OSMEÑA, THE SPEAKER OF THE FIRST ASSEMBLY.OSMEÑA, THE SPEAKER OF THE FIRST ASSEMBLY.
As may be imagined, a body of men which can pass such bills is quite capable of blocking the sane legislation which comes to them for approval, and unfortunately they have the power to do this. The way in which the slavery question was handled illustrates their methods.
Slavery was known to exist in the Islands, and to take two forms,—actual slavery, where one person was sold by another, and a sort of semi-slavery, or peonage, where a man sold his services for debt.
The peon was given his keep, but the interest on his debt was added faster than he could earn. He was really a slave, except that he had sold himself rather than been sold by another. But his debts might be bought and sold, so that it amounted to the same thing in the end. Interest was sometimes as high as ten per cent a month, while fifty cents a month was allowed for his services. Worcester in his book tells of a man who borrowed $1.25, which he and hiswife and children worked several years in the effort to repay; but by that time the amount had become $37.50!
Spain had nominally abolished slavery long before, but it had continued in force in both the Christian and non-Christian provinces. The legislators themselves held peons. The law of Congress creating the Philippine Government prohibited slavery, but there are no penalties attached, so it could not be enforced.
The Filipinos denied that slavery existed in the Islands. Worcester made a careful investigation, and an exhaustive report on both slavery and peonage. All but a few copies of this report were burned by a Filipino official. It was a subject which neither the Filipino politician nor their self-styled friends the anti-imperialists wished to see discussed in print. The Manila papers had been absolutely silent on the subject, and even the anti-slavery legislation which was finally forced through, after having been tabled again and again without so much as the briefest formality of discussion, passed unnoticed. It was a sore subject, and the Filipino method of treating a sore subject is not to heal it, but to refrain from discussing it.
There is no question but we have given theFilipinos too much power for their own good. They now, under the Democratic Administration, have five members in the Commission, to America's four. They have to-day much power—only colonies such as Canada and Australia have more, while Egypt has been given less in a generation than the Filipinos have received in ten years.
The present governor, Francis Burton Harrison, has been severely criticized. His party was pledged to a rapid Filipinization which has proved disastrous, for it was devised by men wholly ignorant of the situation. The destruction of the wonderful civil service system so carefully built up in the early days as an object lesson to Spanish-bred politicians, is only one of many changes which have been brought about.
We have certainly lost prestige in the Islands under the Democratic Administration. Filipinos no longer remove their hats during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner on the Luneta, so Governor Harrison finally tried to discontinue the playing of the national anthem. The American community would not stand this, however, so it was resumed. In many other ways the Filipinos have become "cocky." This of course does not apply to the tao, who plods along regardless of politics.
A friend wrote me recently, "I don't think I could give you a more accurate idea of what most Americans and British, and even intelligent natives, think of this Democratic administration than to repeat a conversation I overheard in the Fort McKinley cars one morning between two coloured American soldiers. They began by laughing at Harrison's 'give them what they want' speech, and speaking of the Filipinos as 'spoiled children.' 'Well,' said one dusky brave, 'we have one more year of this rotten administration, then, thank Gawd, we'll have a white man's government!'"
Professor Thomas Lindsey Blayney writes in one of the magazines: "I talked with business men, native and foreign educators, clergymen, army and navy officers, editors American and British, and many Filipinos of undoubted patriotism and intelligence, and I do not hesitate to assure you that the demoralizing tendency of the policies of the present American administration in the Islands is deserving of the widest publicity." The situation, he says, "is bidding fair to become a national disgrace if we allow politics and sentiment to take the place of reason and justice." He goes on to say, "There is no phenomenon of our national life more passingstrange than that which induces many of our good people to accept the statements of paid emissaries of the Filipino junto, or some of our new and inexperienced officials at Manila, rather than those of our fellow countrymen of long administrative experience in the Islands.... The loss of men like Governor Forbes, Mr. Worcester, Dr. Heiser, and others, is looked upon as a distinct setback in the development of better and more stable institutions in the entire Orient in the interest of humanity as a whole."
All of which only bears out what Lord Cromer told Mr. Forbes—"If your personnel employed in the administration of dependencies at a distance becomes subject to change with changing political parties, you are doomed to failure in your effort to govern countries overseas."
There has recently been a great financial depression in the Islands, due partly to hoarding against threatened independence, and partly to the difficulty the new Filipino officials of the Bureau of Internal Revenue find in collecting the usual amount. A slump in real estate followed quickly upon the news that we might shortly leave the Islands. Rinderpest, the cattle plague which had worked such havoc and which had finally been conquered after tremendous expenditure of money and energy, broke out againimmediately upon the substitution of Filipinos for white men in the service. Some time the good people at home will learn that giving a child candy because it cries for candy is not always the best thing for the child. The Filipinos are in many ways children, delightful ones, with charming manners, but needing a firm and even rule till they come of age and take over their own affairs. Most Filipinos of intelligence realize this. In fact, they have of late been rushing in petitions signed by their best and most influential citizens urging the retention of the Islands in their present standing.
What the Filipino wishes for himself depends upon the man. Only one in ten, among the civilized tribes, knows anything about the discussion of independence. The taos would like independence if they believe it to be what their politicians have told them—freedom to do as they please, and exemption from taxes. Otherwise they are not interested.
When the Jones bill was being discussed a Moro elevator boy at the War Department in Washington was asked, "If the Filipinos are given their independence, how will you feel?" "I am an American now," he answered, "but if that happen—I go back, and with the Moros fight the Filipinos!"
Most people fail to realize that the Islands are no financial burden to this country. They are, and have always been, wholly self-supporting. Their revenues pay their bills, and their taxes, incidentally, are the lowest in the civilized world. We keep soldiers there but only the cost of their transportation is extra.
Our rule in the Philippines has been the greatest of all paradoxes, a benevolent despotism working ardently for its own destruction. This is very unusual, and rather fine. We ought to be proud of what we have done, and very anxious to see the work well finished. Good men have given their lives for it, and few of those who lived have come out after years of thankless toil in a tropical land, with as much as they had when they went into the service. We owe it to them and to our helpless wards, as well as to our national honour, to see the thing through.
T
he sanitary conditions which existed in the Islands twenty odd years ago would seem to us appalling, but perhaps they were no worse than those of some other tropical countries at that time. Even the most progressive colonizers, like the English, had given up trying radical reforms, contenting themselves with making passably healthful conditions, especially for the European part of the towns. The combination of climate and native inertia seemed to them one which it was difficult and almost hopeless to combat. So it remained for us to prove that the thing could be done—that a tropical country could be made sanitary and hygienic for all its inhabitants, whether they were white or brown or yellow, and whether they wanted it made so or not. If we had done nothing else for our restless dependency, that achievement would be a sufficient crown of glory.
Manila was then, as it still is, the most highly civilized spot in the Islands. As I have said,much of the walled city was built of stone and plaster, but many of the natives in the suburbs lived in one-room houses made of wood and raised on stilts. No provision whatever was made for drainage or for the removal of garbage. Each house was a law unto itself and very often an offense unto its neighbours.
A CarabaoA Carabao
A large part of the city drained, directly or indirectly, into the Pasig River. Here, also, the carabao, which is not a fastidious animal, went for his mud baths, and the women washed their clothes. This river furnished drinking water for all who lived near enough to share the privilege. It was said to have a flavour like the Ganges, which they sorely missed later on when a purer supply was substituted.
The medieval wall, which allowed for many damp, unhealthy corners, interfered with municipal ventilation. No cleansing winds can sweep through a city whose every street ends in a high wall. Outside was a stagnant moat which made a convenient breeding place for the industrious mosquito.
The local market used to be a community dwelling for all the vendors, who lived there, reveling in their filth. Their children were born there, also their dogs, pigs, cats, and chickens. It was so vile smelling that no American daredgo into it. Never being cleaned, it was the center from which disease was spread to the city.
These markets were the first places to be cleaned by the Americans. The first step was always to burn up the entire shed, and then build an iron and concrete structure, which could be washed down every night with a hose. Only the night watchman was allowed to live there.
This is only typical of changes made in every department, from market to school, from custom house to palace. To tell a long story very shortly, gaps have been opened in the city walls to let in the air, the moat has been filled in with soil dredged from the bay to make a field for sports, nearby marshes have been reclaimed and old wells filled up, while a sewerage system and a method of collecting refuse have of course been established. The new water system has cut the death rate from water-borne diseases in half. To stop an epidemic whole districts of huts which could not be fumigated were burned and others were sprayed with strong disinfectants by fire engines. Slowly the people are being taught the rules of hygiene. The new and up-to-date medical school is turning out very good doctors, and the school of nursing, most excellent nurses, who are gentle, cheerful and dainty.
The modern hospitals were at first regardedwith suspicion by the natives, who went with the greatest reluctance for treatment. But to-day the difficulty is to keep them out. A toothache is excuse enough for a week's sojourn with free board. The native doctor often is a skilful grafter, and has to be watched, otherwise he may pass in all his poor relations, more to give them food and rest than for illness. A friend was much annoyed while sick in a Manila hospital by some Filipina girls in pink and lilac hospital gowns who were romping through the corridors. Her nurse explained that they were passed in by the native doctor. One of these physicians had every bed in his ward filled with patients who were not ill but just enjoying themselves. Some of these doctors abuse their authority in other ways. One of them, it was discovered, used to go to San Lazaro, the hospital for contagious diseases, and take friends who were detained there with leprosy to ride in public vehicles.
But aside from occasional abuses by natives, the work which has been done for the public health in Manila is an example of what has been accomplished elsewhere. In many of the provincial towns the introduction of artesian wells has brought the death rate tumbling down to half its former size. The work was carriedon under disadvantages at first, for it was the butt of much ridicule and abuse—the former from abroad, the latter from the native press. Medical authorities in other parts of the Far East laughed at our efforts to create better conditions for the Filipinos, and told us that Orientals were incapable of sanitary reforms. Before long, these same men were seeking to learn by what magic we had accomplished what they had hardly dared even attempt, and were sending delegates to Manila to study our methods.[17]
When Americans went there they found the Filipinos a race of semi-invalids. Those who had managed to survive the various scourges which were constantly sweeping the Islands were often infected with hookworm or similar parasites which sapped their vitality. Many of them were tubercular, and most of them were under-fed. The laziness which made several Filipino workmen equal to one American was much of it due to actual physical weakness. As a people, they are showing a marked improvement in energy and activity. It was from changes of this sort that the would-be benevolent anti-imperialists laboured to save them.
Of course, a great deal remains for us to do. Half the babies still die before they are a year old. Only a beginning has been made in stamping out tuberculosis. The people have not yet been educated out of that fatalism which makes them prefer acceptance of evil to fighting it. But as fast as they learn English they come under our educative influence more and more.
Dr. Richard P. Strong, whom we knew when we were in the Islands and who is now at the Harvard Medical School lecturing on tropical diseases, has done many notable things in various parts of the world. We all know about his wonderful work in the northern part of China, when the pneumonic plague[18]was raging there a few years ago, and still later his heroism among the typhus-stricken soldiers of Serbia. But we do not all know that, among other things, he has discovered a cure for a dreadful skin disease called yaws, which has been prevalent in the Philippines. A doctor in Bontoc cured a case with a single injection of salvarsan. The"case" was so delighted that he escaped from the hospital before a second injection could be given him, rushed home to his native village, and returned a day or so later with a dozen or more of his neighbours who were suffering from the same trouble.
We were fortunate in traveling through the Islands with Dr. Heiser, who had entire control of the health conditions there for many years—in fact, until the Democratic administration. To him is largely due the practical disappearance of smallpox from the Philippines. When the Americans took over the country there were sometimes over fifty thousand deaths a year from this one disease. The change is the direct result of the ten million vaccinations which were performed by American officials. An effort was made to entrust the vaccinating to Filipino officials, but epidemics kept breaking out, and it was discovered that their work was being done chiefly on paper.
In a recent letter a friend writes, "The other day one of our servants, Crispin, was ill. I tried to get him to go to the hospital, but he insisted he was not sick. I did not enjoy having him wait on the table, for I thought he had measles. So I took him to the hospital myself and told him to do what the doctor said. WhenI returned home a telephone call summoned us to the hospital to be vaccinated at once, for Crispin had the smallpox! They sent him to San Lazaro, where he had a good time, and came home smiling, while we spent a miserable ten days waiting to see what was going to happen to us. The nativesaindadoscame promptly to disinfect, but all they did was to put a bucket of something in the center of the room. I soon saw that they were not going to be thorough, so after ten minutes, just as they were going away, I called them back and telephoned to the board of health, asking if no American sanitary officer was coming. They said no, that Filipinos had been put in all the white men's places. So I went to work myself, burning bedding, clothes and hangings, and opening every trunk and closet. It was a revelation to those two little natives, who thought they had done enough before."
Apparently the natives had the same aversion to the preventive method of vaccination that some of our own countryfolk have, for Dr. Heiser writes of the early work in the field: "Formerly ... the lives of the vaccinators were seriously threatened by persons who refused to be vaccinated. However, after much persuasion, a considerable number of the inhabitants were vaccinated. Shortly afterwards smallpox was introduced and the death rate among the unvaccinated became alarming; the people themselves then noted that in spite of the fact that the vaccinated persons frequently came in constant contact with the disease they did not contract it, while the unvaccinated died in large numbers. This led to urgent request being made for vaccination and the vaccinators who previously found their lives in constant danger were welcomed."
But perhaps Dr. Heiser's greatest work has been done in freeing the Islands of the worst-feared disease of all times and nations—leprosy. I was walking along the street with him one day when he noticed the swollen ear lobes of a man near by. It was one of the first symptoms of leprosy. He stopped and spoke to the man and walked with him to the hospital. The disease is not really so much to be feared as people think, for it is seldom inherited and is not easily contagious.
We had planned to go to Culion, the beautiful island where thousands of lepers have been taken to live or to die, and where they have every care and comfort that science and unselfish devotion can give them. Unfortunately for us, the Secretary of War was obliged to cutthe trip short, owing to official business in Manila, so we did not go there. We heard so much about the place that this was a real disappointment.
The island is a day's sail from Manila. It is well forested, and has hills and fertile valleys and a fine harbour. The more important buildings of the town which the authorities knew would be needed by the thousands of lepers then at large, were built from the foundations entirely of concrete, for sanitary reasons and economy. Besides hundreds of houses, one finds there to-day a theater, a town hall, a school, dining halls, hospitals, stores, docks and warehouses. Water, lighting and sewerage systems were also constructed, and a separate settlement was built for the non-leprous employees.
Culion is really a leper's heaven. The people have perfect freedom, and live normal lives, farming or fishing when they are able, carrying on their own government, having their own police force, playing in the band if they are musical, giving theatrical performances. They have social distinctions, too—those better born take the place denied them in the outer world because of their affliction. Here they are again Somebody.
When Americans took possession of the Islands there were six thousand lepers at large. Two things evidently had to be done—first, prevent a further spread of the disease; and second, cure those who already had it, if this were possible.
Segregation of all known cases, as fast as accommodations could be provided for them, was the immediate necessity. The colony at Culion was opened in 1906 with five hundred patients. These went reluctantly to their new abode, but once settled there, found it so much to their liking that they wrote home enthusiastically, and after that the authorities had no difficulty in persuading others to go. Indeed, the plight of these poor outcasts had been pitiful enough. They were so neglected that in one of the larger cities they had been known to go into the markets and handle the produce, as a protest against their treatment.
More than eight thousand have been transferred to Culion in all, and to-day every known leper in the Philippines is there. New cases are still occasionally found, but even the worst provinces are now practically free from the historic scourge. It was that remarkable man, Dr. Heiser, who not only organized and carried out this great undertaking, but who himself saw to the smallest details. Many times he is knownto have carried the loathsome patients in his own arms.
The second problem, that of finding a cure, was not so easily solved. But it has been found, and our nation had the credit of finding it—"the first definite cure ever established," Dr. Heiser says. Two methods were tried out very carefully, both with some success. The first was the x-ray, which brought a marked improvement in most of the cases where it was used, and an apparent cure in one case. The other method was the use of chaulmoogra oil. This remedy had been known and used in the Far East for some time, but it could rarely be given long enough to produce much effect, because it was so unpleasant to swallow. Our doctors, however, devised ways of injecting it, after mixing it with resorcin and camphorated oil, so that there were no ill effects. Already several cures have resulted.
Ten years ago there were forty thousand users of opium in the Islands. In five years that number was reduced ninety-five per cent, and most of those still addicted to the drug are Chinese. In the last few years, moreover, cholera and bubonic plague have been practically wiped out, but, of course, a few other tropical diseases still exist.
The Philippine Assembly recently conceived the brilliant idea of cutting down expenses by halving the health appropriation. Dr. Heiser got permission to speak before them, but instead of talking a few minutes, as they expected, he spoke for three days. He told them that if they did not give him the money he needed for the work, he would be forced to economize by setting free the criminally insane, who, he promised, should be given tags stating that they had been set free by order of the Assembly. Also, he said, he would have to send back many of the lepers to their friends. It proved to be the way to deal with the child-like legislators, who in the end gave him what he wanted. Since that, however, he has resigned, and his loss will be sadly felt. Indeed, there has already been an outbreak of cholera since he left.
Regenerative work among the Filipinos has by no means been confined to their bodies, however, for besides the educational advance that has been made in their schools, which I have mentioned elsewhere, their prisons have become sources of light instead of darkness. It is true that penology in the Philippines has gone ahead with great strides.
In Bontoc, for instance, there is a prison which the commissioner in charge of the province proudly called his "university." Its inmates are men of the mountains. In the old days they would have been sent to Bilibid prison in Manila, where few of them lived over two years. A longer term meant practically a death sentence. This provincial jail is situated in the high and healthy capital of the province, and is kept clean and sanitary by the prisoners themselves. The men are well fed and cared for, and they are taught trades, and made to work at them, too, so that they learn industry along with technical skill.
Bilibid prison is a huge institution. It occupies several acres of land in the heart of the city of Manila, its buildings radiating from a common center, so that the guard in the high tower at the hub can overlook anything that occurs. High walls surround the whole, patrolled by watchful guards and mounted with gatling guns. It is an extraordinary institution, inherited from Spanish rule, but, like everything else, completely changed since then. The wives of men committed there were considered widowed in those days, since so few survived a long term, and were free to marry again. There has been some confusion of late years, because most of the prisoners not only come out alive, but healthier than when they went in. Soprison "widows" who remarried found that they had not counted on American methods. Bilibid, though in many ways still rather experimental, is a great success.
There are extensive shops, and the prisoners are kept at work all the time. Some make silverware, carriages, and furniture, while others do the cooking and washing for the prison, make their clothes, and run a laundry, not only for their own use, but for outside custom. Many are employed in road building and on fortifications. Each man learns a trade during his term of imprisonment, and so is better able to earn an honest livelihood than when he entered. I have been told that Bilibid "graduates" are in demand because of their honesty and industry. No better recommendation for a prison could be desired.
Besides the shops, there is a school in which they are taught English. The day we visited the prison we saw a teacher there who had been a guest at the Governor's table, but as he had forged a check he was paying the penalty. Most of the attendants in the up-to-date prison hospital were Spaniards who were in for life sentences and who made very good nurses. Part of this institution is devoted to consumptives, of whom there are so many in the Islands,and they receive treatment according to the best and latest methods.
PENAL COLONY ON THE ISLAND OF PALAWAN.PENAL COLONY ON THE ISLAND OF PALAWAN.
We were much interested in the kitchens, and the manner in which food was issued to several thousands in only six minutes. It was all wonderfully systematized.
Late in the afternoon we went up into the central tower to watch the "retreat." The prisoners' band, which had played for us as we entered the prison gates, now took its place in the courtyard below and began to play. Out of the workrooms trooped hundreds of convicts, who were searched for hidden implements and then released to take their position in military formation. The different groups marched to their quarters and, standing outside, went through a series of exercises to the music of the band. They seemed to enjoy this very much, and later, still to the music, marched gaily off to get their rations.
A long-term prisoner with two years of good conduct to his credit is given the privilege of going to the penal colony on the island of Palawan. This island is one of the more southern ones, and is the place where the Spanish sent their convicts in the old days. But the present colony, which was established by Governor Forbes, is very different from the former one.It was once a malarial jungle, but now is a healthy, thoroughly up-to-date and successful reform institution.
Our visit to this place was one of the most interesting features of our whole trip. Palawan itself is a curiosity, for it has an underground river which has been explored for two miles beneath a mountain. But the penal settlement is unique.
Leaving the steamer at Puerto Princessa, a quaint little town with charming old Spanish gardens, we were met by a launch which took us up the Iwahig River to the colony. This launch, which was gaily decked with flags, was manned by convicts, the engineer himself being under a sentence of nineteen years for murder. After an hour's sail up the tropical river, we reached our destination. At the wharf we were greeted by Mr. Lamb, superintendent of the colony, a Dominican priest, and a crowd of prisoners who were enjoying a holiday.
We were driven to headquarters, near a pretty plaza with hedges and flowers, surrounded by several two-story barracks built of bamboo and nipa, where the prisoners live. As we walked about the plaza we visited the hospital and the chapel, as well as the main office and the superintendent's house.
The penal settlement is located on a reservation of two hundred and seventy square miles. At the time of our visit there were in all eleven hundred convicts—Filipinos for the most part, with a few Moros—and only three white men to keep them in order. The prisoners had all come from Bilibid prison.
In its management, the colony is somewhat like the George Junior Republic for boys in America. The prisoners elect their own judges and make some of their own laws, subject to the approval of the superintendent. A majority verdict will convict, but the superintendent has the right to veto any measures. Men who break the laws are locked up, but can be released on bail.
The police force is composed of convicts, of course. The chief of police when we were there was a murderer who had earned his pardon but preferred to remain in the settlement. If a prisoner tries to escape he is followed, and occasionally one is shot. The attempt is seldom made, for it is difficult to get away, and the men are, moreover, quite content to live there. Once thirty-five convicts did make a break for liberty, but beyond the confines of the settlement they found themselves in the midst of the savage Mangyans, by whom some were killed. Of therest, those who were not captured alive returned of their own free will and were consigned again to Bilibid, which is considered a great punishment.
For good behaviour, convicts may earn the right to have a house of their own, with their family, one bull or carabao, and a little farm to cultivate. There were then a hundred and eighty of these farmers, who raised their crops on shares, the government receiving half. They had to report to headquarters by telephone every other day and undergo a weekly inspection as well. Every year they were obliged to plant cocoanuts, which in a few years were expected to bring in large returns. Already great quantities of yams were being shipped to Bilibid, and in a short time enough cattle would be delivered there to supply, in part at least, the meat demand of that prison. The colony suggests the possible solution of the meat question for the American army in the Philippines, as they were successfully raising calves from native cows by Indian bulls.
Although the majority of the prisoners were engaged in farming, they were often given the privilege of selecting the kind of work that they preferred, and were divided accordingly, their hats and the signs on the sleeves of their prisonclothes showing what grade of convict they belonged to and what work they did. They were paid in the money of the colony, which was good nowhere else.
There were about forty women on the reservation. The men might marry if they earned the privilege, or if already married, they might have their wives and children come to live with them. There were six marriages the year we were there. After receiving their pardons, they could remain on the island if they wished, their work being credited toward the purchase of their farms, but they had to continue under the laws of the colony.
At the main office we saw four prisoners who were about to be pardoned. Governor Forbes very kindly asked me to hand them their pardons and ask any questions I wished. One, abandolero, or brigand, was small and wizened. Another, who looked much like him, when asked what crime he had committed, laughed and answered, "Bigamy!" A third, a stolid, thickset fellow, had the best face of them all, but showed no emotion whatever when I gave him his pardon. He also had been a brigand.
The convicts gave an exhibition fire drill for us at the barracks. The natives are born climbers, and scramble down the poles with theagility of monkeys. They also play baseball, of course. They are remarkably musical and have a good band.
We had luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Lamb in their pretty bamboo and nipa cottage. Mrs. Lamb was a frail little woman, but strong in spirit, for she did not seem at all afraid to live in this land of evil men. She told us that the three murderers whom she had as servants were very efficient, and were devoted to her little four-year-old son.
When our visit ended we were driven in a wagon to the river, accompanied by a troop of prisoners who ran alongside shouting good-bys. At the wharf they lined up while Mr. Lamb and the priest bowed us politely aboard the launch.
These intrepid countrymen of ours, who are healing and uplifting a whole people, seem to me to be true missionaries. The time may come when the work which they are doing will set a standard for us stay-at-homes to follow, that is, if we send the right kind of men out there. As the song says,
"Ah, those were the days when the best men won,The survival of those that were fit—When the work to be done counted everything,And politics nary a bit."
T
he natives of the Philippines are Malays, as I have said, but they are sometimes classified as Christian, Pagan and Mohammedan Malays. The Christian and educated tribes live near the coast on the lowlands and are called Filipinos. They have intermarried greatly with the Spaniards and Chinese. There are twenty-seven non-Christian tribes in the Islands—about four hundred thousand in number in the Mountain Province of Luzon alone. These hill people are seldom seen, although during the last few years most of the tribes have come under government influence and head-hunting has been more or less given up. These dwellers in the mountains include the aborigines who were driven out of the valleys by the Malays, and also the Malays of the earlier migration, who refused to embrace the Mohammedanism of the Moros of the southern islands or the Christianity of the Spaniards.
We were fortunate in having the opportunityto see some of the dog-eaters and other hill people. Our party was divided, and while several of the men went into the heart of the head-hunting country, the rest of us took the train to Baguio, the mountain capital. What a night it was! The heat was frightful, and swarms of mosquitoes added to the torture. But at sunrise, as I sat on the back platform while the train steamed through rows of cocoanut palms, past little huts and stations, I was reminded of this verse:
"Mighty, luminous and calmIs the country of the palm,Crowned with sunset and sunrise,Under blue unbroken skies,Waving from green zone to zone,Over wonders of its own;Trackless, untraversed, unknown,Changeless through the centuries."
THE PARTY AT BAGUIO.THE PARTY AT BAGUIO.
Leaving the tropics behind, we climbed up, up among the glorious mountains. At last the train stopped at a little station, and we took the motors that were waiting and went on higher and higher into cloudland, where the tall pines grew and the mountains rose into the sky. We had indeed ascended "into Paradise from Purgatory." As one resident in Manila expressed it: "The heavenly coolness, the sweetpine air and the exquisite scenery give you new life after the years spent in the heat, glare, dust and smells of the lowlands."
We were passing over the far-famed Benguet Road, one of the finest highways in the world, which wound in and out through the gorges of the mountains, repeatedly crossing the river that roared beneath. For twenty miles we zigzagged up the slopes, with widening views of great hills opening before us, and cascades bursting out from beneath the mountains, till we came out on the plateau of Baguio, five thousand feet above the sea.
This road, which has been a favourite theme for discussion by politicians, was opened to traffic in 1905. It is true that the cost of the roadway was beyond what anybody had anticipated, on account of the many bridges that had to be repaired each year after the rainy season, and also after the destructive typhoons that sweep over the island—one in 1911 brought a rainfall of forty-six inches in twenty-four hours—which hurl avalanches of débris from the mountain slopes. For this reason a new road from Bauang to Baguio has been commenced, not nearly so direct but requiring only a few bridges, and it is to be hoped will prove successful and more economical than the other.
Baguio, in the midst of glorious mountain scenery, where the temperature never goes above eighty and the nights are deliciously cool, really is an ideal health resort for a tropical country. The Philippines have Mr. Worcester and Mr. Forbes to thank for this blessing. Government buildings were erected, and the whole force of the government was moved up there for the hot season, with the rich return of the improved health and greater efficiency of the employees. A hospital for tuberculosis was built, and a much needed school for American children, the Jesuit observatory was established, and Camp John Hay was laid out as a permanent military post. Many people bought land and put up little bungalows. A teachers' camp was started by the Bureau of Education for American teachers from all over the Islands, where they had not only rest and recreation but the mental brushing up of good lectures after months in lonely stations.
When the Democratic Administration began its changes in the Philippines, government offices were ordered to be kept in Manila throughout the year, consequently only the higher officials were able to go to Baguio, with a result patent to every one in the lessened efficiency of the force. But within the last two or threeyears, the Filipinos have come to appreciate the place, which was a revelation to them. Now rich and poor manage to go there, and they have taken possession. The benefits of Baguio and the Benguet Road are felt even in Manila, where Americans are beginning to get fresh garden peas, summer squash, wax beans and real strawberries(!). A friend writes, "If the time ever comes when we can have real cow's milk and cream, then our food will be as good as anywhere in the States."
We had a glorious week at Topside, Governor Forbes's attractive bungalow, and speedily became as enthusiastic in our praises of Baguio as every one else who has ever been there. I rode all day long on Black Crook, the most perfect polo pony in the world, through the mists and the sunlight and into the rainbow shades of the setting sun, where the clouds turned the colour of cockatoos' wings and the tints of the fish from the China Sea.
"Cloud Maidens that float on forever,Dew-sprinkled, fleet bodies, and fair,Let us rise from our Sire's loud river,Great Ocean, and soar through the airTo the peaks of pine-covered mountainsWhere the pines hang as tresses of hair."
I played my first polo game at Baguio on theclub grounds. Squash Pie, Calico Pie and other delightful names were given to the native ponies, which are small but very strong.
We went to the government stock farm, where they are trying experiments in breeding horses. They had a native pony there that had been well fed and taken care of for some time, in order to show the difference between it and the forlorn animals that one might see anywhere in the towns. The native Spanish pony has greatly degenerated. At this farm they had a beautiful Arabian stallion and a Morgan stallion from Vermont. It is said that the first generation of American horses does well in the Philippines, but after that the climate and the change in food cause them to deteriorate. Besides, they are rather too big for mountain cavalry. The Arabian stallion and the native mare are said to breed the best kind of horse for this country. Black Scotch cattle and Australian cattle, which are raised at the government farm, do well. Sheep do not pay, for, to begin with, there is no market for the wool. Goats do well, and goats' milk is in great demand. The natives use principally the carabao and the native cattle, which look like small Jersey cows but are not very good.
Another day, Mrs. Whitmarsh, from Boston,gave us a tea in a little house hung with orchids and Japanese lanterns, and we visited Mr. Whitmarsh's gold mine. Some of us went on horseback down into the valley to see the tunnels. We washed a pan of ore in the brook and found at the bottom little fine gold specks. The Benguet Igorots have mined gold for centuries.
IGOROT SCHOOL GIRL WEAVING.IGOROT SCHOOL GIRL WEAVING.
At Baguio we visited missionary and government schools and Camp John Hay, where Captain Hilgard gave us a reception. At the government school the Igorot boys are taught, among other things, to make attractive mission furniture, while the girls learn to weave, and very pretty things they make. These girls wear short blue skirts and little jackets, and have their hair in two long black braids that hang on either side of their faces. A Turkish towel, worn as a turban, on which to rest burdens, seemed to be the fashion in head gear with them. Loads are also carried by the Igorots on their backs, hung by straps over the forehead.
It was an Igorot child in this school who wrote the following article upon Mrs. Dickinson's visit at Baguio:
"It was yesterday morning very early when we started from here to the Post Office to meet a lady named Mrs. Dickinson. So early we all went down the brook to take our bath. Afterwe had taken our bath we had breakfast. I was late so Ina scolded me, but I am glad she did it so that some day I won't do it again. Then we were all line up in two by two. When we got up to the Post Office she was not there so we waited for her an hour or two. After waiting for them they arrived suddenly. There were some ladies who accompanied Mrs. Dickinson. We were very much pleased to see her and she was much pleased too. The first time that she came in the Philippine Islands from America and she is soprice (surprised). We sang three songs and the National Anthem and waving our flags on the road. When we finished singing they clapped their hands. I gave her a bouquet of pink flowers. This we did it for our honour of Mrs. Dickinson not because she is more kind or lovely lady but because she is the wife of Mr. Dickinson. This Secretary of War is the leader of those who have authorities. He is responsible of them. After that we came right back. Miss B. came for school. We cleaned the schoolroom and the yard so that they will be so tidy when they come to see the school at three o'clock. We fixed the two bridges and we trimmed the road little bit for their automobiles to dance on. But they left them on the road yonder because they afraidmight the bridges will do them damage. So they walked from there to here, and when they went back, they walked from here to there again, making them a journey."