CROSSING THE SIERRA MADRES.
She remained at Ilagan until the middle of June, when it began to be
rumored that the Americans were preparing to invade the Cagayan valley,
not only soldiers from the south but with the "mosquito fleet" coming
up the river from its mouth at the extreme northern end of the island
of Luzon. Nobody in the city seemed to know just where Aguinaldo had
gone. Part of his advance guard had arrived in the city some three
months before, but he had not come, and his soldiers had soon departed
for the southeast, following the valley of the Pinacanalan river.
Tired of her surroundings and impatient to join Aguinaldo, Marie
departed by the same route that his soldiers had taken. From an
old native living all alone in a bamboo shack on the bank of the Rio
Masagan river, which empties into the Pinacanalan about eighteen miles
southeast of Ilagan, she learned that Aguinaldo and his troops had
started up the valley of the Masagan. This stream rises high up near
the summit of the Sierra Madre mountains which parallel the eastern
coast of northern Luzon for nearly five hundred miles, and are inland
from the coast from ten to thirty miles.
Marie had with her three trusted natives from Ilagan. She did not want
to spend another night alone in the mountains. After proceeding up
the Masagan for thirty-five miles to a place where its valley narrows
itself to a gorge, its bed was so strewn with huge boulders that it
became impossible to travel any longer on horseback; therefore, one
of the natives was sent back with the horses, and Marie and the two
others continued the ascent on foot, taking with them such equipment
and provisions as they could conveniently carry.
After many hardships they succeeded in crossing the range in safety
and soon found themselves descending the other side. A Filipino
scouting party was met at the evening of the first day's tramp down
the Pacific slope. They were well supplied with food--thing Marie and
her companions greatly needed. From them it was learned that Aguinaldo
and his body guard and quite a complement of Filipino soldiers were
secreted at the little town of Palanan on a small stream by the same
name, about ten miles back from the coast and lying directly east
of them on the journey which they were pursuing. This party escorted
them to Filipino headquarters, which they reached July 10, 1900.
Marie was cordially welcomed by Aguinaldo, who restored her to a
position on his staff and secured from her the identical information
which he desired relative to the movement of the American troops, and
the very information, strange to say, which led to his own discovery
and capture by General Funston of the American forces in March of
the following year.
Aguinaldo learned from Marie that from the Filipinos' standpoint, the
war around Manila had been a dismal failure. He decided, therefore,
to send one of his trusted generals south by practically the same
route over which Marie had come, with information to the Filipino
troops east and south of Manila to move all their available forces
north with the quickest possible despatch and to place them under his
immediate command so that he might not only render himself immune from
capture, but take the initiative and oppose the American campaign in
the valley of the Cagayan river.
In December, 1900, about three months before his capture by General
Funston, Aguinaldo, having learned that the Americans were making their
way in great numbers into the valley of the Cagayan, asked Marie to
take up duty as a spy again; to recross the Sierra Madre mountains;
visit the American lines; ascertain their number of soldiers on duty
in the valley on the opposite side of the mountains and then to bring
this information to him, so that when reinforcements should arrive
he would know better how to undertake the campaign.
To this, Marie willingly assented, but she insisted that she could
not make the trip alone over the rugged Sierra Madre mountains;
that she had nearly famished crossing them the first time. Aguinaldo
therefor fitted out a little expedition consisting of eight Filipinos,
in addition to Marie, and a pack-train of fourteen ponies to accompany
her over the divide. Nine of the animals were for riding purposes;
the other five were to pack the supplies,--three of them for the
outward trip, two for the incoming. In addition to the rice which
they took along, they were instructed to forage as much as possible.
On December 9, the party started out on their perilous undertaking. A
point far up on the mountain slope, near a refreshing mineral spring,
having been reached on December 17, the party halted and established
a sub-base for their return trip. It was evident to them that they
had struck the wrong trail and were going to be compelled to send
Marie back through a different gorge from the one by which she and
her associates had come over a few months before.
Here the party divided into two relays--one to accompany Marie close
to the top of the mountains, the other to remain where it was until
her guides returned. At this temporary base three Filipinos and two
pack-horses were left. The Filipinos thus left behind were instructed
to hunt and trap all they could till their comrades returned.
The on-going squad, consisting of Marie and five native soldiers, took
with them their six riding ponies and three of the pack-horses. They
departed from their comrades early in the morning, December 18. By
night of the second day they had gotten so near the crest they could
plainly discern that in one long march Marie could cross the divide
and get a safe distance down the slope on the opposite side. Coming to
an old stone church they dismounted and established themselves for the
night. It was December 19,--the anniversary of Lawton's death. Marie
remarked about it.
This old church had partly fallen down. Vines and mosses had so
interlaced themselves in climbing over its rocky walls and across its
openings that they had to be cut away by the unwelcome intruders before
they could gain an entrance. The stone cross on the front gable was
still in place; but the old mahogany door had long since been torn
from its hinges by the mountain storms, and it lay in a state of
decay on the ground. An earthquake had destroyed part of the roof,
and had caused the west wall to become inclined and to crumble.
Within, one end of the old altar was still found to be intact. The
priest's pulpit chair had become ivy-mantled, and one handle had rotted
from its fastenings and had fallen to the floor. Statues of the Saints
had pitched from their moorings in the alcoves along the walls and were
lying face-downward or standing on their heads amid the debris below.
What hands had built this old church, none could tell. It seemed
certain that no human being had entered it for over a century. The
mountain tribes who had lifted into place the huge chalk stones
that composed its massive walls, under the devout leadership of some
pious monk, for a place of worship, had long since perished from the
earth. The mountain game which rendered possible their habitation in
this altitude had vanished. Everything and everybody had evidently
given way before some fierce invasion of one of their southern tribes.
Marie was busy cleaning off the trash from the massive rock that lay
at the entrance to the door-way. "1765," said she; "come, see the
date chiseled in the rock! I wonder what has become of the tribe that
built it?"
A soldier who had made his entrance by one of the window openings,
was busily engaged in prying up a huge flat stone just back of the
altar. He had it loosened; he called for help to remove it. When the
stone had been overturned and had fallen back onto its aged neighbors,
some soft damp earth beneath it was slowly scraped away.
"Listen!" said the native who on bended knees was doing the
sacrilegious work, "Did you hear that grating noise?"
He scraped again with his bolo turned edgewise, and gripping the back
of it firmly with both hands. "Do you hear it?" said he. "It's here!"
In a few minutes a metallic box was pried out of the earth wherein
it had lain unmolested for many years.
"Can you read the inscription on it?" asked Marie.
Carefully the sediment and rust shales were removed. The grooves in
the letters and figures of the inscription were carefully cleaned
out with a knife. It read
FATHER
JUADANEZ
1768.
"The old father has been dead a long time," said the fellow who was
doing the details of the work.
"I wonder," said Marie, "if we really ought to disturb his bones."
"Do you suppose they put any valuables in the little chest when they
sealed it up?" asked another.
"It has always been customary to put in the sacred urn," said Marie.
"Cut it open!" commanded a corporal.
"I can't," said the robber; "we'll have to build a fire and melt
it open."
This they did; and in it they found the dust of his bones and a number
of valuables including the Patricia's gold-lined cup which Marie took
and hung on her belt.
That night a terrible storm swept over the mountains. Marie and her
companions crept into the old church for refuge. The ponies had been
given some rice and then set free to forage as best they could. They
were stampeded by the violence of the wind and rain.
The morning broke cool and clear. Everybody was astir at day-break. The
ponies were gone, but plenty of rice remained. Marie soon saw a way
out of the difficulty. She left three of her men at the old church to
await the return of the two who were to accompany her until she reached
some plan for speedy descent on the opposite side of the mountains.
The advance party started out early on foot, taking with them such
a supply of rice and bananas as they could carry. Only three miles
farther up they entered a canon whose rocky walls, at places almost
perpendicular and seeming to form pillars for the sky, were so close
together at their base that it would have been impossible to have used
the ponies for travel, even though they had not retreated in the storm.
Good progress was made, and by sun-down, December 20, they had reached
the upper rivulets of what afterwards proved to be the north fork of
the Rio Masagan, instead of the south fork which she had previously
followed. The beautiful valleys below them were plainly visible as
the sun sank to rest over the distant hills. A small native village
could be seen on the bank of the stream a few miles ahead. The party
bivouacked for the night.
Early the next morning, after a light lunch of cold rice, Marie was
off on her important mission.
Her two escorts made their way back to the old church, where after
another night's rest, the five undertook their return journey to
the sub-base at the spring far down the mountain side. When they
reached this camp they found their ponies all returned to it; and
their comrades, thinking they had all been captured or slain by the
Americans, were hastily preparing to retreat. The entire party, except
Marie, got back to Aguinaldo's camp at Palanan, on Christmas Day.
Marie, was therefore, left to arrange for her own return, after her
spy work had been completed. She contemplated securing help from
the natives at Ilagan, among whom she had previously lived for a
few months.