west. It is navigable for more than 1000 miles for boats drawing not over three feet of water, and it is open for the entire year.

The river is subject to great floods, and in the months of May and June the water is frequently forty feet above the lowest stage. In the dry season the channel is crooked and the current very rapid, but when the river is up the pilots pay little attention to the channel, but steer straight on, pretty much as they like.

NATIVE BOAT ON THE IRRAWADDY.

The boys were much interested in the novel sights of the great river; they endeavored to keep an account of the number of native boats, but finally gave up the effort, as the craft were too numerous to be counted, and allow time for seeing anything else. The boats were of all sizes and kinds; they were generally built of teak, the best timber in the world for ships, and they rose high out of water at both bow and stern. They were generally roofed over in the centre and at the stern, and sometimes there were two or three roofs of different heights. The steersman was elevated under a canopy over the stern, and at a little distance he resembled an idol in a shrine.

Many of the boats had tall masts for carrying a single square sail, such as the Chinese use, and of course they were not able to sail much into the wind. The captain told the boys that he had seen boats on the river with yards more than 100 feet long, and that 120 pulleys were needed to handle the sails properly. The larger boats had upper and studding sails, but all the rest had only the square sail.

MALAY "SAMPAN" OR RIVER-BOAT.

Several times the "wash" or "back water" from the steamboat overturned the little row-boats that ventured too near. These boats were hewn from a single log, like the "dugouts" of the United States, and were very easy to upset when not skilfully managed. The occupants did not seem to care much for being spilled out, as they immediately turned their boats right side up, baled them out with their hands, and then sprung in and laughed, as though it was a good joke. When the boys called attention to the first of these overturns, the captain of the steamboat told them of a wholesale upsetting he witnessed at the time of the second Burmese war.

"It was in front of Rangoon," said he, "and before we had actually begun to fight. The Governor of Rangoon was sending hostile messages, and we were sending equally hostile ones back, but not a shot had been fired.

NATIVE HOUSE NEAR THE RIVER.

"One morning the governor thought he would astonish us with a show of his force, and sent out a flotilla of thirty war-boats: they had all the way from twenty to fifty rowers in each boat, and it was really a beautiful sight. On they came with flags flying, gongs beating, trumpets sounding, and swords and muskets flashing in the sun: they dashed through the water at a rapid rate, and if the governor was looking on from the shore, he must have been pleased at the display.

"Just as they were making their finest appearance, an English steamer with despatches from Calcutta came up the river at full speed against the strong current. The Burmese were not accustomed to this sort of thing, and evidently knew nothing about the heavy swell that a big paddle-steamer makes. It caught the flotilla broadside on, between the ship and shore, and capsized every boat in it; the men saved themselves by swimming, but the whole lot of flags, gongs, muskets, swords, and other paraphernalia of Burmese war went to the bottom of the river. We laughed heartily at the ludicrous incident, which should have taught the Burmese that their war-boats are no match for an English steamer, even before she fires a gun."

The scenery of the river was not much unlike that of the Yang-tse in China, except that it was more tropical, and the foliage and verdure generally were more luxuriant. Wherever there was a forest the trees were large, and overspread with climbing plants and orchids; then for long distances the banks were covered with tall grass that would conceal an elephant walking through it, and for this reason it was called "elephant grass" by the officers of the steamboat. Villages of bamboo were reasonably abundant, some of them large and compactly built, while others were small and straggling. There were plantations of bananas and other tropical fruits, and sometimes they were so large and luxurious as to make a ready explanation of the very low price of these products of the soil in Burmah. If a man does not become weary of the monotony, he can get along very cheaply in this country by living on bananas alone.

The steamer made short stoppages at several villages, and finally rested for an hour or more at a place called Myanaong. This gave Doctor Bronson and the boys an opportunity to go on shore to see what the town contained.

A BURMESE TEMPLE.

There were crowds of natives in gaudy costumes, and nobody seemed to be actively employed. One man who spoke a little English offered to conduct the party around the place, and his offer was readily accepted. He led the way to a temple or pagoda with a curious arrangement of terraces and peaked roofs that can only be described by a picture. There was a good deal of gilding and yellow paint in the ornamentation of the building, and on the corners of the terraces there were staffs or poles with bells that jingled in the wind. As before stated, the large bells in Burmah have no tongues, and are rung by sticks of timber swung against them, but the small ones that hang on the roofs of the temples are better off. When the breeze is blowing they keep up a perpetual tinkle by no means unpleasant.

The entrance was up a marble staircase at one corner of the lowest terrace, and there was a similar stair at the opposite corner. Each of the entrances was guarded by fierce griffins, like those already described at Rangoon, and the carving was by no means of an ordinary character. The wood-carving on the ornamental parts of the building was generally well done, and the boys spent some time in examining the various designs. They climbed to the top of the edifice and looked down on the roofs of the lower buildings that surrounded it; some of these were the residences of the priests that had charge of the temple, and others were intended as lodging-houses for strangers who came there to worship, and intended to spend several days in the place. The priests were in yellow robes, like those of Bangkok, and their general appearance was much the same. The architecture of the temples, and certain parts of the worship of the Burmese, have no resemblance to the Siamese forms, but the principles of the religions are identical. Buddha is the divinity in the one country as in the other.

The steam-whistle called our friends back to the boat, and in a little while they were heading up the river once more. As they turned a bend above Myanaong, the captain pointed to a plain that stretched away for several miles along the bank of the river, and was backed by a dense forest.

"On that plain," said the captain, "I saw a fine example of the superiority of the European mode of warfare over that of these sleepy Orientals. I have already told you how we overset a fleet of their war-boats without endeavoring to do so, and now I'll tell how we dispersed an army of several thousand men in about five minutes:[5]

"The steamer that I was on during the second Burmese war was ordered to come up the river to prevent any re-enforcements going to the Burmese in Rangoon before we assaulted the place. Just before reaching this point we heard the sound of gongs and trumpets; it grew louder and louder, and we slowed our engines and crept gently along. Soon we discovered a great flashing and sparkling all over the plain, and from the mast-head we made out that an army was marching to the relief of Rangoon.

"Three 'woons,' or governors of as many districts, were leading the army, and it was a gorgeous array of elephants, horses, wagons, gongs, flags, trumpets, brass trappings, and all 'the pomp and circumstance of glorious war.' The three woons were on as many elephants in the front rank, seated on gilded howdahs, and shaded by gold umbrellas. Their servants knelt behind them with fans and betel-boxes, and the driver on each elephant's neck was flourishing his wand as though proud of the honor of directing the stately beast who carried a woon. Then came five elephants drawn out in a line, and laden with servants and baggage, and then twelve elephants bearing the sons and nephews of the woons, together with the staff-officers. Next came the horsemen, three or four hundred strong, and behind them the beaters of gongs and cymbals, with the blowers of trumpets; then followed the infantry, and then the wagons and the camp-followers, making a long, irregular column that stretched far away to the forest.

"It was a grand spectacle, and it seemed a pity to interfere with it, but in war we cannot give way to sentiment. They did not see the steamer, and were evidently not aware of her presence; the first intimation of it was given by our gunners, who dropped a couple of shells right in the midst of the elephants, and followed them with two or three more. Then the steam-whistle was blown, and a rocket was sent flying over the heads of the woons.

"The whole scene was changed in an instant. Half a dozen elephants stumbled and fell, and the air was full of golden umbrellas, white cloths, yellow arms and legs, and gilded howdahs that fell with a crash. The rest of the elephants turned and dashed through the multitude, dropping their burdens as they ran, or brushing them off against the trees when they reached the edge of the forest; the horses took fright and scattered in all directions, some with riders and others with empty saddles; the ox-wagons were overturned, and as for the people on foot, they emulated the horses in the matter of rapid travelling. All that grand army was scattered in less time than I have taken to tell about it."

"That was what you call 'a stampede,' was it not?" said one of the boys.

"Exactly so," was the reply. "The army was stampeded by the shells that came so unexpectedly and frightened the animals, and when they began to run the men on foot naturally followed their example. The elephant is a timid beast in many things, and so is the horse, and when they take fright nothing can stop them. The elephant was employed in war before the invention of gunpowder, but since that explosive came into general use he has ceased to be of any value on the battlefield. The Burmese are not cowards, but their animals are, and probably the lesson of that and other occasions has taught them to leave the elephant behind when going to battle. The lesson was quite as pointed as the one of overturning their war-boats by the swell of a steamer, and you can be sure it has not been forgotten."

The scenery began to change as they passed the locality of this one-sided battle; the flat banks disappeared in many places, and low hills came into view, and by-and-by the low hills changed to higher ones. Most of the hills were wooded, and the low ground, wherever it occurred, was covered with rice or banana fields, or perhaps with custard-apple and mango trees. Occasionally they passed heaps of firewood that had been piled on the banks for the use of the steamers, exactly as it is piled on the banks of the Mississippi, and whenever they stopped to take in fuel the process of "wooding up" reminded the Doctor very forcibly of the same operation on the great river of North America.

A COMPOSITE CREW.

Among the odd craft they met was one that had a monkey and a parrot as part of the crew; the parrot was seated on the top of the mast, while the monkey amused himself by climbing over the sail and displaying a good deal of general activity. Evidently he desired to drive the parrot from her perch, but had a wholesome respect for her sharp and powerful beak.

AN EASTERN WATER-FALL.

Where the hills came down to the edge of the river there was now and then a water-fall glistening among the foliage, and dashing its white spray over the rocks. The most of these cascades were small, and the boys observed that all the larger tributaries of the Irrawaddy joined the great stream through level plains.

At one of their halting-places a native boat lay close to them, and the odor that rose from it was not altogether agreeable to the nostrils of the strangers. Frank inquired the cause of the disagreeable smell, and was told that the crew was probably at dinner, and regaling itself on nagapee.

Naturally he wished to know what nagapee was.

"It is a condiment that they mix with rice to render it more palatable," the Doctor answered, "and is a great favorite with the Burmese. It is made by mixing finely-chopped fish with certain spices, and other flavoring things, till it is in the form of a paste. The fish is first allowed to get a little old, or 'gamy,' and before they chop it up the smell from it is anything but agreeably to a European. The flavor increases with age, and the older it gets the more do the Burmese like it."

Frank and Fred concluded they would take their rice without nagapee for the future. The perfume that rose from the boat was all they wanted.

MONASTERY AT PROME.

They stopped several hours at Prome, a large town that was said to contain some handsome pagodas and a Buddhist monastery, and was famous for its silk manufactories. One of the first persons our friends met on shore was a man whose accent was so decidedly American that Doctor Bronson at once asked from what part of the United States he had come. He proved to be a native of Massachusetts, and was settled in Burmah as a missionary: he invited the strangers to visit his house, but, as their time was limited, they were unable to do so.

This incident naturally led to a conversation concerning the American missions in Burmah, as soon as our friends were again on board the steamer, and moving up the Irrawaddy.

"Since the early part of this century," said the Doctor, "the American Board of Foreign Missions has been represented in Burmah; their stations are scattered throughout the country, and the labors of the missionaries have been attended with a great deal of hardship. Of late years they have fared better than they did when they first came here, as the authorities are less suspicious of them than formerly, and the comforts of life are more easily obtained. In the early days, and especially in the time of the first Burmese war, they were frequently arrested and thrown into prison: one of them, whose name is well known in the United States, was kept in chains for more than a year, and for a large part of that time he was under sentence of death."

One of the boys asked who this missionary was.

"He was Doctor Judson—Adoniram Judson," was the answer; "he came to Burmah in 1812, and died in 1850. He was two or three times in America between those years, and he died on a voyage from Rangoon to the Isle of France, where he was going on account of his health. He did a great deal for the advancement of the Burmese; he learned the language, and prepared a Burmese-English dictionary, together with a good many translations. The dictionary he made is the one now in use, though it has been considerably increased by other scholars.

"His imprisonment and sentence to death was owing to the suspicion that he was in secret correspondence with the English, who were then at war with Burmah. He and his wife were living at Ava, which was then the capital. At the time the war began, when the news came of the fall of Rangoon, the king was very angry, and ordered the arrest of three Englishmen residing there, and also of Mr. Judson. The prisoners were bound with cords, and then led away; on reaching the prison they were loaded with chains, and all four were fastened to a bamboo pole, so that if any one moved in the least degree he was sure to rouse his companions.

MRS. JUDSON VISITING HER HUSBAND IN PRISON.

"Mrs. Judson was arrested at the same time, and ordered to remain a prisoner in her own house. Here she was kept for several days, and she obtained her release by making a present to the governor of the city; then she set about obtaining the liberty of her husband and the other prisoners; but all that she could accomplish was to secure a modification of the severity of their treatment. As often as she was allowed she went to the prison, but she was generally stopped at the door, and could only talk with her husband with an armed guard standing between them. During the time of his captivity she wore the Burmese dress, so as to attract as little attention as possible when going about the streets.

"This imprisonment lasted nearly seven months, and then suddenly one day the prisoners were removed to a village several miles back from the river, and consigned to the 'death-prison.' They expected to be burnt to death, but for some reason the king hesitated to give the order, probably through fear that the British might make severe retaliation. Here they were kept six months, till the English succeeded in bringing the war to a close, and humiliating the king. All the prisoners were released; but the most of them died not long after, in consequence of their sufferings. Mrs. Judson had remained as close as possible to her husband during his captivity, and only lived about a year after his release. She died at Moulmein, during his absence at the capital to assist the British Commissioners in arranging a treaty with the king."

MRS. JUDSON TEACHING A CLASS OF NATIVE CONVERTS.

[CHAPTER XIV.]

UP THE IRRAWADDY.—MANDALAY.—AUDIENCE WITH THE KING OF BURMAH.

From Prome to Thayetmyo the voyage was without any incident of importance. Our friends had made the acquaintance of two or three English officers who were on their way to the military post at Thayetmyo, and just before reaching the landing the three Americans were invited to visit the barracks or cantonment. The invitation was accepted without hesitation.

BARRACKS ON THE FRONTIER.

The cantonment is on the frontier, between the native Burmah, or Ava, and the British possessions, or rather it is on British soil very close to the line. On the other side there is a station for Burmese troops, but for more than half the time it is unoccupied, and when troops are stationed there they have no intercourse whatever with the English, through fear of losing their heads. The British barracks consist of substantial wooden buildings, and there are shaded walks and drives all around them, and numerous little gardens which are maintained by the soldiers.

There was nothing of any special interest in Thayetmyo, as it is only a small village, and derives its importance from being a frontier post; consequently the boys were quite ready to return to the steamer, which was announced to start down the river early in the morning, or as soon as it had landed the cargo it brought up and taken in a new one. The work of discharging and receiving cargo was kept up during the night, and a little after daybreak the strangers were travelling once more in the direction of Rangoon.

They were consoled for their failure to go to Mandalay by making the acquaintance of a fellow-passenger who told them a great deal about the capital of Ava and its king, or rather about its former ruler, King Mounglon, as he had not been there since the throne fell to Theebaw. This gentleman, Captain Blakeley, had lived at Mandalay in the official service of the British Government, and was on fairly pleasant relations with Mounglon; he went frequently into the royal presence, and had been consulted at various times on matters of importance to the Burmese Government.

While he was telling the Americans about the Burmese court and other things of interest, Frank and Fred made sure of their memories by taking notes of the conversation: in the latter part of the voyage they wrote out in full what they had briefly set down, and then read the matter over to their polite instructor. He complimented them on the accuracy of their report, and said he could not have done better than they in putting his own words on paper.

Here is the report, which is supposed to be in the words of Captain Blakeley:[6]

VIEW OF MANDALAY, CAPITAL OF THE KINGDOM OF AVA, OR BURMAH.

"You must know, to begin with, that the Kingdom of Ava, or Burmah, changes its capital very often. Five hundred years ago the city of Ava was made the capital, and it remained so for nearly three centuries. Monchobo was the capital from 1740 to 1782, and then the seat of government was taken to Amarapoora, where it remained till 1819, when it went back to Ava. Twenty years later Ava was destroyed by an earthquake, when the court moved to Monchobo, later to Amarapoora, again to Ava, and last (in 1857) to Mandalay. These cities are only a few miles from each other, and whenever the capital is changed the inhabitants of the old city are mostly taken along to start the new one. In 1855 the site where Mandalay stands was a series of rice-fields; now a city of 100,000 inhabitants covers the ground, and is enclosed by substantial walls of brick and mud.

BOAT DRAWN BY A BULLOCK.

"You can't see much of Mandalay as you approach it by steamer, as it lies on a level plain, and the houses near the river are not the best that the city contains. You will be reminded of Rangoon, or Bangkok, as the spires of the temples and pagodas are thickly surrounded by foliage, and it is only when you have climbed to the top of a temple, and looked down from that elevation, that you begin to have an idea of the extent of the city. In the rainy season a great part of the plain around Mandalay is flooded, and then the natives go about in canoes and on rafts. Sometimes you see them in boats drawn by bullocks or buffaloes; the unhappy animals are forced to wade where the water is a foot or two in depth, and where there is a scarcity of harness they drag the craft behind them by means of ropes tied to their tails.

"In the city itself most of the houses are on posts or piles, to avoid the effects of the inundations; the best of them are two stories high and of brick or framed timber; but there is a large number of only one story, and this is invariably the case with the smaller dwellings of the natives, which are constructed of bamboo. These houses burn easily, and sometimes they have fires that cause immense destruction, and devastate acres and acres of ground. The only consolation after such a fire is that the houses are not costly, and the sufferers can easily be lodged again.

"The population of Mandalay is principally Burmese, as might be expected; but there are great numbers of Chinese living there, and most of the commerce of the place is in their hands. Then there are many Malays, and people from other parts of Asia; as for the Europeans, there are not more than twenty or thirty, and they include a few men engaged in trade, two or three missionaries, and the English resident and his official assistants. At present there is not a single European in Mandalay, as you are already aware, on account of the danger of war with King Theebaw.

"The city and its suburbs cover several miles of ground, but the city itself is a mile square, with high walls enclosing the four sides, and each wall pierced with three gates. Outside the wall there is a deep ditch that is kept constantly filled with water, and evidently it is the intention of the king not to be taken by surprise by having his ditch empty. The soldiers of the king are stationed at all these gates to preserve order, and see that no hostile force enters the sacred precincts, but they would be a poor match for European troops. Their uniform is a combination of the English and Burmese dress; they are almost always barefooted, and their guns are a mixed lot from all parts of the world, and generally of very old pattern. Some of them carry heavy swords that resemble butchers' cleavers, and others are armed with swords and lances.

"The king has a great many titles, and some of them have a comical sound in Western ears. Here is a fair sample of them:

"His Golden-footed Majesty, Ruler of the Sea and Land, Lord of the Celestial Elephant and Master of many White Elephants, Owner of the Shekyah, or Indra's Weapon, Lord of the Earth and Air, Lord of the Power of Life and Death, and Great Chief of Righteousness.

"It is no wonder that he considers himself of great importance when he has all these titles applied to him, and many more besides. Some of them sound like burlesque, particularly the one that calls him ruler of the sea and land; he has no seaport of any kind whatever, and all his commerce with foreign countries must descend the Irrawaddy through British territory, or be carried overland to China.

"The government is a despotism of the most emphatic sort; the king has the power of life and death over all his subjects, and may order any one beheaded without the slightest reason, and at a moment's notice. It is said that in old times, whenever the court ceremonies were going on, if any person made the least mistake, even so much as taking a short step when he should have taken a long one, or vice versa, the king commanded him to be beheaded, and he was taken outside the building and decapitated instantly. They are not so bad as that in these latter days, though King Theebaw seems to be coming quite near the ancient mark.

"The form of government is about the worst that could be imagined; the king takes the revenue, or so much of it as reaches him, and spends it in any way he pleases, and when his pocket gets empty he makes a fresh collection. Some of the districts up the river are subject to frequent levies; the inhabitants have several times refused to pay, but it seems that they are dependent upon the lower country for their supply of salt, and whenever their taxes do not come promptly, the king prohibits the exportation of salt to them. This is sure to bring them to terms; but it is now rumored that they have found a mountain of salt there, and if so, they will be likely to declare themselves independent.

"My first interview with the king was a more ceremonious affair than subsequent ones, and there were many novel features connected with it. The audience was appointed for ten o'clock in the forenoon, and I was there promptly with my introducer; when we got to the palace we were told that we must wait till eleven o'clock, as his majesty was just then occupied with the royal astrologer, who had made some important discoveries in the positions of the stars. There was no help for it, and we waited; but in the mean time we had interviews with some of the ministers, and other persons attached to the court, so that the period of waiting was not altogether lost.

"Most of the ministers do not receive any salaries, but are supported by bribes and extortions. They try all cases that are appealed to them, and take ten per cent. of the amount involved as their compensation; it often happens that they take the whole money, and the winner of the case is told that he must be satisfied with the honor of defeating his adversary. The king pays his troops and officers in goods that he buys of the merchants, and if they wish to convert them into cash, they must sell at half price, or even less. In fact, the whole government is a system of bribery and corruption, and the wonder is that it has kept up so long.

THE ROYAL PALACE AT MANDALAY.

"The king rarely goes out of his palace, as he is constantly fearful that some ambitious relative will endeavor to supplant him if he leaves home even for a single hour. The royal palace covers about seventy acres of ground, and is surrounded by two walls, the inner wall being thirty feet from the outer one. The palace is a gaudy sort of building, with a great deal of carved woodwork around the eaves of its many roofs and stories, and having poles for bells and flags at every corner and angle. It looks better at a little distance than when close at hand, as it is not always kept in good repair; and since the king stays inside the most of the time, he can hardly be expected to know enough about the roofs and outer walls to give the proper orders concerning them. The gates of the palace are very strong, and made of beams of teak fastened together with iron bolts. They could not offer much resistance to artillery, or even to a keg of powder exploded against them, but could hold out for some time against anything that an ordinary force of Burmese could bring forward.

"Everybody who goes to be presented to the king must carry a gift of some kind, as this is the custom of the country. I was aware of the custom, and so came provided with a handsome travelling-clock, by one of the best makers in Paris; the prime-minister looked it over carefully to see that no dangerous explosive was contained in the clock, and then said it was quite appropriate to the occasion. When the time came for the audience, the minister led the way to a stone staircase, and motioned for us to leave our shoes, which we did. Then we ascended the staircase, and were admitted to the reception-room, and shown to our places. A few paintings adorned the walls, and at one end there was a green curtain with an opening about ten feet square; through this opening we could see a stage about a yard in height, and there were steps leading from the floor of the room to the stage. At the top of these steps there was a velvet cushion, on which a handsome opera-glass was lying, and I readily guessed that this was the station of the king during the audience. The party for the audience consisted of eight or ten persons; two or three princes of the royal family were on the right, facing the cushion; then came the prime-minister, then myself, and next to me my introducer; then two missionaries and a couple of merchants, if I remember correctly. Behind us were some Burmese officials, who had been recently appointed, and had come to thank the king, and make him the customary presents in token of their recognition.

COPY OF AN OLD BURMESE PAINTING.

"In front of each person there was a little stool or bench, which held the present he had brought; the master of ceremonies arranged us and our presents in the proper order, and we were specially cautioned to keep our feet behind us, as it is very improper to allow a royal personage to see the soles of your feet under any circumstance. The Europeans were seated on the floor in a half-kneeling attitude, while all the natives were prostrate, with their faces within an inch of the floor, and their feet as far aft as it was possible to get them. They kept their eyes turned downward, and I very much doubt if any of them saw enough of the king to say how he looked, and what he did.

"The king—remember, I am speaking of Mounglon and not of the present ruler, Theebaw—came forward at the sound of a couple of blows on a drum, and laid himself down against the cushion with one side of his body toward the audience. Then he picked up the opera-glasses and deliberately surveyed the entire party one after another, though we were not more than twenty feet away from him. I suspect that the glasses were something new, and he was desirous of using them as much as possible, since he did not appear to be near-sighted. When he had finished his inspection he waved the glass to indicate that the performance might go on, and on it went. The king's secretary read the names and occupations of the various persons to be presented, together with a list of the presents they had brought.

"Then the business of each person was stated; those who had petitions to present handed them forward, and they were referred to the proper minister; newly-appointed officers, who had brought baskets of fruit, were very quickly disposed of, and then the king talked with me, through an interpreter, concerning England and its customs. He hoped I would enjoy my stay in Mandalay, and said he had found the English very pleasant people, and most agreeable neighbors. The last remark was more polite than truthful, as he could hardly be expected to regard with favor the foreigners who have possessed themselves of two-thirds of ancient Burmah, and may fairly be suspected of wanting to capture the rest.

"The audience lasted about half an hour, and was brought to an end by the king suddenly rising and going out of the room. One of the queens had been standing behind the screen, and fanning his majesty with a long-handled fan made of peacock's feathers. As soon as her lord and master walked away, she satisfied her curiosity by seeing what kind of beings the strangers were. She came to the opening in the screen, and as she stood there we had a full and fair view of her. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she was very pretty that she thus allowed us to see her, but of this I cannot be at all certain. At any rate she was exceedingly handsome, and I was told that the other three queens were as good-looking as herself. The king has something more than a hundred wives, but only four of them hold the rank of queens.