INSPECTING WITH THE SECRETARY OF WAR
August thirteenth is a holiday in the Philippine Islands, for it is
"Occupation Day," the anniversary of the fall of Manila and its
occupation by the American army. The special event is a "camp fire" in
the evening at the theater, when the Philippine war veterans gather
together and have addresses and refreshments. After a dinner with Tom
Anderson at the Army and Navy Club, with its picturesque quarters in an
old palace, intramuros, we attended this performance, sitting in the
Governor's box and listening to the happy self-laudation of the
"veterans," who all wore the blue shirt and khaki of war times.
It was toward midnight when we finally left and went out to our vessel,
for we were off for a trip among the southern islands on the cable
steamer _Rizal_. We sailed by the light of a full moon, and for a while
had a merry bobbery of it outside, after passing Corregidor. Soon,
though, we turned a point and had the monsoon following. In the morning
we woke to find ourselves steaming past the fine scenery of southern
Luzon, with the volcano of Taal in the distance. Several times during
the Spanish occupation this volcano dealt death and destruction, and as
late as 1911 it claimed many victims.
Our first landing place was at Kotta, on Luzon, where we started ashore
in a small launch. It was a beautiful river of palms, but our boat got
stuck in the mud and we were delayed. We finally reached the shore and
were put into automobiles. Then it was that I began to feel as if I had
joined a circus parade. Escorted by bands and soldiers, our motors moved
slowly along the streets. Everywhere people lined the way, while the
windows of the houses fairly dripped with heads.
We passed many little villages that looked prosperous, and processions
of carts, showing that the people were active and busy. The road ran
over picturesque bridges, for part of it was an old Spanish trail
rejuvenated. At all the villages they had made preparations to receive
the Secretary, bands were out, the children stood by the roadside and
waved, and the women stood in rows to greet us. The municipal buildings
were decorated, the piazzas hung with festoons and lanterns. They all
wanted to give us _comida_ and let off speeches, but it was impossible
to live through such hospitalities, so we only halted at each place a
few minutes to shake hands.
The stop for the night was Lucena, the home of Mr. Quezon, Philippine
Commissioner to the United States Congress. He traveled with us, and we
found him very attractive. The general opinion was that Quezon, Legarda,
and Osmeña were "playing to the gallery" for political capital, but at
the same time they were supporting our administration. It is a good deal
like some of our friends in Congress, who make speeches along lines that
they know are absolutely untenable.
After climbing into a bandstand, where we stood surrounded by people
peering up at us, flowery speeches began, demanding independence. They
were the first of the kind we had heard. The Filipinos are good speakers
and keen politicians. Among other remarks, an orator said: "Many things
occur to my mind, each of which is important, but among them there is
one which constitutes a fundamental question for the Filipinos and the
Americans. It is a question that interests equally the people of the
United States and the people of the Philippine Islands. It is a question
of life or death for our people, and it is a question also of justice,
for the people of the United States. The fundamental question is
evidently, gentlemen, the question of a political finality of my
country....
"We are very grateful for your visit, Mr. Secretary, and we hope that
the joy that we felt on your arrival may not be clouded, that it may not
be tempered, but rather that it shall be heightened, by seeing in you a
true interpretation of the desires of the Philippine people, hoping that
on your return to the United States after your visit to the Philippine
Islands, you will tell the truth as regards the aspirations of the
Philippine people."
In answering, the Secretary talked about the different subjects of
interest, such as the agricultural bank, land titles, etc. He continued:
"It is very gratifying to me, coming from America, and representing the
Government in the position in which I stand, to hear such testimonials
as you have given in regard to the men that America has sent to assist
you in advancing your interests.... America has been careful to send men
in whom confidence can be reposed according to their previous character;
and I want to say to you further, that America has given you here just
as good government as she has given to her people at home.[22] In all
established governments fair and just criticism is welcome and I shall
not therefore bear any spirit that would be resentful of any just
criticism.
"I shall be very glad while I am here to meet those who have the real
welfare of the Islands at heart and the development of this country. I
have many things to do and the time is comparatively short, but I shall
endeavour so to conduct affairs as to be able to give audience to all
law-abiding people who may desire to make any representations to me. I
shall be at convenient periods here where I shall be accessible, and any
communications which are addressed to me personally will receive proper
consideration. Now that states in a general way the object of my visit
and the disposition that I propose to make of my time while here.
General Edwards, who is with me, as you know, is the Chief of the
Insular Bureau. Certainly he, more than any other man in America,
understands conditions in the Philippines, and his whole time, thought
and mind are concentrated upon the problems connected with your
welfare, and he is working all the time to advance your interests. His
familiarity with conditions from the time of America's occupation, the
establishment of civil government, the settling of the various
commercial questions that have arisen from time to time, make him the
most effective champion for the Philippine interests in America, and he
has not hesitated in Congress whenever your interests are at stake, to
stand up and contend for your interests with vehemence that ought to
make him eligible to all option as a Philippine citizen....
"You have there a brilliant representative (Mr. Quezon), who is capable
of presenting your views and aspirations, and of enforcing your wishes
with the most cogent arguments of which your cause is susceptible....
"Now as to immediate independence: we Americans understand by immediate,
right away--to-day. Do you want us to get up and leave you now--to
depart from your country? You would find yourselves surrounded by graver
problems than have hitherto confronted you, if we should do so. I don't
positively assert, but I suggest that you yourselves pause, and think
whether you might not be reaching forth and grasping a fruit which, like
the dead sea fruit, would turn to ashes upon your lips."[23]
It was at Lucena that my husband and I went to Captain and Mrs. S.'s
house for the night. We sat on the piazza by moonlight, among beautiful
orchids, listening to the band playing in the distance, and gossiping. I
was interested in the servant problem, and Mrs. S. had much to tell me
that was new.
"Our native servants would much rather have a pleasant 'thank you' than
a tip," she said; "if a tip is offered, the chances are that it will be
refused, for the boys feel that they would do wrong to accept it. They
are very keen, though, about their _aguinaldos_--presents--at Christmas.
Every native who has done a hand's turn for me during the year will turn
up Christmas Day to wish me a _feliz Pasquas_, and I am expected to give
him a present. My whole day is for my servants and their children, who
seem to multiply at that time. When I asked my _cochero_, 'Lucio, how
many _niños_ have you?' he answered, 'Eleven, señora.' 'But how many
under fourteen, Lucio?' 'Eleven, señora!' He wanted all the presents
that he could get," she laughed.
"But if they don't take tips, do they get good wages?" I asked.
"Not according to American ideas. A Filipino boy will work for small
pay, and stay a long time, in a cheerful home atmosphere. They are good
servants, too," she continued, "if you take the trouble to train them. I
trained a green boy to be a good cook by taking an American cook book
and translating it into Spanish. They have a great reverence for books,
and that boy thought he was very scientific. I've had him many years. We
loaned him money to build his hut near us. He was a year paying it off,
but he paid off every cent. Now he has four children for Christmas
gifts. When I went away on a visit, he asked me to bring him a gold
watch from America. So many years with us gave him that privilege. As we
were gone some time I think he feared we might not return, so he wrote
us a letter." Seeing my interest, she got the letter and read it to me:
"My Dear Sir Capt.:
"In accompany the great respect to you would express at the bottom.
It is a long time since our separation and I'm hardly to forget you
because I have had recognized you as a best master of maine. So I
remit best regard to you and Mrs. and how you were getting along
both, and if you wish to known my condition, why, I'm well as
ever.
"Sir Capt. If you will need me to cook for Mrs. why I'll be with
you as soon as I can find some money.
"Please Sir Capt.
"Will you answer this letter for me?
"Very respectfully
"Yours, PEDRO."
"On returning from the United States I took Pedro back," Mrs. S. went
on, "but I found I needed extra house boys. The first who presented
himself was Antonio, aged seventeen. He was a very serious, hard-working
boy, whose only other service had been a year on an inter-island
merchant ship. I took him at once, for servants from boats are usually
well trained. He turned out well, and in a few months asked if he could
send for his little brother to be second boy to help him. I said he
could, so in due time Crispin smilingly presented himself. No questions
passed as to salary or work. He was installed on any terms that suited
me. A few weeks later, Antonio asked if he could bring his cousin in
just to learn the work, so that he could find a place. I consented, and
in time came Sacarius, gentle and self-effacing, and apparently intent
on learning, and always handy and useful. Again a favour was asked, this
time that the father of Antonio might come as a visitor for a three
weeks' stay. He was very old, would not eat in my house, only sleep in
the servants' room, so again I consented. Father must have already been
on his way, permission taken for granted, for his arrival was almost
simultaneous. I found him sitting in my kitchen in very new and very
clean white clothes, the saintliest old tao, with no teeth, white hair,
and a perpetual smile. He rose and bowed low to me, but he couldn't
speak Spanish or English, so called his son to him to salute me for him
formally. I returned it and made him welcome to my house. He bade them
tell me he had journeyed far to tell me of his gratitude for my goodness
to his family and that he had such _confienza_ in me that he had
instructed his sons never to leave me. The old fellow enjoyed himself
thoroughly, and spent so much of his son's money that Antonio shipped
him home in a week."
"Are they spoiled by living with Americans?"
"Yes, but it shows most in their clothes. Antonio dresses almost as well
as his master," laughed Mrs. S. "But he does not attempt to work in his
best clothes, wearing the regulation _muchacho_ costume without
objection, even though some of the army officers' muchachos are allowed
to dress like fashion plates, and clatter round the polished floors in
their russet shoes. A muchacho will spend his whole month's pay for a
single pair of American russet shoes. They love russet, and the shoe
stores flourish in consequence."
"How about their amusements?" I inquired.
"Whenever they can get off they go to baseball games and the movies. The
little girls wear American-made store dresses now, and great bunches of
ribbon in their hair, white shoes, and silk stockings. Some families who
in the early days had hardly a rag on their backs now own motors. I
don't believe you could force independence on them! The señoritas trip
home from normal school with their high-heeled American pumps, and paint
enough on their faces to qualify for Broadway. The poor children have to
swelter in knitted socks, knitted hoods, and knitted sweaters, just
because they come from America. Filipino children are wonderful,
though--they never cry unless they are ill. They are allowed absurd
liberty, but they don't seem to get spoiled. The Filipina women love
white children intensely; the fair skins seem to charm them, and they
really can't resist kissing a blond child."
We certainly enjoyed our stay at Lucena. Mrs. S.'s house was so clean
and homelike, with its pretty dining room and its broad veranda, and the
big shower bath which felt so refreshing. We went to sleep that night
watching the palm leaves waving in the moonlight.
In the early morning we all got into automobiles again and ran over fine
roads built since the American occupation. We left the China Sea and
crossed the island to the Pacific, climbing a wonderful tropical
mountain, where, by the way, we nearly backed off a precipice because
our brakes refused to work, and we frightened a horse as we whizzed on
to Antimonan. The churches here had towers something like Chinese
pagodas, and the big lamps inside were covered with Mexican silver. All
these island towns have a presidente and a board of governors, called
_consejales_, and each province has a governor.
Manila hemp is one of the principal products of this prosperous
province, and it is chiefly used to make rope. The plant from which this
hemp is made looks very much like a banana plant. The stalk is stripped
and only the tough fibers are used. They employ the cocoanut a good
deal to make oil, which is obtained from the dried meat, called copra.
They had a procession of their products here at Antimonan, which was
very interesting.
The hemp and cigar importations were first carried on by Salem captains
in the fifties. The great American shipping firm in those days was
Russell, Sturgis, Oliphant and Company. The Philippines were out of the
line of travel, however, and few people went there except for trade. In
fact, as far as I know, only one book was written by an American about
the islands before the American occupation.
On the _Rizal_ next morning, when I looked out of my porthole at dawn,
it seemed to me as if I were gazing at an exquisite Turner painting.
Mount Mayon[24] was standing there majestically, superb in its cloak of
silver mist, which changed to fiery red. It is the most beautiful
mountain in the world, more perfect in outline than Fuji. Mrs. Dickinson
was so inspired by its beauty that she wrote a poem, a stanza of which I
give:
"Mount Mayon, in lonely grandeur,
Rises from a sea of flame,
Type of bold, aggressive manhood,
Lifting high a famous name
'Bove the conflict of endeavour
Ranging round its earthly base,
Where heartache and failure ever
Stand hand-clasped face to face."
[Illustration: LANDING AT TOBACO.]
Our landing at Tobaco was made in the most novel way. As the water was
shallow and the _Rizal_ could not get into the dock, three carabaos
hitched to a wagon waded out till only their noses could be seen; we
stepped on to the two-wheeled cart and sat in state on chairs while we
wiggle-waggled through the water to the shore. There we went to the town
hall and had a banquet with many brown men and a few little brown women.
The governor of the province spoke, and General Bandholtz responded in
Spanish for the Secretary, who had gone ahead to close a government coal
mine that was not proving successful. After the banquet we had an
enchanting automobile ride, through quaint villages at the foot of the
great mountain to Albay, where a review of the scouts was held by the
Secretary in the setting sun.
When our party dispersed for dinner L. and I were "farmed out" to the
superintendent of schools, Mr. Calkins. The houses built for Americans
were all of wood with broad piazzas, much like summer cottages at home,
with the hall in which we dined in the center and the bedrooms leading
off it.
So much has been written about the schools and the wonders in education
in the Philippines that I shall not try to enlarge on this interesting
theme, other than to add my tribute to the government and the teachers,
and also to the people who are wise enough to take advantage of the
opportunities offered. Each little Juan and Maria, with their desire to
learn, may soon put to shame little John and Mary, if the latter are not
careful.
"It has not been a fad with them, as we feared it would be," one of the
teachers told me; "they have stuck to it. Many grown-ups in the family
make real sacrifices to keep their juniors in school. My little Filipina
dressmaker is educating all her sister's children and sending her
brother to the law school. At first, too, we feared there would only be
a desire to learn English and the higher branches, but with a very
little urging they are learning domestic science and the trades, showing
that they have a mind for practical matters after all."
I begged her to tell me more about the natives, since she understood the
people so well, and what she said is worth repeating.
"Even in his grief the Filipino is a cheerful creature," she began;
"curiously enough, too, a death in the family is an occasion for general
and prolonged festivities. An orchestra is hired for as many days as the
wealth of the family permits, and a banquet is spread continuously at
which all are welcome, even former enemies of the deceased. Strangers
from the street can come; I've often wondered if the beggars imposed on
this custom, but there are very few of them, and they seem to respect
it. The music drones on day after day. Sometimes only one instrument
will be left, the other players going out to smoke, or eat, or rest; but
they reassemble from time to time and keep it going. There is always
much dancing, for the natives are great dancers and were not the last to
learn the one-step and hesitation. Even in their heel-less slippers they
are very graceful. Of course masses are said, for they firmly believe
that these will take their departed to heaven. With this belief they are
so happy, knowing the dear one is better off in heaven than here, that
Chopin's funeral march is quickly turned into waltz time, and the
_fiesta_ waxes merry!
"In Spanish times each district had its band, which always played at the
church festivals. Each church had its patron saint, and there was
always a saint's day fiesta going on in some district. In the churchyard
booths were spread as at our country fairs. Everything from toys to all
kinds of chance games, of which they are so fond, was sold. The band
played continuously and the people came in crowds. The Americans have
catered to this spirit in the yearly carnival which is given every
February. This carnival is more than a fiesta, though, for it is also an
exhibition of their produce and handiwork. Their hats have always been
famous, as has their needlework, and under American encouragement the
basket-work exhibit has become one of the finest in the world. Some hemp
baskets, woven in colours, look as if they were made of lustrous silk. I
can't say which I like best, the finest of our Alaskan Indian, or
Apache, or Filipino baskets. Their shell work is lovely, too, and their
buttons are coming into the world's market for the first time.
"The Filipinos are also learning at the School of Arts and Trades to
carve their magnificent woods most skilfully, and are making furniture
which will soon be coming to the States. In the early days a few
Chinamen had the monopoly of furniture carving and making. They copied
the very ornate pieces brought to Manila by the Spaniards from Spain
and France in the native mahogany called nara, and in a harder and very
beautiful wood called _acle_, or in a still harder one known as
_camagon_, a native ebony. American women soon began to search the
second-hand stores and pawn shops for the originals, and had them
polished and restored at Bilibid Prison. The expense, considering, was
small. A single-piece-top dining table of solid mahogany is often nearly
eight feet in diameter and two or three inches thick."
Another of the teachers told me something of her experiences in the
early days, when she went out with her father, who was one of the first
American army officers there.
"When we landed we lived in an old Spanish palace," she said, "which of
course we proceeded to clean. That was the first thing all Americans did
on landing. We took eleven army dump-cart loads from the palace of every
kind of dirt conceivable. Then we began washing windows and mirrors and
lamps, which I am sure had never been touched with water before. The
servants were so amazed that they were of very little use. They were
mostly Chinese, and had never seen white women work before. The sight of
such energy staggered them. Just when we got things running smoothly,
father was called home, and our cleaned house fell to his successor's
wife, who wept and said she had never been put in such a dirty place.
"It was after this that my real adventures began. Father McKimmon was
opening public schools, and wanted English taught. So he went among the
army girls and just begged us to give up a few of our good times and do
some of this work. I didn't see how I could teach people when I didn't
know their language, but he explained how simple it would be, and we
could learn Spanish at the same time.
"It was fun to work with the Spanish nuns. They were so interested in
us, and their quaint, old-fashioned methods with the children amused me
constantly. Arms were always folded when they rose to recite, and it was
always 'Servidor de usted'--at your service--before they could sit down.
The nuns soon became pupils of ours, too. When the Spanish prisoners
liberated by our men from the Filipinos were brought to Manila they were
quartered in our school for a hospital. I never saw such starved wrecks.
Many of them--young men--had no teeth left.
"More Americans were arriving on every transport, and a most delightful
society was forming of army and navy people, government officials, and
naval officers of every nation, in addition to the original Spanish
population and the small colonies of many countries. There were parties
of all kinds, and as we trained our cooks into our own ways we ventured
on dinner parties. I shall never forget the first dinner I went to that
was cooked in Spanish style. There was every kind of wine I ever heard
of, but no water. I wanted some, but it was not to be had. My host
apologized for not having provided any, but no one dared drink the city
supply. We sat down to table at nine and rose at twelve, and when the
men joined us at one they were all much amazed that I made the move to
go home.
"I left Manila to visit my brother in the provinces. Traveling in those
days was very different from what it is now. After leaving the
Manila-Dagupan Railroad there were no motors to go up the mountain;
instead of that, I rode an ancient American horse till I was tired and
burning with the sun. Then my brother put me in a bull cart, and I sat
on the floor of that till the sun was preferable to the bumping. I
arrived at four in the afternoon and was put down in an empty room with
my trunk and a packing box. Being a good army girl, that packing box
had all the elements of comfort, but first there was cleaning to be
done. My brother was the commanding officer in that town, his house
being at the corner of the Plaza, and an outpost. So he sent me a police
party--that is, ten native prisoners and an American sentry; they were
armed with brooms and buckets. I said, 'Sentry, this room is very dirty.
The Captain sent these men here to clean it for me.' 'Yes, mam,' said
the sentry. 'Well,' I told him, 'I want the ceiling cleaned first, even
the corners!' He turned to his gentle prisoners with 'Here, _hombres_,
you shinny up that pole and _limpia_ those corners!' He didn't know much
Spanish, but limpia means clean, and is the one essential word. I soon
unpacked my box and turned it into an organdie-draped dressing table,
after out of it had come all that made the room livable.
"That night I was sleeping the sleep of the very tired when I was
awakened by a blood-curdling shout, a gun was thrown to the floor, and a
man's voice yelled for help. I simply froze--I couldn't move hand or
foot. The voice was in the outpost guard room, just under my own. Of
course, I was sure the whole guard was overpowered and being boloed. I
waited for them to come to me as I lay there. Then I heard a man's
voice call from an upstairs window, 'What's the matter down there?' and
the answer, 'Number Four had a nightmare, sir--thought there was a goat
on his bunk.' Just as I was going to sleep again I threw out my hand in
my restlessness, and to my horror, clasped it round a cold, shiny
boa-constrictor. Every large house has one in the garret to keep down
the rats. This time I gave the scream and sprang out of bed. But no
snake was to be found, and I decided it must have been the bed post. But
what a night that was!"
We reëmbarked at Legaspi and sailed on to the island of Samar, which is
in the typhoon belt. Catbalogan is a town which has been visited by very
severe typhoons and terrible plagues, but by very few people. It is a
small place, far away and forgotten, but the island of Samar is where
the massacre of the Ninth Infantry occurred--the massacre at Balangiga
by the natives in 1902. There were triumphal arches of bamboo and
flowers, and speeches in the town hall, Governor Forbes speaking in both
English and Spanish. Afterward eight small boys and girls dressed in
red, white and blue danced for us enchantingly the Charcca and the Jota,
clicking their little heels and snapping their little fingers in true
Spanish style. Delicious sweetmeats were offered on the veranda, real
native dishes, and we drank cocoanut milk and ate cocoanut candy,
preserves, nuts and cakes. Two half-Chinese girls who spoke English took
very good care of us.
As we left we looked out over the sea to the setting sun and watched a
lonely fisherman standing on a rock throwing his net.
Next morning from the _Rizal_, we saw across a stretch of calm water the
blue ranges of the mountains of Bohol. Native bancas glided silently
about, and a straw-sailed boat drifted idly round the point, where the
picturesque gray walls of the oldest Spanish fort in the Philippines
stood guard. Its sentinel houses at the corners were all moss grown, and
pretty pink flowers were breaking out of the crevices of the rocks.
We landed at Cebu, which is the oldest town in the Islands, and passed
down a street lined with ancient houses whose second stories arcaded the
sidewalk. They were all in good condition, in spite of their age, for
they were built of the wonderful hard woods that last forever. In fact,
Cebu has the look of a new and prosperous place, for there have been
fires which burnt up many of the ramshackle houses and gave a chance to
widen the streets and replace the old structures with permanent looking
buildings. The American government has done wonders in deepening the
harbour and building a sea wall, behind which concrete warehouses are
going up.
There was a scramble to a review near the barracks, then another
scramble to a reception at the house of the colonel commanding--a very
nice but hot occasion--and then still another scramble to the dedication
of a really excellent schoolhouse.
A young priest took us to see the famous idol, the small black infant
Christ. We went to the convent of the Dominicans near the church, and
passed through its pretty, unkempt court, up a staircase with treads and
handrail richly carved in a wood which was hard as iron, and black with
age. It was handsome work, such as we had been looking for and hadn't
seen before. In the sacristy, too, and the robing room, there were
screens and paneling with richly detailed carvings. Passing down the
galleries of the convent, where we could see some of the friars at work,
we entered the special chapel where this holy image is kept. Several
doors were taken off a rather gaudily gilded altar, until at last the
little figure was revealed. Its back was toward the room and it had to
be carefully turned--a small, brown, wooden doll, all dressed in cloth
of gold, and bejeweled like the Bambino of Rome. It is considered a most
sacred and wonderful heaven-sent idol.[25]
As we had heard speeches by Filipinos and head hunters, I was curious to
know what the Chinese would have to say, and that night there was an
opportunity to find out, for we were invited to a dinner given by the
Chinese merchants. I quote from the speech made by Mr. Alfonso Zarata Sy
Cip, which was specially interesting:
"The Chinese have traded with these Islands since long before Confucius
and Mencius," said Mr. Sy Cip; "and for centuries we have been coming
here and assimilating with the Filipinos, and to-day we are deeply
interested in the welfare of the country. The Chinese have been called a
nation of traders, the Jews of the East, but we are more than traders.
We are labourers, artisans, farmers, manufacturers, and producers.
"A very large percentage of the growth and development of the commerce
and material interests of the Islands is due to the efforts of our
countrymen.
"The infusion of Chinese blood has strengthened and improved the
Filipino people.
"Chinese labour is recognized all over the world as the best cheap
labour in existence. Since American occupation of these Islands you have
excluded our labour from entering. Why? Not for the reason that it would
tend to lower the standard of living among Filipino labourers, because
the standard of living among Chinese labourers in the Philippines is
higher than among the Filipino labourers. Hence the introduction of
Chinese labourers would tend rather to improve conditions in this
regard. You do not exclude him for the reason that he works for lower
wages than the labourers of the country, because, on the contrary, the
Chinese labourer in the Philippines receives higher wages than the
native labourer, hence the introduction of Chinese labourers would tend
rather to improve the condition of the native labourers as far as wages
are concerned. You do not exclude him for the reason that he will not
become assimilated with the natives of the country, because centuries of
experience have shown that Filipinos and Chinese do assimilate and
readily amalgamate, and the result, as I have already said, is an
improvement of the Filipino people. If you are excluding Chinese
labourers from the Philippines because of political reasons then I
confess such reasons, if they exist, have been carefully guarded as
secrets from the public.
"Lack of room is not a reason for excluding Chinese labourers, nor is
lack of need for their services. In the great island of Mindanao alone
it is doubtful if five per cent of the tillable land is under
cultivation, and in other places it is the same. A large part of the
rice consumed in these Islands is imported from other countries, yet we
have here the finest tropical climate in the world and the most
productive soil. Let a sufficient number of Chinese labourers come into
the Philippines and we will guarantee that in ten years we will be
sending rice to the gates of Pekin and Tokyo."
Toward night we sailed on the _Rizal_ from Cebu for the land of the
Moros. Out in the Sulu Sea, one felt very near heaven when the sky
turned hazy gray in the afterglow, and the distant islands mauve, only
their peaks flaming like volcanoes from the hidden sun. Then the big
stars came out, like Japanese lanterns, and left a comet-like trail
upon the dancing waters.
From their holes below the cabin boys, Ah Sing and Sing Song, would pop
out like slim white mice with their long black pigtails, with little cot
beds tucked under their arms which they would place in rows upon the
deck. Ah Sing would say, "Cheih ko koe" (that will do), and Sing Song
would answer, "Hsiao hsin" (be careful). Later, when the moon rose out
of the sea and the Southern Cross appeared on the horizon, shadowy forms
glided silently up the companionway. But the silence did not last. Some
one would call to Sing Song in pidgin English:
"Boy! go catchy whiskey, Tansan; top side, talky man little more fat!"
And some one else would say to Ah Sing,
"You fool boy, you catchy me one bath."
Ah Sing seemed to understand. He would wag his head and answer, "You
good man, no talky all the time, makey me sick." And he would disappear.
At sight of a tall, genial man, the people in their cots would sing out,
"Doctor Heiser's a friend of mine, a friend of mine, a friend of mine,"
etc. American judges, and Filipino congressmen and generals were of the
company. Occasionally a whisper, very often a giggle, sometimes a
clinking of glasses, and good night kisses, were heard, and then the
sand man closed our eyes.
[Illustration: A MORO _DATO_ AND HIS WIFE, WITH A RETINUE OF
ATTENDANTS.]