# Recollections of Full Years/Chapter 8

The Philippine Islands as mere territory do not seem to have impressed themselves very forcibly upon the general American mind, and the average person one talks with really has but a vague conception of their importance as regards number and area. There are enthusiasts who do not hesitate to declare for the edification of wondering friends that there are more than three thousand islands in the group, but it is necessary to explain that a vast majority of these are dots upon the map not to be considered in the sum total of habitable area. And yet the archipelago is one of the finest on earth and not much smaller in point of arable land than the whole Japanese island empire with its fifty-odd millions of inhabitants.
It is a rather widely distributed territory and its population, some seven millions six hundred thousand in number, comprises a variety of peoples, each of which has its own language and its own traditions, though all Christian Filipinos are much alike in general characteristics.
Personally to superintend the establishment of civil government throughout the Islands at a time when many of the people were still in sympathy with armed resistance to our authority was a tremendous task for the Commission to undertake, but it was thought that only through direct contact could anything like sympathetic understanding be obtained. Tranquillity had, as speedily as possible, to be restored, and while the ungentle persuasion of armed force continued for some time to be a necessity, the methods adopted by the civil officials never failed to make a visible and lasting impression.
It was decided in the beginning that the ladies should accompany the Commissioners on their long organising trip ​through the southern islands and the success of our visit to Bataan proved to us that as members of the governmental party we could make ourselves distinctly useful.
We wanted to get away much earlier than we did but the exigencies of the still active military operations made it impossible for the Commanding General to supply us with a transport, so it was not until the tenth of March that we started out on what proved to be one of the most unique expeditions of my life.
It begins to get very hot in the Philippines in March and this being our first “hot season” in the Islands we felt it particularly. It is always warm enough but there is a variety in the temperature which one soon begins to appreciate. From November to February it is almost always delightful, just warm enough; and sometimes, in the evenings, cool enough for light wraps. But in March the heat becomes intense and not until the rains begin in June or July can anything pleasant truthfully be said about the climate.
However, this southern island trip was not a pleasure jaunt and it was of such historic interest that none of us was willing, out of consideration for personal comfort, to forego the privilege of making it.
General MacArthur assigned to the Commission for the southern trip the transport Sumner, which contained sufficient cabin space to accommodate in comfort a large party. Besides all the ladies in the civil government, the Commission had invited some newspaper men and a number of prominent Filipinos who were pledged to the restoration of peace under American control. Among them were representatives of all the peoples in the southern islands to be visited. Then, too, we all took our children. We had to; and it was fortunate for us that they were such experienced and adaptable little people else they might have proved a great nuisance in such a mixed party and on a trip where we were ​to stop at twenty-odd different towns and attend innumerable meetings, banquetes and bailes. But, as it was, they gave us little trouble. Mrs. Moses' little daughter, who had just come out from San Francisco, my daughter Helen and my son Robert, Mr. Fergusson's son Arthur and young Jack Branagan, were all about the same age, and they never tired of devising games that could be played around such parts of the decks as were not infested with grown-ups. Then, to while away the hours when their elders were attending ceremonies on shore, they explored bays and rivers in a sailboat which was rigged out for them by Captain Lyman, of the Sumner, a most fatherly man who seemed to enjoy this unusual opportunity to indulge his love for children. On the beaches they collected an infinite variety of shells, corals and malodorous marine curiosities, but these they kept on the lower decks where they could enjoy them in peace. Charlie was, of course, the ship's baby. He was younger than either of the Worcester children and, I am afraid, somewhat less well behaved. He scorned their rather quiet amusements and led a strenuous and independent existence which gave me some uneasiness. He rushed around over the ship with the utmost carelessness, delivering orders in a strange jargon to his little Filipino nurse, who was always rushing after him just far enough behind to be utterly useless in case anything should happen to him. It was a certainty that should he fall overboard she would reach the rail just in time to see him sink. Some of the deck rails were low, but strange to say he came through without accident. I think Charlie must have acquired some of the surefootedness of a cat. He had been twice around the world before he was eight years old, and that he managed to grow up into an unscarred and quite decorous young man was certainly not due to natural caution on his part nor to over-restraint on ours.
FILIPINO MEMBERS OF THE ORGANISING PARTY ENJOYING AFTERNON REPOSE ON THE DECK OF THE "SUMNER"
The Filipinos in our party, who were invited to go in order that they might give the Commission information and advice and also, in some measure, explain to their own compatriots the intentions of the American Government, included Chief Justice Arellano, the two Supreme Court Judges, Llorente and Araneta, and the originators of the Federal Party, Don Benito Legarda, Doctor Pardo de Tavera and General Flores. The Federal Party expected to organise in the far provinces and it was hoped this would have a healthy effect on insular politics. There were about ​sixty of us in all and I think we must have seemed rather a formidable host to some of the nervous reception committees that were forced to encounter us.
It was all wonderfully interesting. Our first stop was at Lucena in the Province of Tayabas. We arrived there in the late afternoon so we had to lie at anchor until next morning, but while the daylight lasted we gazed eagerly at the shore through our field glasses and were astonished to see the crowds of Filipinos not only lining the beach but wading in throngs out into the Bay, as far as they safely could. It was as if they had decided to walk out to meet us. And the town was decorated, decorated magnificently. There were bamboo arches a-flutter with flags and flags flying everywhere, to say nothing of bunting and palm leaves and myriads of gay paper streamers.
Bright and early the next morning the reception committee came out in a steam launch, accompanied by Colonel Gardiner, the American Army officer in command of the garrison. The Filipinos, immaculate little ex-insurrectos to a man, proudly climbed the gangway, stopped to adjust their attire, then proceeded to bid us welcome with the utmost grace. Their spokesman made the usual cordial speech, which Mr. Fergusson solemnly interpreted. He laid at our feet everything to which he or the town of Lucena had any claim, and assured us that the honour of our visit was most deeply appreciated by the entire community; then he and his companions stood smiling before us while Mr. Fergusson turned my husband's simple words of thanks and appreciation into Spanish metaphor and hyperbole.
I have often thought that America never could have won the friendship of the Filipinos if it hadn't been for Mr. Arthur Fergusson's clever tongue. My husband's smile and frank geniality accomplished much, but his interpreter's suavity struck a deeper and more familiar chord and together they created harmony. They were a remarkable pair as ​they stood side by side. Neither of them weighed less than three hundred pounds, but Mr. Taft was blond and ruddy, Anglo-Saxon no less in appearance than in manner and speech, while Mr. Fergusson was dark and rather dashing and seemed naturally to assume the lofty mien of a Spaniard when he spoke the beautiful Spanish tongue. Mr. Fergusson became Executive Secretary of the Islands when Civil Government was established and continued in that office until his death about six years ago. His loss to the men who were then doing America's work in the Philippines was incalculable and the whole community, Filipinos and Americans alike, joined in the warmest tributes to his memory that have ever been paid to an American in the Islands.
When we arrived at the landing in Lucena we found a motley throng of vehicles awaiting us, and were greeted by a roar of vociferous speech from the cocheros which sounded like imprecations, but which turned out to be the Filipino equivalent for the deafening "Cab, lady! Cab, sir!" with which travellers are welcomed at so many American railway stations.
Mr. Taft and I, who seemed, in the opinions of our hosts, to be the only persons of real importance present, were ceremoniously escorted to a diminutive Victoria decorated with flowers, while the rest of the party indiscriminately clambered into the nearest conveyances. Then started a mad race down an execrable road, where the holes and ruts were so filled with dust that there was no way of foreseeing or preparing for the bumps. Our carriage, being a sedate "flower parade" all by itself, was soon left far behind by the sportier two wheel vehicles, and when we arrived at the Municipal Building, where the meeting was to be held, confusion reigned. I have no doubt that several private secretaries had been greeted as the honourable "Presidente del Commission," but if so, their fleeting honours detracted nothing from the welcome we received.
​The streets were crowded with men, women and children waving flags and shrilly cheering, and just in front of the hall were drawn up two Filipino bands dressed in gorgeous, heavy uniforms decorated with such scraps of gold lace as they had been able to procure. Together they struck up the "Star Spangled Banner," but they kept together for just about two bars, each leader having his own fixed idea as to the proper tempo. One band finished several bars ahead of the other, and immediately, without so much as a lowering of instruments, it hurled itself into "A Hot Time in the Old Town To-night," whereupon the uplift of "Don't you hear those bells go ding-a-ling" collided merrily with the solemn sentiment of "Long may it wave!" Yet nobody laughed. We were cultivating a sobriety of demeanour because we knew we were dealing with a people whose ears heard not and whose eyes saw not as we hear and see.
The meeting which followed our spectacular reception was exceedingly interesting. The questions of the Commissioners elicited the information that Tayabas had been completely pacified for more than a year, although the surrounding provinces, Cavite, Laguna and Batangas, were among the most unruly in the Archipelago. This happy state of affairs seems to have been produced by Colonel Gardiner, in command of the garrison, who had displayed great tact in dealing with the peacefully inclined Filipinos and absolute military rigidity in his attitude toward the insurrectos. That his methods had gained popular approval was evidenced by the fact that every town in the province petitioned the Commission to make him Governor. The requisite permission to do this having been obtained from General MacArthur, who, as Military Governor, had specially to detail army officers for such service, it was done amid general rejoicing made violent by brassy discords from the jubilant bands which nearly drove me out of the building.
​There were many speeches and Mr. Taft, as usual, read and explained the Provincial Code to the assembly. After I had listened almost daily for more than six weeks to that dry-as-dust document I was sure that I could repeat it backward if I tried. Mr. Taft finished his speech with a neat little summing up of conditions in general,--mellifluously embellished by Mr. Ferguson,-- then he introduced Chief Justice Arellano as the ablest lawyer in the Islands and a man whom any country would be proud to own; which was literally true. The Chief Justice spoke for some time, earnestly, appealingly, and with great dignity, and he was listened to with reference. I had hoped that his speech would end the proceedings, but this was only the beginning of my experience with the Filipino love of oratory and I never thereafter entertained any optimistic ideas with regard to time limits.
But, as all things must, the meeting came to an end and, stretching our weary bodies, we accepted an invitation to view the town. Our progress was triumphal. In our flower-decked Victoria, with the municipal presidente on the little seat in front of us, Mr. Taft and I moved slowly along, one band in front of us blaring out "A Hot Time in the Old Town" with all the force of its lungs, and the other behind us doing its best to make itself heard and appreciated in a wholly original rendition of "Ta-ra-ra-ra-boom-de-ay." Then came the other members of our party in nondescript vehicles which jolted and creaked.
Speaking of Filipino bands, it may be thought that my partial description of those in Lucena is exaggerated. Not at all. There are more bands in the Philippines, perhaps, than any other one thing. The Filipinos as a people are extremely musical and, in many instances, have proved themselves capable of reaching a high point of musical proficiency, but in the early days of American occupation a vast majority of the musicians were the rankest amateurs ​who played "by ear" only. They had never been taught, but they could play, after a fashion, anything that anybody could whistle, sing or pick out for them on any instrument. They had listened to the American regimental bands and they had made selection for their own repertoires of such pieces as were easiest to play, hence the popularity of "A Hot Time in the Old Town," "Ta-ra-ra-ra-boom-de-ay," "Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey" and things of like character. They did not know the words, or the "sentiment" of the songs; they knew only the tunes, and these they played at all times, for occasions either solemn or gay. Of my own experience I can testify that "A Hot Time in the Old Town" makes a perfectly good funeral march when reduced to a measure sufficiently lugubrious.
It didn't take us long to see the town and when my ears could endure the discords no longer I explained to the pleasant little presidente that I thought it was necessary for the ladies to return to the transport for a rest before it was time to dress for the evening festivities. He protested that the town was ours, that his house and everything in it belonged solely to us, but I was backed up by my husband and the ladies finally were permitted to go out to the Sumner for a short respite. No such luck for the men. They had to attend a prodigious luncheon, an afternoon banquete really, and then continue, for the rest of the day, their interviews with Lucena citizens and American Army officers. And, be it remembered, it was insufferably hot.
The banquete and baile that evening were typical Filipino entertainments, novelties to me then and intensely interesting. It was a procession, a meeting, a banquete and a baile every day for nearly seven weeks unless by a happy turn of events it became necessary for us to sail for our next port in the afternoon instead of at midnight as we generally did. Under such circumstances, if any special entertainments had been prepared for the evening, such as torch​light processions, illuminations, or fireworks, they were duly produced in broad daylight, thereby losing much in general effect no doubt, but nothing in their proof of friendly intentions.
Processions and meetings may be just processions and meetings, but banquetes and bailes are not just banquets and balls, and that is why I always refer to them by their Spanish names.
We arrived at the banquete in Lucena at seven o'clock and found, in a great open room in a public building of some sort, a long table laden with mysteries. In the centre was a tremendous ornament, made entirely of toothpicks, built up to represent a flower garden. Whoever made it was a genius with both imagination and delicacy of touch. All along both sides of the table were strange, highly ornamental and formidable looking dishes which were evidently meant to be eaten. I didn't know what they were, but having acquired a cosmopolitan attitude toward food I was not at all dismayed. My chief concern related to the fact that a Filipino host expects one to eat at least a little of everything that is served and through endless courses of elaborately prepared meats one's appetite naturally becomes jaded.
The most important and distinguished Filipinos did not sit down at table with us. It is el costumbre del pais for the Filipino host to wait on his guests, to hover about and see that he enjoys what is given him, and until one gets used to it it is most disconcerting. The presidentes and fiscals and generals and other illustrados were not as skilful as trained servants and I found myself leaning this way and that in momentary expectation that one of them, in his excitement, would accidentally slip some sticky mixture down my back. There were speeches of course; there always are; and then more speeches, but we had to get to the baile, so they were not too long drawn out.
​The baile was given in the Municipal Building where the meeting of the morning was held, and when we arrived we found the hall quite filled with guests. The Filipino women didn’t display so many jewels and fine garments in those days as new because, in certain quarters, the insurrectos were still levying tribute, but the girls and women, many of them quite pretty, were very gay in long, trailing calico skirts and jusi, sinamay or pina camisas, while the men were attired in all manner of garments from calico and white linen to black cloth.
The men are nearly all excellent dancers, but the women are hampered somewhat in the ordinary “round dances” by their foot gear. They don’t wear shoes,—nor stockings either. At least, they didn’t in those days. They thrust their bare toes into little slippers called chinelas and cuchos, which look for all the world like fancy bed-slippers. There are two kinds: cuchos being considered very “dressy” and having heels which clatter on the floor, while chinelas are heelless and make a scuffing, shuffling noise.
THE SULTAN OF SULU BOARDING THE “SUMNER,” FOLLOWED BY MR. ARTHUR FERGUSSON, SPANISH SECRETARY TO THE COMMISSION
We left Lucena pretty much exhausted and slightly aghast at the prospect of sixty consecutive days of such strenuous festivities. Our route on the map lay like a tangled thread throughout the archipelago, and its immediate trend was toward the Equator, further and further south. Every point marked as a stopping place meant a full programme of business and festivities, but, hot as it was, not one of us willingly would have turned back. There was strong fascination in the very names of the places we were bound for.
First came Boak on the island of Marinduque. Who wouldn't endure a little discomfort for the sake of seeing Boak? This province could not yet be organised because it was not sufficiently peaceful for the successful introduction of civil government. The Commissioners, after endless interviews with Army officers and with leading Filipinos who were eager for the restoration of normal conditions, promised to return to the province on the way back to Manila and complete its organisation if, by that time, certain stipulations should have been complied with. This meant the bringing in of a couple of hundred insurrecto rifles and the gathering together of properly accredited representatives of the people from all parts of the island. We left behind us a disappointed but a determined town, and when we returned nearly seven weeks later we found such a difference as proved the wisdom of delay.
The Commissioners were really walking in the dark. Only through personal investigation could they learn the exact conditions in any town or province and this investigation had always to precede any definite action on their part. This made the proceedings long and arduous for them and drew the days out endlessly for the rest of us. ​Romblon, Masbate, Iloilo, Bacólod; each with its distinct problem, each with its own impassioned orators, and each offering boundless hospitality; we left them all in better condition, we hoped, than we found them and, certainly, we carried away from each in turn a feeling of great friendliness and gratitude for the courtesies they so enthusiastically extended.
From Bacólod, in oriental Negros, we set our course straight south to Jolo, to the Sulu Islands, to the realm of the comic opera sultan, and we woke up one brilliant morning to find ourselves in the prettiest harbour imaginable and in the midst of scenes which we could not believe belonged to the Philippine world. We were in Moroland. Straight before us, in the curve of the beautiful bay, lay a little white city, surrounded by bastioned walls which looked age-old, and backed by soft green hills and groves of tall cocoanut palms. A high white watch tower at the end of a long pier reminded one of piratical days and of Spain’s never-ending troubles with her Mohammedan subjects. Off to the right, against the farthest shore, was the strangest collection of habitations I had ever seen. To be told that the Moros live on the water is to imagine them living in boats, but these were houses built far out in the water, perched up on frail wooden stilts and joined together by crooked and rickety bamboo bridges.
The harbour was full of curious small craft; high prowed and beautifully carved war junks, long, graceful praos and slender canoes with bamboo outriggers, nearly all carrying sails of fantastic design and brilliant hues. Indeed, there was colour everywhere. Everything afloat was decorated in gaudy silks and pennants, the American flag predominating, while all the Moros who wore anything except a loin cloth were attired in costumes which were lively and strikingly original. These were made, for the most part, ​of rich silks of native weave in stripes or plaids of vivid, crude greens, reds and yellows, and from neck to ankle the more elegant ones were so tight that one wondered how they stood the strain. Around his waist each man wore a bright silk sash under which was thrust a long cruel looking knife in an ornamental and curiously shaped scabbard.
The picturesque fleet quickly surrounded the Sumner and while we watched the lithe, naked boys diving into the clear depths of the bay for coins that were thrown overboard for the purpose of testing their prowess, the American Army officers came aboard to bid us welcome to Jolo.
They explained that the Sultan of Sulu had given them some diplomatic difficulties which, they were glad to say, they had been able to overcome. He had at first decided to play the haughty monarch and to extend a royal invitation to the American officials to pay their respects to him at his “palace.” But a little reasoning had convinced him that the Commissioners were the accredited representatives of the President of the United States whose sovereignty he acknowledged and that it was therefore his duty to call on them, so, it was announced, he was on his way to the landing where the officers’ launch waited to bring him out to the Sumner.
Several large war junks carrying different chiefs, or dattos, preceded the imperial visitor and these men came aboard without waiting for His Majesty. We found them extremely entertaining. They were by far the most picturesque figures we had seen, and utterly unlike Filipinos. They were of a different build, lithe, active and graceful, with a free and defiant gaze which offered a strong contrast to the soft-eyed modesty of the Christian tribes. In their sashes they all carried long knives called barongs, campiláns and krises, which Mr. Worcester induced some of them to exhibit to our delighted eyes. They were of the most ​exquisite workmanship and design, inlaid, some of them, with gold and silver, and with hilts of hardwood beautifully carved.
Finally the officers' launch put out from the dock and we knew that the Sultan was approaching. As he came alongside the Sumner he received a salute of seventeen guns while we all stood by holding our ears and stiffening our nerves against the deafening shock. We were expecting some one similar in appearance to our friends the dattos, except that we were sure he would be accoutred in three times as much barbaric splendour. Fancy our disappointment then, when there emerged from the low awning of the launch a figure quite commonplace; a very short, very black little man in a heavy uniform of black cloth embroidered in gold braid, not unlike the uniform of a British Consul. He was awkward and homely and he had shiny black teeth; that is how I remember him. He had two attendants who served only to accentuate his own insignificance. The Commission got nothing out of him either. He had none of the polish and gentlemanly manners of the Filipino leaders, and conversation of any kind with him was found to be extremely difficult. Almost the only interesting remark he made was to invite the ladies of our party to call on his many wives, a thing I should have greatly enjoyed, but which was impossible because the Sultan's "palace" was back over the hills, on the other side of the island, a long way from Jolo.
A MORO DATU WITH HIS RETINUE, AND THE FAVORITE WIFE OF A DATU WITH HER MAIDS-IN-WAITING
At Jolo we received the news of the capture of Aguinaldo and his reception by General MacArthur at Malacañan Palace. General Funston, then a Colonel of Volunteers, was a conspicuous member of a small company of Army officers known locally as “the suicide squad,” who risked their lives in one exploit after another with the utmost unconcern, not to say glee, so we were not surprised at anything he might do. But there was a real thrill in the story of his daring venture into the remote and isolated camp of the insurrecto general and Dictator, and we cheered his performance with heartfelt enthusiasm, though our ardour was somewhat dampened by doubts as to what the arch-con​spirator would do in Manila. General MacArthur was not a politician; he was a soldier,—an officer and a gentleman,—and in his treatment of his captured enemy he was not likely to take into consideration the nature of the people with whom he was dealing.
However, that story has been told, well and often. We know that General Aguinaldo also was “an officer and a gentleman,” proving himeclé worthy of all the courtesy extended to him and accepting defeat with great dignity. He is the most striking figure in the Philippines even to-day, though one only hears of him as a peaceful and unambitious farmer in his native province of Cavite whence he emerges only on rare occasions to be present at some important social event in Manila where, among Americans in particular, he is most highly regarded, But, it must be remembered that at the time of He capture the Islands were still in a state far from satisfactory; that he had lieutenants in all parts of the archipelago endeavouring, under his orders, and by methods not counted as “civilised,” to keep alive the spirit of rebellion, and that he had an extraordinary genius for conspiracy and organisation. So it cannot be wondered at that my husband was deeply concerned and that he wished he were back in Manila where he could keep his large but gentle hand upon the delicate situation.
From Jolo we sailed to Zamboanga, capital of the Moro province, and thence to Cottabato. At Zamboanga we met an entirely different class of Moros, more refined, better educated and less spectacular than those in the Sulu Islands, and were entertaincd by the American Army officers in the ancient Fortress del Pilar, which still bears the marks of many a conflict between the Moros and the Spaniards. We met here two very interesting men, Datto Mandi, a Moro, and Midel, a leading Filipino. Mandi was said to be, and looked, part Spaniard, though he denied the Spanish blood. He was the chief of a ​tribe of many thousands of people and wielded a wide influence which the American Government never sought to curtail. He was a good business man and intensely loyal to the Americans, giving substantial demonstrations of his loyalty whenever opportunity offered. He told the Commission what has since proved to be the truth about Moro customs relative to slavery, the administration of justice and other matters, and displayed, altogether, a genuinely friendly and helpful attitude. Midel, the Filipino, was himself made a datto by Mandi and seemed inordinately proud of his rank. He was an odd individual with a doubtful record behind him. Sometime before we met him he had sent his son to be educated at the University of California, and it was he who delivered the province over to the American troops as soon as they arrived, having previously disposed of a couple of insurgent rivals of his own race who attempted to keep it out of American hands.
At Cottabato, a long day's sailing from Zamboanga across Illana Bay, we met the Moros who inhabit the valley of the Rio Grande del Mindanao, a large and sinister looking river. We communicated with these people through their dattos, Piang and Ali. Piang is the most powerful datto in the province. He is the son of a Chinese carpenter and a common Moro woman, and he won his position through shrewdness, generosity to his people and native ability. Ordinarily a peaceful conservative he was not always at peace with Ali, who is inherently warlike and a datto of royal descent, but a couple of American Army officers, Colonel Brett and Major MacMahon, in charge of the post at Cottabato, not only adjusted their differences but induced the royal Ali to marry the commoner Piang's daughter. Colonel Brett was Ali's "best man," while Major MacMahon stood sponsor for the bride. There are American Army officers who have seen strange service in our Far Eastern possessions.
​A few years after the time of which I write a daughter of Datto Mandi was married at Iligan in northern Mindanao and, to quote from Foreman's "History of the Philippines": "Several American officers were present on the occasion, accompanied by a Spanish half caste who acted as their interpreter. The assembled guests were having a merry time when suddenly the festivities were interrupted by the intrusion of a juramentado Moro fanatic, who sprang forward with his campilán and at one blow almost severed the interpreter's head from his body. Then he turned his attention to the other natives, mortally wounded two, and cut gashes in several others before he fell dead before the revolver shots fired by the American officers. After the dead and wounded were carried away and the pools of blood were mopped up, the wedding ceremony was proceeded with and the hymeneal festival was resumed without further untoward incident."
We were very fortunate that, disturbed as conditions were, no "untoward incident" of this nature occurred to mar the serenity of our first great trip through the Islands.
To illustrate Datto Piang's intense desire to establish his status as a loyal friend of the United States Government I think I must relate, in part, the conversation my husband had with him in regard to the gutta percha industry. The forests in the Rio Grande Valley and around Lake Lanao, in the northern part of the island were thought to be almost inexhaustible in their supply of gutta percha trees, and Piang was found to be a large dealer in the product. But inquiry elicited the information that the most primitive methods were employed in gathering the gum and that every year thousands of trees were destroyed, no idea of scientific conservation ever having entered the heads of the Moros. Mr. Taft asked Piang whether if we sent him an expert who knew how to have the trees treated he would undertake to enforce regulations which such an expert would frame. He ​said he acknowledged the sovereignty of the United States Government and held himself subject to its orders, every one of which he would obey. Moreover, he would make all the other dattos obey the same orders whether they were willing to do so or not. Then Mr. Taft explained that the United States Government might desire to lay a cable from San Francisco to the Philippines and that one of the great items of expense in such an enterprise was the gutta percha. He was merely trying to impress upon Piang's mind the immense value of his product and the necessity for its proper handling, but Piang immediately offered to make the United States a present of all the gutta percha it needed for a Pacific cable, declaring that all he wanted was a note from the authorities indicating the amount required. He would see that it was promptly gathered and delivered. Mr. Taft then told him that the United States always paid for whatever it received from any person, whether subject to its sovereignty or not, whereupon Piang declared that, anyway, he preferred to sell his gutta percha to the United States, and at a much lower price, too, than he was receiving from the Chinese dealers. He is just a clever, crafty Chinaman himself, is Datto Piang, but an interesting figure. After a thorough investigation of Cottabato and a right royal entertainment provided by a number of gorgeously attired dattos and sultans, of greater or less degree, who had gathered in the town to greet us, and gaze in wide-eyed curiosity upon us, we went on our way around the great island of Mindanao.
At Davao we saw thousands of acres of the highest hemp in the world, and a number of beautiful bead-bedecked hill tribes who had come down into coast civilisation for the purpose, no doubt, of seeing what we looked like.
These hill tribes are very interesting people. They are, perhaps, more picturesque than any of the other non-Christians, and they have developed to a fine point the art ​of making bead embroidered clothing. So beautiful and so unusual are these garments that the ladies in the party, forgetting everything else, made a grand rush to purchase some of them from the various tribesmen. Our eagerness, indeed, had finally to be restrained in order that attention might be given to the efforts of the Commission to enlighten the people as to our mission, but having patiently awaited the termination of business we returned to our search for the bead-work, only to find that the finer specimens could not by any process of cajolery be secured. Money meant nothing to the hillmen and we had no substitutes in the way of gewgaws to offer them. The only one of us who succeeded in getting a really good suit was Miss Anne Ide, and her success was the result of a curious incident. She met a chieftain gorgeously arrayed, and at a venture tried upon him the Samoan greeting and a Samoan song which she had learned in her childhood when her father was Chief Justice of the Samoan Islands. To her great surprise the Bogobo answered and seemed greatly pleased. He had already had conveyed to him the fact that the only thing the ladies wanted was bead clothing, so he indicated to Miss Ide that he would present to her his coat and pants, and without further ado, and much to her astonishment, he began to divest himself of these garments which she accepted with delight. The incident awakened natural curiosity on our part as to the relation between the Polynesian language of Samoa and the vernacular of the hill tribes around the Davao gulf.
From Davao we proceeded on our journey around Mindanao, sailing out into the open Pacific and up to the province of Surigao in the northeast corner of the island.
PICTURESQUE BEAD-BEDECKED BOGOBOS OF THE DAVAO COUNTRY
The launch was not large enough to accommodate the entire party so it towed a cutter which also was fairly well loaded. When the men finally arrived, full of explanations and good-natured apologies, it was pitch dark, but, being optimists, we shoved off into the river, feeling sure that the fears of our commanding officer were groundless.
After steaming merrily along for a few miles, becoming more and more confident all the time, we suddenly got a shaking bump and found ourselves fast in the mud. It didn't take so long, however, to get afloat again, and we were just congratulating ourselves that the captain's bug-bear of a sandbar was behind us when we felt a violent impact followed by a terrifying sensation as if the keel were grinding over rocks.
The captain swore softly and said something about striking "the ruins of that old Spanish bridge," then hurried forward to see what damage had been done. The people in the cutter, riding the short waves in our wake, were thoroughly alarmed and were clamouring to know what had happened to us. We couldn't tell them, but it sounded very ​much as if we had torn the whole bottom out of the launch. The engine had stopped; it was inky dark; the children all began to cry; and, to add further discomfort to the situation, it began to rain in torrents. The launch swayed sickeningly this way and that, then the engine started again, whereupon came a most furious clatter aft. There is no denying that it made us blanch with fear, but it proved to be only a blade of the propeller which had been bent and was striking the boat with each revolution.
Three times more we slid into the mud; the last time we stuck and no effort that could be made would get us out, so we were forced to abandon the launch and wedge ourselves altogether into the little cutter. You may picture for yourself the scene of men, women and children, in the rain and with no light save the faint flicker of lanterns, dropping off a big launch into a small rowboat over an inky stream supposed to be filled with crocodiles.
When we reached the mouth of the river the captain began to show signs of nervousness, though he had been entirely self-controlled throughout the worst of our troubles. We couldn’t see where we were going, but we could distinctly feel that the open bay lay not far ahead of us. What we wanted was to have the Sumner’s searchlight turned on our path, but the only thing we had with us with which to convey this desire to the ship’s officers were red rockets, the last resort of the sailor in distress. There was nothing else to do; the launch captain began firing them off, and a weirder scene than was revealed by their momentary glare can hardly be imagined. They produced the desired effect, however, and in less than ten minutes a great shaft of light, straight from the bridge of the Sumner, was sweeping the banks of the river and bay shore and affording us just the kind of assistance we required.
But that was not the end. Less than half-way to the Sumner we met a lifeboat, equipped with all the parapher​nalia for rescuing us from a watery grave, and manned by an excited crew in oilskins, who, under the sharp commands of an almost frantic officer, were pulling in mad haste for the river’s mouth. When they saw us they lapsed into a state of utter disgust. They turned and rowed sadly back to the ship, and afterward I overheard them exchanging very definite opinions as to the possible future of a sailor who would burn red rockets when all he wanted was a searchlight.
After calling at Cagayan Misamis, Dapitan, Iloilo, San José Antique and Capiz, we made straight for Cebu. Cebu is, in rivalry with Iloilo and next to Manila, the most important town in the Philippine Islands. It is a receiving station for exports from all parts of the southern islands and is altogether what is known as a “live” town. It is the capital of the province of the same name which consists of a single long island some two thousand square miles in area and with a population (at that time) of nearly seven hundred thousand.
At Cebu we were rejoined by Chief Justice Arellano, who had left us sometime before to go back to Manila. We were greatly interested in his account of the effect of Aguinaldo’s capture and subsequent treatment. The erstwhile insurgent leader was still in prison, but his prison was made an honourable abode where he was permitted to be with his family and to receive his friends. The mass of the people would not, for a long time, believe he really had been captured. They thought the report was an American fabrication to delude them and to destroy their faith in Aguinaldo’s anting-anting,—or magic charm against defeat. The shattering of that faith gave vast impetus to the general peace movement and, though a few hundred rifles and several insurrecto officers were still unaccounted for, and though occasional outbreaks and the activities of marauding bands of outlaws continued for a considerable length of time, the ​actual organised insurrection had suffered a complete collapse.
The Commission kept Cebu on tenterhooks for a time as to whether the condition of order in the province was such that they could go on with the establishment of government there, and it was interesting to watch the effect of this uncertainty. To be included in the general organisation became at once the warmly expressed wish of a majority of the people, and there was great excitement throughout the town. Eventually Justice Llorente, of the Supreme Court of Manila, a member of our party, and himself a Cebuano, was appointed Governor of the province under the simple American form, and because of his integrity and real patriotism, because of the high regard in which he was held by the people, and because of the enthusiasm and complete faith with which he entered upon his duties, it was hoped that he would be able soon to lead his province into the sensible paths marked out for it.
With Cebu and the problems of Cebu behind us, we felt that our long trip was nearly finished. Bohol, Leyte, Samar, Albay, the Camarines and Sorsogon, each in its turn brought us nearer to our comfortable homes in Manila and to relaxation, for which we were beginning to long.
Each district expected us to give them at least a day for business and an evening for festivity, but this was not always possible. At Sorsogon we found a veritable riot of decoration, with fine arches and many flags and every indication that the town had spared no effort to make our visit there a memorable event. In the evening, beside the banquete and baile, there was to have been a torchlight procession, with a triumphal car and a Filipino maiden as the Goddess of Liberty. It was a great pity that we couldn’t stay, but we had to sail that afternoon for Boak, so the programme had to be advanced several hours.
The extraordinary car, or float, which had undoubtedly ​cost weeks of skilled workmanship, came forth into the blistering sunlight bearing the pretty brown girl in tinsel and white muslin, her long, black hair almost wholly enveloping her as she held aloft the flickering symbol of Enlightenment. It was a Filipino adaptation of the “sacred torch” which we had ourselves been carrying throughout the islands, and I felt that its production was a fitting climax to our laborious progress.
Two days later when we landed in Manila, after organising Marinduque and Batangas, we were able to look back upon a singular experience, an expedition perhaps unique in history, with which was ushered in a new era, not to say a new national existence, for the people of the Philippine Islands.