CHAPTER XXII

THE GOVERNMENT OF THE NON-CHRISTIAN TRIBES (continued)

The province of Mindoro includes numerous small islands, all peopled by Tagálogs, and the main island of Mindoro, which has a narrow broken fringe of Tagálog settlements along its coast. Its whole interior is populated, so far as it is inhabited at all, by the Mangyans, a primitive semi-nomadic tribe which is of Malayan origin but has considerable Negrito blood. No one knows even approximately how many of them there are, for although the island has been crossed in several different places, much of it is still quite unexplored. In most of the interior regions thus far visited the population is very sparse, but one quite thickly settled district has been found. It is believed that the Mangyans number something like 15,000.

The Filipino settlements were so disorderly, filthy, and unhealthy that the energies of the first governor, Captain R. G. Offley, and those of his successor, Captain Louis G. Van Schaick, were to a large extent expended in efforts for the betterment of the Tagálogs. It is a pleasure to record the fact that these efforts met with a very large degree of success.

The condition of most of the Tagálog towns is now good. Mangarin is the chief exception to this statement. Its surroundings are such as to make it impossible successfully to combat malaria, from which every one of its inhabitants suffers. We are still endeavouring to persuade its unfortunate people to move to a healthy site!

Governor Offley did some work for the Mangyans. They have advanced but slightly beyond the Negritos in civilization. Many of them live under shelters not worthy of the name of huts, and in the vicinity of Mt. Halcon even the women are clad only in clouts. Houses are placed singly in the dense forests, or at the most are gathered in very small groups. It proved a most difficult undertaking to persuade any considerable number of Mangyans to gather together and construct decent dwellings. It had been their custom to abandon their forest homes whenever a death occurred, leaving behind all their belongings, and perhaps even changing their names on the theory that their old names were unlucky and new ones might prove advantageous.

With admirable patience Governor Offley organized a little village called Lalauigan on the south coast of Mindoro. Lalauigan has prospered. It is very clean; the houses of its Mangyan residents are quite presentable. The neighbouring fields are planted with corn and rice. It has a school, and the children prove to be apt pupils.

Another Mangyan village, organized near the west coast, was short-lived. The Tagálog Filipinos look with great disfavour on the gathering of the Mangyans into settlements where they can be protected, as this renders it difficult to hold them in a state of peonage. Whenever Governor Offley got a little group together, they did their best to scatter it. In this instance they passed the word that smallpox had broken out in a neighbouring Tagálog village. All Mangyans are deathly afraid of this disease, and this particular set built a great fire, jumped through the flames to purify themselves from contagion, took to the hills, and have not been seen since!

While in hearty sympathy with the admirable work which was being done among the Tagálogs, I was dissatisfied with the failure to push explorations in the interior more actively and to get more closely in touch with the wild inhabitants. When the Tagálog settlements had at last been put in really good condition, I gave Governor Van Schaick, who had succeeded Governor Offley, positive instructions that more attention must be paid to the Mangyans. He then began

## active explorations, and pushed them with considerable success up

to the time when he was compelled to tender his resignation by the terms of the Army Appropriation Bill for 1913, which necessitated his return to his regiment. Prior to his departure he succeeded in establishing a new Mangyan village which has continued to prosper up to the present time. His successor, Governor R. E. Walters, was kept from actively pushing exploration work during the past "dry" season, by unprecedented rains.

Road and trail construction began several years ago and is going forward as rapidly as limited funds will permit.

The great trouble with the Tagálogs of Mindoro is that nature has been too kind to them. They have only to plough a bit of ground at the beginning of the rainy season, scatter a little rice on it, and harvest the crop when ripe, to be able to live idly the rest of the year, and too many of them adopt this course. However, some good towns, like Pinamalayan, are waking up as the result of immigration from Marinduque.

Two great services have been rendered to the more orderly of the inhabitants of Mindoro, which was, in Spanish days, a rendezvous for evil-doers from Luzón. Indeed, it was the most disorderly province north of Mindanao. An excellent state of public order has been established, and there has not been an armed ladrone [27] in the province for years. It was famous for its "bad climate." We have shown that its climate is good, making its towns really healthful by merely cleaning them up.

The establishment of a great modern sugar estate on the southwest coast has doubled the daily wage, and given profitable employment to all who wanted to work, and the people are beginning to bestir themselves. The public schools, of which every town has one, are materially assisting the awakening now in progress.

Palawan, like Mindoro, is made up of one large island, which bears the name of the province, and a number of smaller ones. Indeed, it includes more small islands than does any other province, with the possible exception of Moro.

The bulk of its Christian population are found on the smaller islands, several of which are very thickly settled.

The non-Christian inhabitants are divided between three tribes,--the Moros, Tagbanuas and Bataks. The latter are Negritos of very pure blood. Their number is quite limited. They extend across the island from the east coast to the west in the region north of Bahia Honda.

Until within a short time there have been Moro settlements scattered along both east and west coasts of the southern third of the main island. The Moro population of Palawan is largely composed of renegades who have been driven out of Joló, Tawi Tawi, Cagayan de Joló, British North Borneo and Banguey by their own people because of infractions of the laws of their tribe. When the province was organized, they were not cultivating a hectare of land amongst them. They lived in part by fishing, but chiefly on what they stole, or on the products of the labour of the hill people in the interior, many of whom they enslaved or held in a state of peonage, taking their rice and other agricultural products with or without giving compensation, as seemed to them good.

The hill people, who occupy the higher mountains in the interior of southern Palawan, and who in the central and northern portions of the island extend down to the very coast, are known as Paluanes in the south and as Tagbanuas elsewhere. Tagbanuas are also found on Dumarán and Linapácan, and quite generally throughout the Calamianes Islands, especially on Culion and Busuanga. I have failed to discover any real tribal differences between the Paluanes and the Tagbanuas and believe that they should be classed as one people, although the Paluanes are more inclined to stand up for their rights than are the Tagbanuas, and by using blow guns and poisoned arrows have succeeded in keeping the Moros out of the interior highlands. They were, however, long forced to trade with the Moros in order to obtain cloth, steel, salt and other things not produced in their own country, and so were at their mercy.

The Tagbanuas are a rather timid and docile people, giving evidence of a considerable amount of Negrito blood. They are at times quite industrious, and raise considerable quantities of rice and camotes, but live, in part, on fish, game and forest products.

Communication in this province was very difficult. The main island of Palawan, which is some two hundred fifty miles in length and very narrow, extends in a northeasterly and southwesterly direction, and as a result both of its coasts are swept by each monsoon so that there are only about two months of the year when travel by sea in small boats is comfortable and safe. At the outset there was not a mile of trail on the island. This latter condition is being rapidly remedied.

The first governor appointed for the newly established province of Palawan was Lieutenant E. Y. Miller, U. S. A., a man of splendid physique, tireless energy, and indomitable courage.

Governor Miller set to work very actively to better the condition of the Filipinos and to establish friendly and helpful relations with the non-Christians.

The bulk of the Christians are unusually poor and ignorant and many of them were held in a miserable state of peonage by a few caciques. Vigorous efforts extending through a long term of years have weakened the grip of the caciques, but have by no means broken it.

At an early date the new governor won the admiration of the Moros, who like courage, by a series of very brave acts. A number of constabulary soldiers who were coasting along the west shore of Palawan in a sail-boat went ashore, leaving their rifles on board guarded by two or three of their comrades. They also left several Moros on the boat, and the latter, watching their opportunity, killed the guards and got away with the rifles, taking them to Dato Tumay, their chief, who armed his people with them.

Governor Miller, with Captain Louden, of the constabulary company concerned, promptly attacked Tumay's place and drove him into the hills. Tumay took refuge in a Tagbanua village, never dreaming that he would be pursued into the mountain fastnesses. Miller and his companions succeeded in getting into the place before Tumay knew they were in the vicinity, and there followed a fight to the death at close quarters. Two soldiers, standing one to the right and one to the left of Governor Miller, were shot dead, but he was not scratched.

On a number of other occasions he displayed a bravery approaching recklessness. Hearing that a fleet of some fifty Moro boats had put to sea on a piratical expedition, he embarked in a twenty-foot launch accompanied only by a captain of constabulary, and the two of them ran down and disarmed the pirates and sent them home. They nearly sank their tiny launch with the dead weight of the weapons which they took on board. The thing seems preposterous, and only Miller's extraordinary moral influence over these unruly people made it humanly possible.

When I visited Palawan on my regular inspection trip in the year 1909, I found Mrs. Miller much worried about her husband, who was absent from the capital, having gone to arrest some Moro murderers at Lara. As usual, he had taken with him only a constabulary captain and three or four soldiers, and Mrs. Miller feared that he might be killed.

I hastened down the coast of the island at the full speed of my steamer, keeping a close watch for his boat, and finally located it at Bonabóna, where he had succeeded in arresting several of the criminals. On his way down he had stopped at Lara and had learned that a brother of the local chief, Dato Pula, was responsible for the murder, having ordered it and paid the assassins who committed it, one of whom was lurking in the vicinity, while others had gone to Bonabóna. Governor Miller called upon Dato Pula to deliver both his brother and the murderer, who was then at Lara, and stated that he would be back on a certain day to receive them. As he insisted on returning at the appointed time and attempting to arrest these men, I took him on my steamer, together with his American companion and one constabulary soldier. The other soldiers remained on his boat to guard the prisoners he had already taken.

We returned to Lara, but were unable to land in front of the town as a heavy surf was thundering on the beach. A mile to the north we found a sheltered spot where we could safely disembark and our little party, consisting of Governor Miller armed with a six-shooter, a constabulary captain armed with a Winchester shotgun and a six-shooter, a constabulary soldier armed with a carbine, ex-Insurgent Colonel Pablo Tecson armed with my double-barrelled shotgun, Governor Pack of the Mountain Province, my brother George S. Worcester, and my stenographer, all of whom were without weapons, and myself carrying an automatic Winchester rifle, marched on the town. Governor Miller sent the soldier ahead to warn the Moros that they must meet us unarmed. A small reception committee did so.

On the very outskirts of Lara we waded a creek nearly up to our necks in water, then marched up the street and entered Pula's house. Just as we did so I saw twenty or thirty fully armed Moros come in on the run and hastily conceal themselves in one of the numerous neighbouring houses. I further promptly discovered that two rooms partitioned off in the corners of the great living room of Pula's house were crowded full of men armed to the teeth, and that a second-story room, immediately under the roof and over our heads, was similarly occupied. I asked Governor Pack quietly to ascertain how many of the houses in the village were occupied by fully equipped fighting men, and he soon informed me that every one of them was packed. We estimated that there were several hundred warriors in town, which meant that Pula had raked the coast of the island north and south for miles and brought in every male Moro big enough to wield a weapon.

We seated ourselves on a table, back to back and facing out, with our own weapons very handy, and had a talk with Pula which lasted until late in the afternoon. Standing within striking distance of us most of the day, were two stalwart Moros, each of whom had a kriss dagger firmly gripped in his right hand and concealed between his folded arms. When one remembers that the average Moro fighter does not seem to know when he is dead, but keeps on doing damage after he ought to be busily occupied in passing to the other world, it will be seen that our situation left much to be desired.

Under the pretext of sending for a phonograph with which to entertain the crowd while our negotiations continued, I communicated with the captain of our steamer, advising him of the facts. He got out ammunition for his two one-pounder rapid-fire guns and took up a position immediately in front of the town. We did not ask him for reënforcements, believing that any attempt on his part to send them would precipitate an attack on us.

Never did I pass a more peculiar, or a more unpleasant, day. Miller steadfastly insisted that Pula's brother and the hired assassin be given up. Pula produced two thoroughly cowed Tagbanuas whom he had induced by threats to declare that they had committed the murders, and most emphatically declined to turn over either his brother or the true murderer. Our discussions were punctuated by tunes played on the phonograph which created great excitement among the Moros, some of whom got up and danced to the music!

Finally, late in the afternoon, Pula gave in, turned the murderer over to us, and promised to turn over his brother, but said that the latter must first be allowed to go home to get some clothes, and that he would then send him on board our ship.

We improved this our first opportunity to beat a retreat without losing face. Our Moro "friends" bid us good-by on the beach, then armed themselves and followed us at a short distance as we marched back to the landing place where our launch was pounding in the surf, awaiting our return. Three strong fighting parties came out of the dense vegetation which bordered the beach immediately after we had passed the places where they were concealed. They had obviously been waiting there to cut off our retreat if trouble started, and could most certainly have done it. In fact, they could have shot us down from the brush without showing themselves.

It required all the self-control which I could muster to keep my back toward the strong and constantly growing group of armed men who followed us, and to look unconcerned, yet I knew, as did every other member of the party, that our seeing the light of another day probably depended on our ability to do both things. The slightest evidence of alarm would have precipitated a fight which could have had but one outcome for us.

When opposite the launch, we turned and faced the Moros and then the several members of the party went aboard, one at a time. Never did a widening strip of water look better to me than did that which finally began to separate us from the shore.

To our great amazement Dato Pula kept his word and sent his brother on board!

No man ever laboured more diligently for the good of alien peoples than did Governor Miller. He evolved a wise plan for improving the condition of the Tagbanuas living in the vicinity of Puerto Princesa, many of whom, as is so often the case with the uncivilized peoples of the Philippines, were reduced to a state of peonage by their Filipino neighbours. A large reservation was set aside for their exclusive use, and they were persuaded to retire to it. At the cost of infinite labour and pains Governor Miller built there a fine set of school buildings, and the Bureau of Education started a school which gives instruction in English, arithmetic and manual training to Tagbanua boys and girls.

Governor Miller's keen interest in this project led him to stop to inspect the progress of the work when returning from a long trip around the island. In the face of a coming storm he ascended the Aborlan River to the school site, where he remained until after dark, oblivious of the fact that a tremendous downpour of rain in the neighbouring mountains had produced a sudden flood in the river. Returning to his launch, he jumped on board and cast off before the engine was started. The current swept the launch away like a straw, carried it in close to the bank, and an overhanging branch, which ordinarily would have been high above the water, struck the governor a stunning blow on the head, knocking him overboard. He never came to the surface, and twenty-four hours elapsed before his body was recovered.

Mr. John H. Evans, then serving as lieutenant-governor of Bontoc, in the Mountain Province, was appointed in his place, and I took him around the Palawan group of islands to introduce him to his unruly subjects. On arrival at Puerto Princesa we were told that the occupants of a fleet of Moro boats were already raiding and killing along the southern coast of the island, and we accordingly took on board Captain Moynihan of the Philippine Scouts, with thirty of his soldiers. The report proved unfounded, but nevertheless the soldiers came in very handily.

I landed at Culasián Bay on the west coast, meaning to ascend a river to the settlement of Dato Tumay, the man whose people had on a former occasion fought Governor Miller with captured constabulary rifles and been soundly whipped. Finding no one on the beach, we walked up the river bank for a short distance to a group of half a dozen tightly closed houses which looked as if they might belong to fishermen. Here we were met by a splendidly dressed glad-hand delegation, who greeted us rather too effusively. My suspicion was further aroused by the fact that only three of them carried weapons, in sight at least. The weapons of a Moro chief are just as much a part of his full dress as are the garments he wears. I had a few moments' friendly conversation with these people, during which I noticed that several of them displayed a marked inclination to get behind me. This I did not like, so took up a position with my back to the river. Presently I suggested that we had come to call on Dato Tumay. The following conversation ensued:--

"You cannot go to see him."

"Why not? Are the trails in bad condition?"

"There are no trails."

"Are you not Dato Tumay's people?"

"Yes."

"How did you come down if there are no trails?"

"We came down the river."

"Very well, we will go up the river."

"You cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"There are no boats to carry you."

"How did you come down?"

"In those boats. [Pointing out two tiny dugouts barely able to carry two men each.] You and one of your friends can go up in them if you like. Two of our men will paddle you."

This proposition did not seem attractive to me, so I suggested that I would take a little walk up the river. I had been positively assured that there was no other boat in the vicinity, but at the very first turn discovered a suspicious looking trail running up into the bushes and following it found a fully rigged war-canoe over which freshly cut brush had been hastily thrown. I suggested to the Moros that this looked very much like a boat. They replied that it leaked. I asked them to put it into the water, stating that I liked to see boats leak. Not a Moro stirred. We had brought twenty-five soldiers ashore with us, as Tumay's reputation was by no means of the best, and I now called to some of them to come and put the boat into the river. In passing back of the group of Moros, one of these men stubbed his toe on the shaft of a lance which was hidden in the grass, and fell on his nose. He raised the lance as he recovered his feet, then stooped and picked up a second one, trailed them behind him until he reached a position in front of me and dropped them on the ground. Both had the sheaths removed from their long steel heads. Another soldier kicked around in the grass a bit and produced a serpent kriss which had been drawn from its scabbard. Still another fished up a baróng. [28]

I asked the ranking Moro present what was the meaning of these weapons, concealed at our very feet. He said that they were afraid that we would steal them and had therefore hidden them. I asked him whether any white man had ever stolen anything from them, and also why they had hidden them there, where we were likely to cut our feet on them, instead of in the forest which was not fifty yards away. Obviously there was no satisfactory answer to these questions and he had no time to attempt any, for one of the soldiers stooped down and pulled out of the grass from beside his very hand a forty-five caliber single-action revolver, cocked and with all six cylinders loaded. Fearing to be taken at a disadvantage, I said to the soldiers, "Make these men sit down, and search the place for arms."

The soldiers repeatedly ordered the Moros to sit down and the order was translated to them in their own language by my interpreter. Not a man obeyed. On the contrary, one of them turned his back and started off at a quick pace, disregarding repeated orders to halt. Theoretically he should have been shot.

Practically, I had ordered the soldiers not to fire under any circumstances unless some Moro drew a weapon. Mr. Olney Bondurant, assistant to the provincial governor for work among the Moros, had been taking a hasty look back of the houses and was returning to tell me that they were full of armed men. The Moro above mentioned, just before meeting Bondurant, reached into a bush and drew out two of the cruel fighting knives known as baróngs. They were in their flat sheaths, and lay one on top of the other. Snatching the upper one from its scabbard, he struck a wicked blow at Bondurant as the latter passed him on the trail. Bondurant, who was quick as a cat, dodged the blow, then whirled and shot his assailant. Instantly armed men with drawn weapons began to boil out of the houses on the side farthest from us, and those soldiers who were in a position to see them promptly opened fire. Other Moros also began to pop up at the edge of the forest, and we had a bit of a scrimmage, lively enough while it lasted. I took no part in it, but with three soldiers helping me compelled eleven men of the group with whom we had been talking to sit down, and kept them sitting until the unpleasantness was over, as I wanted to talk with them. I then told the head man to stand up.

He was very reluctant to do this, obviously expecting to be shot, but no such fate was in store for him. On the contrary, I gave him a lecture, told him where certain wounded and certain dead Moros were to be found, and instructed him and his people first to care for the wounded; second, to bury the dead; third, to go to Tumay's place and tell him that although I had come to make a friendly call on him, my party had been attacked by his people, but that the only men who had been hurt were those who had endeavoured to use their weapons on us. I furthermore directed him to tell Tumay that he must come across the island to the place where Mr. Bondurant lived, and explain this extraordinary occurrence. We then took our departure, marching down the beach a mile to our launch, and expecting every moment to be fired on from the dense forest close at hand.

We learned from a wounded Moro that our party had been mistaken at a distance for that of Governor Miller. On his last trip around the island he had been threatened by Tumay, who surrounded him with a strong body of armed men and talked to him in a very insulting manner. Miller, who had but a single companion, knew himself to be at Tumay's mercy, and believing that he was in grave danger of being killed and that only a bluff could save him, slapped Tumay's face vigorously and then gave him a strong piece of his mind. Tumay, overawed at such temerity, allowed him to depart in safety. Before leaving, Governor Miller exercised his lawful authority to order Tumay to take his people and move to the east coast of the island. [29] Tumay begged that his people be allowed to harvest some rice which he said they had planted, and Governor Miller, not knowing whether or not the statement was true, and not being in a position to investigate it, allowed him two weeks to be spent in this way.

I was about Governor Miller's size. When I landed Tumay's people mistook me for him, and thought that he was returning with soldiers to punish them for having disobeyed him, or to enforce his order that they move to a more accessible place. Hence the plan for the attack, which was rather clever. While the reception committee entertained us, the men concealed in the woods were to open on us. As we turned to deal with them the ones hidden in the houses were to attack us from the rear, and the reception committee were then to join in. When they found themselves mistaken as to the make-up of the party, which was larger than they had expected, there was delay and confusion, and the attack fizzled.

A few days later Tumay actually started across the island in obedience to my instructions, but on the way he met two recalcitrant Moro chiefs who encouraged him to stand out, saying that they and their people would help him fight the Americans, and he turned back. I accordingly asked that a hundred scouts be sent after him, and this was done, fifty of them marching over the mountains to cut off his retreat and fifty coming on a coast-guard boat which was intended to serve as a base of operations and afford a place to which injured men might be brought for treatment. Strict instructions had been given that there was to be no firing, except in self-defence, when women or children were liable to be hit. These orders were strictly adhered to, and Tumay was twice allowed to escape when he could have been shot down if it had not been for the danger of killing Moro women and children. Ultimately, after the non-combatants had surrendered, his armed band was overtaken early in the morning, and fired from ambush into the approaching scouts. The return fire killed or wounded most of them, but Tumay got away. It was stated by some of his followers that he was badly wounded, but this proved to be untrue. A little later he voluntarily surrendered, as he had been deserted by his people and was reduced to dire straits.

The misconduct of Tumay and his men gave me a reason for moving the Moros from the west coast of Palawan, where they were living in mangrove or nipa swamps. It was hard to approach their settlements under any circumstances, and very dangerous to do so if they were disposed to be hostile. The west coast of Palawan was a no-man's land, difficult of access on account of weather conditions and numberless uncharted reefs. It had long been a safe haven for evil-doers who fled from other portions of the Moro country to escape the vengeance of their fellows, and there was no possibility of compelling them to abandon their evil practices unless they were transferred to more accessible regions.

Governor Evans, with my approval, now issued the necessary instructions to them, and they were all moved to the other side of the island, together with their household goods and chattels of every description. Once there they were assisted in procuring building materials, and were fed until such time as they were able to take care of themselves. Only the old, the infirm, and women and children who could not support themselves by working were given food gratis. Trail construction was inaugurated, and all able-bodied persons were given an opportunity to engage in this or in other honest labor for a good wage payable either in money or in rice.

At the end of a year I visited these Moros at their new homes near Bonabóna, going ashore without a weapon of any sort, and finding them more friendly than could reasonably have been anticipated. I sent for old Tumay and had a very frank talk with him about past differences, in the course of which I asked him if he had had enough. He assured me that he had, and I then suggested that we forget the troubles which were behind us and try to get on better in future. He promised to do his part, and has faithfully kept his word.

In August, 1912, I again visited the Moros of this region and to my great surprise was greeted as if I were a member of their royal family. They carried me ashore through the surf in a chair covered with a fine piece of purple brocade. Two men equipped respectively with a five-foot blue and a five-foot yellow umbrella, struggled with each other to see who should protect my delicate complexion from the sun. Wonder of wonders, the wives of the ranking chiefs were present in a dancing pavilion which had been erected for our benefit, this being the first time that these women had ever shown themselves in public. I learned that Hadji Mohammed [30] had explained to them that the women of other nations were getting progressive, and had argued that they ought to follow suit. The poor things were dreadfully frightened, and sat with their backs toward us, covering their faces with gayly colored cloths if we so much as glanced toward them, but they were there, anyhow!

At noon the Moros sat down with us to a fine luncheon of their own providing. This is the first time in my eighteen years of residence in the Philippines that I have known a Moro to sit at meat with a white man, or for that matter with any person not a Mohammedan.

After the meal several chiefs insisted on my visiting them individually, and I found that entertainment had been provided at each of their houses. Old Dato Tumay, with only one woman to help him, had built the best house in town, and was cultivating with his own hands the largest piece of land farmed by any Moro in Palawan. He was greatly pleased when I complimented him on the good example he was setting. Later I referred to it in my annual report, and the assistant to the governor for work among the Moros read to him what I had said. The old man was delighted. He immediately called the local chiefs together and delivered a long lecture on the advisability of settling down and tilling the soil. The principal request that the Moros made, on the occasion of this visit, was that they be furnished agricultural implements and seeds.

Tumay was very ill with dysentery. From the ship I sent him medicine and a case of milk. He recovered in due time.

Moros are uncertain people to deal with, but I believe that we are now on the right road so far as concerns those inhabiting Palawan, and that with a continuance of the present policy there will be no further serious trouble with them.

The Tagbanua reservation and the school established in connection with it have proved a great success. A large number of Tagbanuas have settled on the reserve and are farming industriously, while their boys and girls are making rapid progress in school, where they obtain practical instruction that will make them better and more useful men and women.

In Southern Palawan the wild people of the highlands, who have never yet allowed any one to enter their country, are being persuaded to come down to the coast by the establishment of little government trading posts where they can sell their few products at good prices, and can purchase what they need at a reasonable figure.

All in all, things are moving forward steadily in Palawan, although many of the Filipino settlements are still filthy and unsanitary. Encouraged by the results obtained in Mindoro, I have inaugurated an active campaign to compel these people to clean up, and anticipate success. One thing which renders it difficult to deal with some of the Filipinos of this province is that in its more remote districts they are showing a marked tendency to scatter out into the forests where they make caiñgins, or forest clearings, and live in tiny huts. Little by little they are gravitating back to the barbarism from which they originally emerged, and under existing laws they are free to do this if they like. I regret that this tendency is by no means confined to the province of Palawan. The Spaniards dealt with it in no gentle manner, but we are powerless to do more than argue against it.

The cost of the work in Palawan in valuable human lives has been dear. No one can at the outset fill the place of a man like Governor Miller, who had become invaluable not only as a result of his personal characteristics, but because of his years of experience and of the regard in which he was held by his people. Unfortunately his life is not the only one which has been sacrificed for the good of the inhabitants of this province. Mr. W. B. Dawson, who organized the work of the Tagbanua Industrial School and was in a fair way to make a success of it, died of malignant malarial fever contracted at his post of duty. Mr. William M. Wooden, who succeeded him, in his anxiety to return more quickly to his post after a brief absence, leaped overboard from a launch and was drowned while trying to swim ashore. Mr. Olney Bondurant, assistant to the provincial governor, who did admirable work among the Moros and the Tagbanuas in Southern Palawan, and though suffering from dangerous illness never gave up, but rendered service in the field on the very day of his death, also fell a victim to pernicious malaria.

If the results obtained by these splendid men, who amid lonely surroundings and in the face of manifold discouragements, bravely and effectively carried on their country's work, are to be permanent results, then I hold that the price has not been too dear, but if they are to be destroyed by the premature withdrawal of American control these sacrifices are pathetic indeed.

All of the territory in Northern Mindanao east of Dapitan and north of the eighth parallel of latitude was at the outset divided between the provinces of Surigao and Misamis. It is generally conceded that these provinces had been worse governed under American rule by their Filipino officials than have any others, and it was to be anticipated that, under such circumstances, their very numerous non-Christian inhabitants would prove to have been very badly mistreated. Sinister rumours reached me from time to time as to what was occurring, but I had no competent persons whom I could send to make investigations on the ground, and intended to defer action until I could go myself.

Matters were finally brought to a crisis by reports from Catholic priests, school-teachers and other reliable persons setting forth a condition of affairs which seemed to demand immediate remedial

## action. The commission had previously made a liberal sum available for

work among the Bukidnon people of Misamis, and I had endeavoured to bring about the prosecution of this work by the Filipino provincial officials, but my efforts had been fruitless. Not one centavo of the funds appropriated had ever been expended. No Filipino provincial official had so much as visited the main Bukidnon country, the borders of which were distant less than three hours' ride from the provincial capital.

The Bukidnon people are industrious. They raise a large part of the coffee, hemp and cacao exported from Cagayan, the capital and the principal port of Misamis. They were being robbed when they sold their produce. A common procedure was to instruct them that they must sell to certain individuals at absurdly low prices, and if they did not promptly obey, to bring charges of sedition against them and throw them into jail. As a matter of fact, they hardly knew the meaning of the word sedition.

Depredations upon them were by no means confined to the town of Cagayan de Misamis. Filipinos from the coast invaded their territory, debauching them with vino and purchasing their property when they were drunk; getting them into crooked gambling games and cheating them, or swaggering around armed with revolvers and so terrorizing them that they surrendered their belongings. It was common for a Filipino to go into the Bukidnon country with nothing but the clothes on his back, and soon to return with three or four carabaos heavily laden with hemp, coffee, cacao, or gutta percha.

Although the provincial governor had appointed, in some instances, men whom he had never seen as presidentes of settlements, the settlements were in reality without government, and their discouraged and disgusted people were betaking themselves to the mountains whence they had been brought years before by Jesuit missionary priests. The wilder members of the Bukidnon tribe, and the Manobos in the southern part of the province, who had never abandoned their mountain homes, were preying upon their neighbours, and committing crimes of violence undisturbed.

In the Agusan River valley conditions were nearly as bad. The people along the main stream were for the most part broken-spirited Manobos. Their settlements had been parcelled out among the members of the municipal council of Butuan to be plundered. The activities of these "Christian" gentlemen had been such that a number of Manobo villages were already completely abandoned, while the people of others were gradually betaking themselves to secure hiding-places in the trackless forests which stretch east and west from the banks of the Agusan.

Both in the Bukidnon and in the Manobo country the trade in bad vino was being actively pushed. The principal business on the Agusan River at that time was shipping it up-stream. Opium was being imported in considerable quantities from Cebu. The use of this drug was already established among the people of Butuan, and was gradually spreading up the river. The wilder Manobos, who lived some distance back from the stream, and the Mandayas along its upper waters, were killing and plundering without let or hindrance.

These statements, coming as they did from absolutely reliable witnesses, convinced me that I had allowed work for non-Christians in other parts of the archipelago to interfere unduly with investigations which I should have made in this region. As the legislation under which we were working for the betterment of the wild people had now taken final form, all that was necessary in order to begin active operations looking to the correction of these untoward conditions was to cut off a province from Surigao and Misamis and organize it under the Special Provincial Government Act. In view of the relative unimportance of the Filipino population in Misamis and Surigao, and of the lamentable conditions which had arisen there under Filipino provincial officials elected in accordance with the provisions of the Provincial Government Act, I suggested that both provinces be reorganized under the Special Provincial Government Act. This would have had the effect of making their officials appointive. American governors who would have protected the non-Christian inhabitants could have been put in office. Unfortunately, the first session of the Philippine Legislature was about to be held, the assemblymen having already been elected. Every member of the commission present, American and Filipino, agreed with me that the course which I suggested would be in the interest of the inhabitants of these two provinces, but they all shied off when it came to taking the needed action because of the political hullabaloo which would most certainly have resulted. I was forced to accept the best compromise I could get, and a law was passed providing for the establishment of the province of Agusan with two sub-provinces to be known respectively as Butuan and Bukidnon. Butuan took in the whole Agusan River valley as far south as the eighth parallel of latitude, and east and west to the crests of the two watersheds. It also included some territory on the west coast of the northern peninsula of Mindanao. Bukidnon included all of the territory inhabited by the people of the same name, and that of some wild Manobos in central Mindanao.

Armed with the law creating the new province, I proceeded to investigate conditions on the ground, and actually to establish the provincial government. At the town of Butuan, situated about five miles up the Agusan River, and accessible to good-sized steamers, I was met by Frederick Johnson, a captain in the Philippine constabulary who had had wide experience in dealing with the non-Christian tribes of the Moro Province and had been very successful in this work. At my request he had been appointed governor of the Province of Agusan, of which the town of Butuan was the capital.

We hired a launch, driven by a one-cylinder engine, from a man named Wantz, and in it proceeded up the river, taking the owner along to run the boat. It was paid for by the day, and I was warned before I started that Wantz had his own ways of lengthening journeys. I soon discovered that this was true. Before starting I had indicated the settlement which must be reached before dark, but the engine soon began to wheeze and thump dolefully. It happened that I knew something about gasoline engines, and this one sounded to me as if it were running with the spark advanced too far, but I could not discover the adjusting mechanism, so exercised diplomacy, involving Wantz in a discussion of the intricacies of modern gasoline engines, and stating that I had an automobile with a very convenient attachment for advancing and retarding the spark. He promptly and proudly showed me the device on his engine for the same purpose. It was hidden away where I could not have found it. After he had instructed me in its operation I quietly retarded the spark, and the engine began to work in a most cheering manner. In order to punish Wantz, I insisted that we keep on until we reached our prescribed destination, in spite of the time we had lost.

We had a prophet of evil on board who predicted that Wantz would certainly have the engine thoroughly stacked by the next morning, and he did. We had planned to start at daylight, but, when we climbed down to the boat in the gray dawn, found him puttering over its machinery. He said that the cylinder was "froze up." As the temperature did not seem to warrant such a result, I got him to explain to me what was wrong, and after watching him put on and take off the cylinder-head several times, discovered that he had an ingenious contrivance so arranged that by giving a single push he could put the make-and-break spark connection out of commission from the inside of the cylinder. I myself adjusted it properly, compelled him to put on the cylinder-head without touching his disarranging mechanism, and we went on our way. For some time I watched him closely, and while I continued to do so, the engine ran beautifully, but ultimately I had to go ashore to inspect a rotting Manobo settlement, and while I was gone he queered it again in such a manner that I could not find the cause of the mischief. We had speedy revenge, however, for while we were negotiating a swift rapid the engine died, with the result that the launch nearly turned turtle and narrowly escaped being wrecked. This frightened Wantz, and after a few mysterious manipulations on his part the engine began to "put, put, put" again most cheerfully, and we ascended the rapid without difficulty.

On the evening of the third day we reached a Filipino settlement called Talacógon, seventy miles up the river. Wantz began to complain that he was sick, and as Talacógon would have been a very comfortable place to lie over, I opined that his ailment would become acute before morning. At four o'clock I sneaked down to the river bank by a back street to see what was going on. He was whistling cheerfully. I beat a careful retreat, then came ostentatiously down the main road to the pier. Sepulchral groans were now issuing from the launch, and Wantz was not visible. I found him writhing on its bottom in assumed agony. By this time I had become convinced that a native banca with a few good oarsmen would be better than a launch with such an engineer, so told him I was sorry he was ill, gave him permission to return to Butuan, and offered to pay what I owed him on the spot. When he found that it was not my intention to pay for the time consumed by the return trip his symptoms became less alarming, and he expressed hope of ultimate recovery. Interrogated as to the probable date when he would be prepared to continue the journey, he put it three days ahead. I told him that I could not wait so long. Gradually he reduced to half a day the time which the reëstablishment of his health would require, but I told him that I could not wait, and that his recovery must be immediate if he was to continue with us. This was too much of a jolt to his pride, and when we were ready to embark he was still too ill to start! We accordingly loaded our belongings into two bancas each some sixty feet long, lay down on our backs in their little cabins, and continued on our way upstream.

The trip up the Agusan River is a most wonderful one. Nothing could surpass the magnificence of the tropical vegetation along its banks. The sportsman finds himself constantly diverted. Great fruit pigeons and huge hornbills frequently fly over one's boat, or perch in trees where they can be shot from the river. Monkeys abound. Huge crocodiles may occasionally be observed sleeping on the banks. Wild hogs are plentiful, but usually keep out of sight. The trees are hung with a marvellous drapery of vines, orchids and ferns, and, as the stream is so broad and deep as to render its navigation easy, one can lean back and enjoy to the full the beauties of nature displayed in prodigal abundance on every side.

We found the human inhabitants of this wonderful region a highly unsatisfactory lot. The Manobo families were living either singly, scattered along the river, or grouped in little villages composed of a dozen or two rotting huts and surrounded by the accumulated filth of years. As was to be anticipated under the circumstances, most of the people were full of malaria, and many suffered from repulsive skin diseases. They had little cultivated ground. The growing and cleaning of hemp was their only resource, and they had become so accustomed to having the products of their labour taken from them by the people of Butuan that they had almost given up working. They listened with dull, uncomprehending hopelessness to our story of better days to come, and it soon became evident that nothing but practical experience would convince these helpless people that times were going to change.

The Filipinos of Talacógon were an especially lazy, vicious lot, who did no work themselves, but sponged or stole a living from their non-Christian neighbours. Forest trees were springing up on the plaza of this town. Its streets were deep in mud, and its sanitary condition beggared description. I was really afraid to stay overnight. I ordered the people to clean up, and they laughed at me. I ultimately made them clean up, but they successfully resisted my efforts to do so longer than the people of any other town ever did, and several years passed before I was at all satisfied with results.

Our progress up the river was unimpeded until we reached what is shown on the maps of Mindanao as a series of extensive lakes, but is in reality a huge and trackless swamp. Some years before a very severe earthquake had caused the subsidence of a vast forested area along the banks of this portion of the Agusan River, with the result that the old river-bed was completely broken up, and the river below this point reversed its flow for some time until the depressed region had been filled up by the water which entered it from all sides. There were no well-established channels through this submerged forest, and navigation in it was dangerous unless one had experienced guides.

In order that such guides might be always available, the Spaniards had compelled a number of them to live on the outskirts of the swamp at a place called Clavijo. The ground on which their houses stood was under water most of the year. They were a miserable, sickly lot. Most of them were suffering acutely from malaria, and all were very anxious to abandon the ill-fated site of their village,--a thing which, it is needless to say, they were promptly permitted by us to do. Having secured the services of several of them, we continued our journey toward Bunauan, but found the stream which we ascended after extricating ourselves from the swamp so choked with rubbish that it was frequently necessary either to clear channels or to haul our heavy boats over masses of dead tree trunks, branches, bamboo, etc. From Bunauan we returned to Butuan and sailed for Cagayan de Misamis.

While passing along one of the main streets of the latter town on my way to the provincial building, I discovered Bukidnon people buying vino by the demijohn. The law prohibiting the sale of alcoholic liquors to members of non-Christian tribes was then in effect throughout the archipelago. One of the first questions which I put to the Filipino governor was whether he had taken the necessary measures to see that this law was enforced. He replied in the affirmative. I asked him what he had done. He said that he had sent letters to the several Bukidnon settlements telling the people that they must not buy vino. I asked him if he had warned the dealers in his own town that they must not sell to the Bukidnons, and he replied, "It has not occurred to me to do that!"

Having explained to the governor the terms of the law establishing the province of Agusan, and the reason for its adoption, I proceeded across the bay to a barrio which then was, and still is, the point of departure for the interior, planning to start at daylight the following morning. I had with me my private secretary Mr. Zinn, and Mr. Frederick Lewis, who had just accepted appointment as lieutenant-governor of the sub-province.

Lewis had taken a number of Zamboanga Moros to the St. Louis Exposition and had also assumed charge of the Lake Lanao Moros there when their manager misbehaved and it became necessary to dispense with his services. He had looked after his people so carefully and so well that some of the hardened old sinners from Lake Lanao actually wept when they parted company with him on the beach after their return from the United States! He was a tireless rider, and the country which he was to govern was a horseman's country par excellence.

Our transportation for the trip was in charge of a Filipino lieutenant of constabulary, named Manual Fortich, and I was not greatly pleased with this arrangement, as we had a hard journey ahead of us which might be rendered difficult or even dangerous by lack of efficiency on the part of the man who looked after our saddle animals and our carriers. I soon learned, however, that no better man could have been selected for this task.

We marched at daylight, as is my custom when travelling overland in the provinces. At midnight a mounted Filipino messenger, sent by the caciques of Cagayan, had started ahead of us to frighten the people of the towns which we proposed to visit so that they would take to the hills. In this he was partially successful. When we reached the small settlement of Tancuran late in the afternoon, after a hard day's work, the only inhabitants left were a few old cripples who had been too sick or too feeble to run away. However, many of those who had fled were hiding in the underbrush near by. Lieutenant Fortich, who had already made himself invaluable to us, soon rounded up quite a number of them, and they were in turn despatched for their friends.

This little village was in a deplorable state of abandonment. Only a few of its houses were habitable. It had been well laid out by some good Jesuit missionary priest, but its streets and plaza were choked with a jungle of tropical vegetation through which ran trails resembling deer paths! There was absolutely nothing growing in the vicinity which could furnish food for a human being.

Lieutenant Fortich ultimately got together quite an audience for me. We squatted around a cheerful camp-fire and discussed the past and the future until late at night. I was delighted to find that my auditors took a keen interest in my statements. They soon gained courage to tell me freely of the abuses which they had suffered, and while obviously not optimistic over my promises of better things, were evidently willing to be shown.

Just before we turned in Lieutenant Fortich asked me at what time I would like to start in the morning. I said "five o'clock." He replied, "Very well." While his remarks were gratifyingly in accord with the biblical injunction to "let your conversation be yea, yea; nay, nay," I feared that he did not fully comprehend the difficulties involved in an early start, so decided to take a hand myself when the time came. I accordingly arose at three-thirty A.M., and nearly fainted when I found that the horses were already munching their grain and, wonder of wonders, that the carriers were eating their breakfast. The usual thing is to be informed, when you are about an hour on your way, that the carriers have had no breakfast, and to be forced to sit down and wait while they cook and eat their morning meal. I went back to bed, convinced that I had discovered a new kind of Filipino constabulary officer. I got up again at four o'clock, dressed, and went to the table at four-thirty, finding a piping hot meal ready. When at five o'clock I descended the stairs of the house where I had spent the night, my horse was saddled and waiting at the gate. All I had to do was to climb aboard. Meanwhile I had not heard an order given, or a word spoken in a tone above that of ordinary conversation. Throughout the trip Lieutenant Fortich continued to display quiet efficiency. I jotted his name down in my mental notebook as that of a man to be used later. He is to-day the lieutenant-governor of Bukidnon, and a most faithful, competent and efficient public officer.

During my first day's ride I had had a decidedly startling experience. On leaving the sea beach one climbs rather abruptly for some nine hundred feet and then comes out on a wonderful plain. After riding over this beautiful stretch of level country for some time I could not longer resist the temptation to attempt to take a panoramic series of views showing it, so dismounted, set up my camera and made three exposures, rotating the instrument so as to get a panoramic effect. I worked with my back toward my companions, and became so absorbed in my task that I failed to notice that they were moving on. When I finally turned around I discovered to my utter amazement that I was alone, save for the carrier who packed my camera and plates. In every direction an apparently unbroken plain stretched for miles, and there was not another human being in sight. My companions had disappeared from off the face of the earth. I actually began to fear that I had taken leave of my senses. Nothing which has ever befallen me has given me such a curious sensation. However, one tangible thing remained; to wit, a well-marked trail through the grass. I followed it, and before I had gone three hundred yards came to the brink of a precipitous cañon down the wall of which my companions were zigzagging. From the point where I had taken my photographs it was absolutely impossible to detect the existence of this narrow crack in the earth. We soon learned, to our sorrow, that this first cañon was only one of many.

At its bottom was a raging torrent which we forded with difficulty. My fool horse got frightened and turned down-stream where the current was swiftest, and I narrowly escaped taking an impromptu trip down rapids which would have hammered me into insensibility against the rocks.

Until we reached Malaybalay the conditions encountered in the several villages through which we passed were similar to those which we had found at Tanculan: houses abandoned for the most part, and always in a lamentable state of neglect; sanitary conditions very bad; streets and plazas overgrown; an abundance of coffee bushes in some of the villages, but no visible source of food supply anywhere, except for a few scraggly banana plants.

At the outset we had found all the villages deserted, but in each case had managed to get some of the people back and hold a friendly interview with them. The "grapevine telegraph" got to working, and soon they began to await our arrival. At Malaybalay they gave us quite an ovation. This town was comparatively clean; the grass on the plaza was neatly cut. All in all, conditions were so encouraging that I decided that it should be the capital of the subprovince.

The following day we continued our journey to Linabo, where I heard of a Filipino engaged, as usual, in terrorizing the inhabitants and taking their products from them. I twice sent him courteous requests to come to see me, and then had him unceremoniously brought into my presence. He was carrying an ugly looking, heavy-calibre six-shooter. I demanded the document which justified his possession of this weapon, and as he could produce nothing more satisfactory than a note from the governor of Misamis authorizing him to use it in that province, I took his gun away from him. He assumed a threatening attitude and warned me that he was a friend of the provincial governor, but I told him that he was not a friend of mine, and started him on his way to the coast.

This occurrence was known throughout Bukidnon within three days, and as the man in question was influential the fact that his claws had been at least temporarily trimmed greatly encouraged the people.

From Linabo we returned by a different route, visiting the old settlement of Sumilao, the site of the original Jesuit mission in Bukidnon, and spending a day in endeavouring to reach a constantly disappearing village named Nanca. We had gathered from the written report of a lieutenant of the United States army that Nanca was distant from Sumilao about two hours' ride. We reached it after dark, having travelled steadily throughout the day except for some thirty minutes taken for lunch, and having, I firmly believe, broken the world's record for the number of cañons encountered in the course of a fourteen-hour ride.

Nanca proved to be a very interesting Bukidnon village, as its people retained their picturesque tribal dress and most of their primitive customs. I became much interested in finding out about its organization, and the part that each family took in its affairs, and asked the persons present what each man did. I finally came to a

## particularly fine-looking white-haired individual, and when I inquired

about him my informant replied: "Oh, he does not do anything. He is a philosopher!" Then the crowd shouted with laughter. We decided that the Bukidnons were not without a sense of humor.

A hard half day's ride brought us back to Cagayan de Misamis, and I sailed at once for Manila, leaving Lieutenant-Governor Lewis to face his difficult task alone. As I had anticipated, trouble promptly began. The wealthiest people of Cagayan had always lived off the unfortunate Bukidnons, and had no intention of relaxing their grip. I have deeply regretted that I did not myself visit the remaining villages in the valley of the Cagayan River and explain to their inhabitants the change in their fortunes. Agents of the Cagayan caciques had been busy there while I was occupied on the other side of the subprovince, and shortly after my arrival at Manila a telegram was received from the provincial governor, saying that the Bukidnons were asking for a brown governor, instead of a white one, and were reported to be preparing ropes and poison with which to commit suicide.

Now these simple people of the hills had no intention of committing suicide, nor did they want "a brown governor." Their petitions were prepared by Cagayan caciques and they were forced to sign them.

In the part of the subprovince which I had visited the conspirators against the new government made little headway. Nevertheless their vicious activities continued, and later, on several occasions, they succeeded in frightening the people of one or another of the then rapidly growing towns so badly that they took to the hills, and Mr. Lewis had to hunt them up and persuade them to come back again, which he always succeeded in doing.

When I returned to inspect Bukidnon a year later, I found that a marvellous change had already been brought about. Model villages had taken the place of the ramshackle affairs which I had found on my first visit. The houses were grouped around spacious plazas on which the grass had been so carefully cut that they had already begun to look like lawns. Streets were kept so clean that one could literally pick up a dropped pin without the slightest difficulty. Where the streets reached the open prairie, bars were provided to keep stray animals out of town. Every yard was neatly fenced. All domestic animals were properly confined if not out at pasture. Every village was perfectly drained, the slope of the land being such that all drainage promptly ran off onto the prairie. Yards were immaculately clean and were planted with useful food-producing crops. Little cultivated fields were already beginning to appear near the outskirts of the towns. This latter change greatly delighted me. These poor, ignorant people had always believed that the prairie soil was worthless for agricultural purposes, and that in order to grow crops it was necessary for them to go to the distant mountains, clear forest land and plant it. Furthermore, they had been quite unable to break the prairie sod and bring the underlying soil under cultivation with such simple agricultural implements as they possessed.

At the request of Lieutenant-Governor Lewis, I had furnished two disk plows with the necessary animals to pull them, in order that the land might be plowed the first time for those who were willing to cultivate it. Thereafter they were left to care for it themselves. This plan had aroused great enthusiasm. As I approached Sumilao I saw a crowd of men busily engaged in some task, and when I drew near was amazed and delighted to find that, although the disk plow intended for use at that place had arrived before the animals which were to pull it, fifteen men had harnessed themselves to it and were vigorously breaking the sod. I decided on the spot that the Bukidnon people had a future, and have never changed my mind. The progress which they have since made is almost unbelievable.

Efforts to destroy the government which we had established in Bukidnon, and to reëstablish the system of peonage under which its peaceful, industrious inhabitants had so long groaned, were persistently continued. During my third annual inspection trip, I found that there was a plan on foot to trump up criminal charges against Lieutenant-Governor Lewis and Señor Manuel Fortich, whose services I had meanwhile secured as an assistant to Mr. Lewis upon his severing his connection with the constabulary. The efforts of the mischief-makers had become so persistent and so vicious that I decided to declare war on them. Accordingly, I ran over to Cagayan and summoned the provincial officers and several other prominent citizens, with whom I went straight to the point, telling them that I had not anticipated that they would readily adapt themselves to the changed conditions which resulted from the separation of Bukidnon as a distinct subprovince, and had patiently waited three years for them to accept the inevitable, but that I had grown weary of their constant efforts to nullify the work which we were doing, and that I was aware of the plan to destroy the usefulness of Lewis and Fortich; adding that they must let the Bukidnon officials alone, and that in the event of future failure to do so I would temporarily transfer my office to Cagayan de Misamis and devote my time and attention to making things interesting for certain of them. I named no names, and it was not necessary to do so. The individuals referred to knew whom I meant.

Conditions now rapidly improved for a time, but in November I was called to Washington to be investigated by the Committee on Insular Affairs with reference to my administration of public and friar lands, and the enemies of the Bukidnon government promptly became active. Governor Lewis was arrested and tried on two criminal charges, while his assistant, Señor Fortich, was charged with murder, no less. If the charges of estafa and falsification of public documents brought against Lewis failed, it was proposed to prosecute him for adultery, the minimum penalty for which in the Philippine Islands is imprisonment for two years, four months and one day.

Fortunately, it took but a short time to show that the cases against those two young men were spite cases pure and simple, and they collapsed miserably. Other charges were promptly brought.

There had been a sad mix up, resulting from an ill-defined boundary line between Bukidnon and the Moro Province, for which I myself was directly responsible, as the papers concerning it were on my desk awaiting action when I was called home, and in the rush of a hurried departure I had overlooked them. Lewis and Fortich had been unjustly blamed for the result. I now took a hand in the game myself, and the whole matter was satisfactorily cleared up. Lewis was promoted to the governorship of the province of Agusan, and Fortich was made lieutenant-governor of Bukidnon, a position which he has filled ever since with great credit to himself and advantage to the Bukidnon people.

The progress which has been made in Bukidnon is really wonderful. At the outset there was not a decent trail in the subprovince. Now one can go nineteen miles inland to the Mañgima River cañon in an automobile, and it will be soon possible so to continue the journey ten miles further to Maluco. Excellent low-grade horse trails, many miles of which are already wide enough to serve as automobile roads as soon as the line to the coast is completed, connect the principal settlements of Bukidnon proper, which also have telephonic communication, the people having gladly undertaken to cut and erect the necessary poles and build and maintain the lines, if furnished instruments, wire, insulators and tools. They have kept their bargain, and there are constant demands for an extension of the system, under similar conditions, to the more remote mountain villages.

There was not a bridge or a culvert in the subprovince. Pack animals were constantly being swept away by the rushing currents of the larger rivers, or perishing miserably in mud when attempting to cross soft-bottomed creeks. Now one may ride from the sea-coast to Malaybalay without wetting the feet of one's horse, and in so doing one will cross more than a hundred substantial bridges and culverts built by the Bukidnons themselves. As a rule, even the largest bridges have cost the government no more than the price of their iron bolts and braces. The people have voluntarily and cheerfully done the work, in order to get the benefits which would result. In some cases heavy hardwood timbers have been dragged for fifteen miles or more by teams of hundreds of men. All bridges are roofed, and they afford fine camping places for travellers and their pack animals. Incidentally the load which pack animals can comfortably carry has been more than doubled.

Old villages have increased greatly in size, and numerous new ones have been established. All have spacious plazas and streets which are beautifully kept. The mountains are almost depopulated. The hardy old fighters who used to frequent them have become peaceful agriculturists. Houses are neat and clean. Yards are fenced, planted with useful crops, and well cultivated. Each house has its own sanitary arrangements. No domestic animals are allowed to run at large in towns.

Rich, cultivated fields surround the villages and each year stretch farther and farther out over the neighbouring prairies. Coffee production is increasing by leaps and bounds, and blight is disappearing from the plantations as the result of intensive cultivation. The people are well fed and prosperous. Their condition steadily improves. They have been taught the value of their products, and encouraged to insist on receiving it.

Practically every village has its schoolhouse and its schoolmaster's house, voluntarily built free of charge by the inhabitants. Children are sent to school by their parents and learn rapidly. On my second visit I found the boys trying to play baseball, using joints of bamboo for bats, and big, thick-skinned oranges for balls. I sent to each of the more important towns a complete baseball outfit, and now the boys certainly know, and can play, the game.

These results have been accomplished practically without bloodshed or rough treatment of any sort. Only in the rarest instances, and in dealing with the very worst of the hill men, who were professional murderers, has a shot been fired.

When the subprovince was invaded by bands of savages from the mountains of Butuan and from the neighbouring Moro Province, the people requested firearms so that they might protect themselves. Some twenty-five old carbines were furnished them, and they organized an effective force which pursued the evil-doers and policed them up very effectively.

Marámag, one of the most recently established villages, is in the very heart of Mindanao. Two years ago a good many of its leading citizens were living in tree-houses. During August, 1912, I found them cutting the grass on their plaza with a lawn-mower!

Another thing which has made me rub my eyes and wonder if I were awake was the discovery that the people of this subprovince were clothing themselves and their children in garments purchased from Montgomery, Ward & Co., of Chicago, Illinois, U. S. A.! The explanation is simple. The Cagayan shopkeepers persist in cheating them at every opportunity, and the house of Montgomery, Ward & Co. does not. Although Chicago is far away, the mail service is nevertheless good!

Death has just summoned Leoncio, one of the most remarkable men who has yet arisen among the Bukidnon people. We found him an absolutely illiterate heathen. With no other instruction than that given him by lieutenant-governors Lewis and Fortich, he learned to lay out and build roads and trails on any desired grade, to construct bridges which will be standing twenty years hence, and to erect public buildings which would be a credit to any man compelled to use such materials as those available in Bukidnon.

At the time of his death he was just finishing a bridge three hundred feet long across the rushing Culaman River. This structure has a galvanized iron roof, contributed by the enthusiastic residents of Sumilao.

The healthful rivalry between towns is one of the delightful things about Bukidnon. Each desires to have better buildings, better streets, better bridges, better roads and better schools than its neighbours.

I experience no keener pleasure than that which I enjoy on my annual trips through Bukidnon. There is always something new to see. The people are most grateful for the help which has been given them. Their friendliness and their loyalty cannot fail to touch the hearts of all who know them. They are now well housed, and well fed. Their children are being given in liberal measure the education which had previously been denied to them. The Bukidnons are to-day a prosperous, progressive people, happy and contented. I have an abiding faith in their future if they are given a chance.

When they meet their old Filipino oppressors on trips to the coast, the latter grit their teeth and remark under their breath: "Oh, very well. This is your inning now, but ours will come! The Americans are going soon, and then we will square our little account with you. You will pay dearly for your 'insubordination'!" Having set the feet of these people on the road which leads onward and upward, shall we leave them to their fate?

Conditions in Butuan have improved far more slowly than in Bukidnon. The climate is less favourable. Bukidnon is a highland country with a white man's climate. The Agusan River valley is usually hot, and always damp. The town of Butuan was considered the worst misgoverned municipality in the Philippines on the date of its separation from Surigao, and it was certainly one of the filthiest. I have sunk to my knees in the mud of its streets. It is to-day a beautifully kept and sanitary place, and is certainly not misgoverned.

As I have already said, the Manobo inhabitants of the wretched villages along the banks of the main Agusan River were a sickly, filthy, broken-spirited lot, besotted with vino and in danger of becoming victims of the opium habit. It is almost a physical impossibility completely to suppress the opium traffic because of the ease with which the drug is smuggled, but the vino traffic has been suppressed. The chief business on the Agusan River was formerly the transportation of vino up-stream. It is now the transportation down-stream of Manila hemp raised by the people of the valley.

The villages have been greatly improved and rendered reasonably sanitary. The best of them compare not unfavourably with some of the Bukidnon towns. The people improve, but radical improvement will not be in evidence until the next generation comes on.

Transportation facilities have been greatly increased by freeing several of the more important branches of the Agusan River from snags, and so opening them for launch navigation. Two good canals have been cut through the swamps, and communication by launch has thus been opened with the upper Agusan valley.

There is an industrial school for Manobo boys, and a number of the villages have primary schools.

Doubtless the most important single factor in improving the condition of the Manobos has been the establishment of a series of government shops at which they can sell their products for a fair price, and buy what they need so cheaply that it almost seems to them as if they were receiving presents.

Governor Frederick Johnston, who is largely responsible for these improved conditions, laboured ceaselessly to bring them about. At the outset he had no launch transportation and lived for weeks at a time in native canoes or bancas. He was fearless and tireless. When the time came for him to take long overdue leave I had no competent person to put in his place, and in deference to my wishes he continued at his post for nearly two years. At the end of that time it was found that one of his legs, which had been injured on an early exploring expedition, had become cancerous, and that immediate amputation was necessary. This made it impossible for him to continue his work, and crippled him for life. He had borne his trouble uncomplainingly, and I had not even known of its existence. Although a man of mature years, he bravely entered upon the study of medicine, hoping to prepare himself for a useful life, but the operation had come too late. Cancer reappeared, and for a year he was dying by inches. In a way I am responsible for it. Do you think he laid it up against me? You shall judge for yourselves.

He used to write a copy-book hand. Just before leaving Manila I received from him an almost illegible letter in which he economized words as if composing a cablegram. It brought the tears to my eyes. He said:--

"I thank you for your slavery book just received. If strength is left me to read it, I shall read it though I do nothing else in this life.

"I have had letter in preparation to you since last June but I haven't strength to sit at the machine. I expect now to die before New Year.

"I have offered surgeons to take all chances, but they decline to operate, stating that they would consider operation deliberate murder.

"This is first letter I write since last September. If I do not get strength to finish typewritten letter I have given instructions it be sent when I am dead. I cannot write with pen; I have tried it.

"If you hear no more, please remember I never forgot you. Sorry you leave the Secretariat--so sorry I can't tell you.

"I am ready to die. I know that I have lived unselfishly for what I thought was right and good, and death is nothing. If this should be the last, then accept from the man that was always your man and will be your man until he dies, a last Good-by."

A few days later he went to his reward.

The loyalty of such a man is a precious possession.

The lot of the non-Christian tribes inhabiting the regularly organized provinces is not a happy one. The township government act is applicable to their settlements, and the provincial officers have the same powers and duties with reference to them as have the corresponding officers in the special government provinces. In both cases these powers are exercised subject to the approval of the secretary of the interior, but in providing for the government of non-Christians in Christian provinces, we overlooked one very essential detail. Neither the secretary of the interior nor any one else has authority to compel the governors or provincial boards of these provinces to act. They have discovered that efforts to improve the condition of the ignorant and primitive peoples intrusted to their charge can be very effectively nullified if they merely sit still and do nothing, and almost with one accord they have adopted this policy. Exception should be made in favour of North Ilocos, South Ilocos, Pangasinán, Ambos Camarines, Iloilo and Zambales. No other provinces have made any real effort to help their non-Christian population, and the funds set aside by law to be expended for this end simply go on accumulating in their respective treasuries, as I have managed to convince them that efforts to divert such funds to purposes not authorized by law will not prosper. The law should be so amended as to provide that if provincial boards fail to act, the secretary of the interior may do so.

The organization of the Moro Province was provided for by an act passed on June 1, 1903. It is the largest single province in the Philippine Islands, including within its limits more than half of the great island of Mindanao with various small islands adjacent thereto, and Basilan, Joló, Siassi, Tawi Tawi, Sibutu, Cagayan de Joló and the very numerous other small islands stretching between Mindanao and North Borneo. It is divided into five districts, each with a district governor. The province has a governor, a secretary, a treasurer, an attorney, an engineer and a superintendent of schools.

The four officials first named constitute a legislative council the acts of which are subject to the approval of the Philippine Commission.

The province is allowed to expend the moneys accruing from the customs dues paid at Joló and Zamboanga, which are ports of entry, but is not fully self-supporting. The insular government pays for the Philippine constabulary serving there. Until within a very short time the provincial officials have been almost exclusively officers of the army of the United States. In my opinion this arrangement has been a bad one, not because of the character of the men who have done the work, many of whom were of exceptional ability and were admirably fitted for the performance of the duties which fell to their lot, but because no one of them has retained a given office long enough to carry a policy through to its logical conclusion and get the results which might thus have been obtained. Indeed, the lack of a fixed policy, combined with some unnecessary and unjustifiable killing, explain, in my opinion, the fact that the results accomplished have come far short of what might have been expected when one considers the splendid body of men from which the provincial officials have been drawn.

Noteworthy public improvements have been made in places like Zamboanga and Joló, but the country of the hill people, which ought to have been crisscrossed with trails long ere this, is still not opened up. Tribes like the Mandayas would, if given the opportunity, advance as rapidly as have the Bukidnons, but such opportunity has not been given to them to any considerable extent.

Having heard much of the Mandaya villages near Mati, I improved the opportunity to visit them in August, 1912, only to find to my amazement that the local constabulary officer, who ought to have been in the closest possible touch with these people, did not even know the way to their settlements. At another place where some 1400 hill people had been compelled to come down from their native mountains and settle in a village which could have been made a model of cleanliness, and should have been surrounded by rich cultivated fields, not half enough ground had been cleared to furnish food for the inhabitants, even under the most favourable circumstances. The houses were falling down; the streets were deep in mud; the garden patches were overgrown with weeds; more than half of the people had taken to the hills again in a search for food, and small blame to them! I found here as fine appearing a young constabulary officer as one could hope to meet, eating his heart out because he had nothing to do! Neither he nor any of his soldiers spoke the local dialect. He was supposed to be running a store, among other things, for the benefit of the hill people. I asked to see it, and it took him half an hour to find the key! In sixty minutes I could have set him work enough to keep him busy for three months. All that he needed was some one to direct him, but there was no one to do it. With the best intentions in the world he was using his soldiers to chase a lot of poor hill people back into a village where they ought never to have been asked to live. In other words, the Moro Province, having brought these people down and ordered them to settle on a site selected for them, had signally failed to back its own game. I myself would not think of trying to compel members of a wild tribe to live in any given place, unless it were necessary to do so in the interest of public order. Life in villages can, and should, be made so attractive to them that they will be glad to adopt it.

The Moros, with their fanatical religious beliefs and prejudices, present a very grave problem. Conditions have undoubtedly greatly improved in Davao, Cotabato and Zamboanga. I am not sufficiently familiar with affairs in the Lanao district to express an intelligent opinion concerning them. So far as concerns Joló, it is my opinion that things have come to a bad pass there; that life and property are not as safe to-day as they were during the early days of the American occupation, and that we have progressed backward for some time. However, Joló pirates have at least been pretty effectively kept off the sea, and that in itself is a very important result.

It is idle to suppose that the Moros can be subdued and made into decent citizens by throwing kisses at them. It was certain from the start that they would transgress. In my opinion, if we are to cure them of their evil tendencies, we must first warn them that they will be punished if they misbehave, and then make the warning come true. This has been done, but to another very important part of the programme which I deem essential to success, comparatively little attention seems to have been given. When people who have been punished for misbehavior have had enough they should be afforded a chance to quit, and indeed should be encouraged and helped to do so. No grudge should be borne for past misdeeds after the account has once been settled. Occasions have not been lacking in the Moro Province on which men have been treated with severity when they should have been treated with kindness.

In the Moro, native racial characteristics have been profoundly modified by religious beliefs. Men endowed with such magnificent courage as the Moro warriors often display certainly have their redeeming qualities. The same old policy that has won with the Ifugaos, Bontoc Igorots and Kalingas, and is winning with the wild Tingians and Ilongots, has been tried in dealing with the renegade Moros of Palawan with a considerable degree of success. It is my firm belief that it will work with the Moros of Mindanao, Basilan, Joló and Tawi Tawi, but substantial and permanent progress cannot now be anticipated for many years. The Moros must be given more than a square deal, or results will not differ essentially from those which have attended the efforts of Japan to subdue the hill people of Northern Formosa, or those of the Dutch to subdue the Achinese.

Recently nearly all of the army officers holding positions in the Moro Province have been replaced by civilians. This is a move in the right direction; not, I repeat, because the men thus displaced are incapable of achieving success if given the opportunity, but because continuity of policy is absolutely essential to success and is impracticable if the men charged with carrying out that policy are to be constantly changed. The next governor of the Moro Province should be a civilian and should be selected with the greatest care. He should be able, energetic, fearless, tireless and young. He should be kept in office for twenty years if he will stay so long. The task which awaits him is real man's work.

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