OUR ISLANDS AND THEIR PEOPLE.
then scurried off, howling, into the bamboo thickets nearby. There were everywhere, in profusion, earthenware jars and dishes and ladles made of cocoanut shells with wooden handles.
a In a few huts were still some women, with now and then an old man coughing with consumption. Perhaps the cough was partially affected, for these old fellows cannot be trusted, so each one had to open his meager clothing to show he had no weapons. Every house was rigorously searched until we came to one where on the floor lay a child of six or seven with the small-pox, and that house was hastily left.
a But it was growing late, and, as we were a mile and a half from our pickets, it was necessary to return to camp, Going down the street we met an old man and woman returning to their home
from some place of hiding. As we stopped them to search their clothing and bundles, we must have frightened the poor old things terribly, for while he worked hard at his cough she jabbered and cried and apparently begged, expecting I know not what fate at our hands. When I told them they might go, the poor old creature dropped on her knees beside the road and cried and bowed her head to the ground to me again and again, and I came away, leaving her there in the desolation of howling dogs and deserted huts, hoping she might find her own shelter still standing.
a On the road back the same scenes were passed, but the light had faded. Here and there smoldering bamboo glowed and flickered where humble but happy homes had stood that morn-
ing, and another page had been turned on the old and dreadful story of war.a
By the side of the foregoing picture let us place this one, selected from a letter written recently from Manila by the distinguished correspondent, Mr. Frank G. Carpenter:
a We hear in America much about the dirt and savagery of the people of Manila. So far, I have seen none of it. The people are far more cleanly than the Chinese. Even the poorest of them wear clean clothes and the most of the costumes are white. In many respects the 1 ipinos are like the Japanese, or rather more like the Burmese, both of whom are noted for their cleanliness and frequent bathing. Among the women on the streets you see many who wear their hair down their backs to their waists. My guide,
a Thomas-a-Becketa a he says his name is Becketa tells me this is because they are fresh from the bath and that they go about so to let their hair dry. He says there are swimming baths for women in the city and that he himself takes a plunge in the canal near his home every morning.
a As to savageness, the people seem to me more civilized than any of the Malay races I have yet seen. They are far more good-natured and friendly than the natives of the Straits Settlements. They appear to be fond of one another, and I see men and boys going along with hands joined. The women go in pairs, as a rule, and all laugh and chat as they move along together. There is no scowling at the foreigner, as in China, and if they really hate the Americans they do not show it in their faces.a
The Filipino women are very industrious, and labor with the men in nearly all their avocations. The soldiers quartered at San Fernando, Luzon, were supplied with bamboo cots of native manufacture, and, these being let out by contract, whole families engaged in the work and labored assiduously until it was completed. A soldier stationed at that place describes how it was done, in the following interesting style:
a All the posts of the main guard are supplied with cots of bamboo, made by the native wrorkmen. One contract alone called for 1,000, to be supplied in five days. We were a busy community while that contract was being filled. Everywhere was to be seen the half-clad workmen, working only with primitive chisels and even more primitive saws and a bolos.a In America a bolo would be called an exaggerated butcher-knife. They began early and worked late. Worked in the rain or worked in the broiling sun that at intervals streamed down through the broken rain clouds. Ate where they worked and slept where they ate. Their women carried great bamboo poles from the thickets to the roadside; brought fire-pots and kettles of earthenware from their miserable huts and cooked great bowls of rice, with handfuls of tiny minnows, caught in the nearby stream by the small fry of the family; or, a cot completed, Mrs. Macabebe lifted it, and, balancing it on her head, tucked up her scanty skirts and splashed down the muddy street to the quartermastera s store-yarda and the contractor, not the workman, was credited writh fifty cents. One cot was a daya s work for a whole family, and it is to be supposed that the contractor made a bit out of the transaction. The Philippine Islands, it will be understood, are not the place for an American carpenter, unless he can quickly learn to live on rice, shrimps, mangoes and other fruits, never wear shoes and withal work sixteen hours a day. There will be no one houra s lay-off for dinner, with a long, quiet smoke in the shade while waiting for the 1:00 oa clock whistle to blow; but he will need to smoke as he works, and n^ed also to eat hastily with fingers,
A prominent officer of the army cf the Philippine Republic.