An Epoch in History | Page 4

so remote that for six months no fresh supplies
could be gotten! A mass meeting was held at once, and a committee
was appointed to send a cablegram to the Associated Press petitioning
aid from the American people at large. Realizing what consternation
would be created throughout the United States by such a message, two
of the teachers leaped into a carriage at the close of the meeting and a
few moments later were closeted with the chief executive of the
department. As a result the committee was persuaded not to send the
cablegram to the Associated Press until by courtesy it had been sent to
the President. Of course, this diplomatic move tided affairs over and
the teachers who had flatly refused to budge from Manila now agreed
to go on to their stations, being assured that whatever action was best
would be taken.
The day had come when we must separate. We were to enter an untried
and an unknown field. It was fitting that we have a final joyous meeting,
so the best orchestra in the archipelago was engaged and we "chased
the hours with flying feet" until dawn so that whatever might come to
us in that unknown future upon which we were entering each would
hold in pleasant memory our last evening together.
CHAPTER III.
A DRAMA IN ACTUAL LIFE.
Almost every one heeded the warning to go to his station forearmed
with at least necessaries of life, but, as it had never fallen to the lot of
the writer to cook, he refused to learn at that late day, so he took no pot,
no pan, no kettle, putting his future into the hands of an uncertain fate

and relying upon the unknown hospitality of the Filipino.
Bacalod, the capital of the province of Occidental Negros, was our
destination. The second morning after leaving Manila, we awoke with
the "Kilpatrick" lying at anchor in a shallow bay. We were several
miles from the shore and nothing in sight indicated that we had reached
a place of any importance. Late the night before we had been awakened
by the loud, sharp ringing of the ship's bells, accompanied by the
reversal of the engines and a general disturbance awaking the crew. So
our first impressions on coming on deck were that we had run aground.
But the captain assured us that everything was ship-shape and that this
was the nearest point of approach to Capiz, a town of considerable
importance on the island of Panay, where a body of troops was to
embark for home. Not even the grass hut of a native was in sight.
Search as we would, not a sign was seen of a stream flowing into the
sea, indicating the probable presence of a town. There was not a sign of
life of any kind save one lone column of thin, blue smoke that arose
from the side of a mountain miles away. One would have thought that
we were explorers of three hundred years ago lying off the shore of
some unknown land.
After breakfast the steam launch, together with all the boats, was
lowered, and several of us who had determined to miss no opportunity
to gather information about the islands took our places in the launch by
the side of the ship's mate, and steamed away across the water with a
long line of boats strung out in the rear. We headed away toward a
group of cocoanut trees, and about an hour later stepped ashore on a
pile of decayed coral rocks that extended some twenty or thirty feet out
into the water, thus forming the only landing place of a town of several
thousands of people and of considerable commercial importance. A few
moments after we had landed, an army wagon drawn by a magnificent
pair of mules came up out of a tropical jungle along a narrow road. We
clambered into the wagon and were soon lost in the depths of foliage
from which we had just seen the vehicle emerge.
Long waving bamboos with their plumy leafage hung over the road
from each side, meeting and overlapping in the center until they formed

an archway so dense that the tropical sun now high in the heavens
penetrated it only at intervals. At times the wagon sank up to the hubs
in the soft earth, and the muscles of the mules stood out like whip-cords
under the skin as they drew us forward.
At a sharp turn in the road we came upon the first division of troops
that was to embark for home. The look of joy upon their sun-browned
faces was inexpressible. Their work was done, and with elastic step and
smiling faces they saluted us as they passed by. The reign of force was
at