Vol.XLIV.

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FTER Captain Pershing had smashed the forts of the Sul

tan of Bacolod, he came to the Agus river, opposite Pantar, Mindanao, a distance of fifteen miles, for supplies and a day's rest.

Seated beneath the tent-fly in the cool of the declining day, he recounted the events of the march from Vicars, describing, with words all too few, the reduction of the Moro stronghold. The work was well done and the officers and men were given credit for it.

It should be known that the campaign had been unsought, unprovoked by him. Had the Sultan refrained after repeated admonitions, from his vulgar tirades and defiant threats, to murder any Americans passing through his territory, he would have been spared the humiliation which befell him.

In the meantime he was working his slaves night and day in the moats and on the parapets. The most strenuous efforts were being made to render the cottas impregnable. Nor was this all. His runners were busy conveying messages calculated to poison the minds of dattos of other sultanates, assuring them that he could not be dislodged, while he bragged of his ability to feed the remains of Pershing and his soldiers to the wild boar. The game failed, as double games are prone among both savage and civilized

men.

Bullard secured two translations of the letter sent him, but accepted its declarations with large grains of salt, though deeming the matter of sufficient importance as to justify an official wire. It was clear that the Sultan of Bacolod was already spelling out the writing on the wall. on precisely the same ground. Not one of our men had been killed along a route that had cost the Spaniards a thousand lives to traverse. Behind logs, banks and stumps, our men had gathered hatfulls of empty Mauser shells ejected by Castillians when they were sorely pressed by the Moros. tall pole, feathered and fluttering with cotton drilling, resembling a huge quill pen, stub set in the ground, proclaims the loss of a cherished son. All such tokens are necessarily perishable, while the resting places of those who departed a few years since are wholly neglect

Bullard replied that the "way was open for any Moro to make known his friendship to the Government of the United States. He must possess but one tongue and talk straight. If the Sultan had two tongues, he possessed one too many. Americans are not double-tongued; they talk to all Moros the same way; they prefer to help the Moros rather than hurt them, but Moros must not wait too long nor impose too far upon good nature."

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Perhaps the destruction of the forts at Bacolod could have been further delayed by temporizing policy, already too long enjoined; but that destruction was as ultimately inevitable as that a cool dawn is followed by a hot day in the tropics.

Among the slain of Bacolod sultans and dattos were recognized, but the author of the trouble had escaped under cover of the night.

He lived to fight another day. He sought new fields and pastures green on the east shore, along which in due time the robust "regular" trudged upon a missionary errand in his behalf.

Now we were not a little curious, after the Bacolod column had departed on the return to Vicars, to know just what effect the campaign would have upon important engineering work then in progress in the vicinity of Pantar. Hundreds of Moro laborers were finding employment at good wages on the military road as graders and timber cutters. Would the dattos recall all these and bestow them armed in ambush along the trails frequented by our men?

Apart from having our camps shot into, an occasional soldier hacked with krises, sentinels attacked at night, and hunting parties assailed, while in request of boar or deer, we had enjoyed remarkable exemption from trouble with these disciples of Mahomet. We had done more in six months than the Spaniards had been able to accomplish in six years

It was now necessary that we should touch the pulse and take the temperature of our neighbors.

Accordingly Captain James A. Ryan, commanding troop C. 15th Cavalry, an officer well and favorably known to the chiefs of the Bayabaos, was directed to make a reconnoissance into unvisited territory and call en route going and coming at any cotta or dwelling he might choose.

Lieutenant Charles Burnett was soon busy with the details of preparation. Surgeon Godfrey, a chaplain and a hospital attendant were taken along for service in the event of "accidents." We quitted Pantar early next morning. Our horses, stripped of everything but halters, were put into the Agus river much against their will. They knew what it meant to swim in such a stream. They had scarcely got beyond their depth when the current swept them some distance below; they came out on the "home side" and frisked merrily back to camp.

A second attempt was successful. After officers, men and equipments had been ferried across in bancas, we were soon on our way. The air was cool, the sky slightly overcast, the spirit of adventure, a darling passion, was awake in horses and men alike.

Our course lay over grassy hills toward the southwest. It soon became evident that Moros were observing our movements from hills and lookouts. We were greeted with salutations by a datto, who invited us into his casa to partake of boiled eggs. The eggs might not be like Caesar's wife, but he wisely knew that other kinds of food were not,

ed.

The datto of the particular plantation at whose dwelling we had arrived was invited to accompany us through the valley. He assured us that no American had ever explored it; he had no authority from the Sultan to lead Americans into it; besides he had no horse and was too old to walk.

Captain Ryan pointed to a herd of ponies grazing in the bottom. He quickly replied through our interpreter: "Those are all mares; my stallions are at the lake; to ride a mare is contrary to Moro custom." At this juncture two substantial specimens of the Moro race stepped out and volunteered to act as guides. One of these we kept with us, the other at his own request was permitted to precede us at full speed afoot to apprise the people of our approach upon a purely friendly mission. The runner remarked as he left that he would tell the 'women to keep quiet and not become frightened." We instructed him to convey our best regards to the ladies.

Then we were given an exhibition of the staying powers of a Moro messenger. He struck a trot which would have delighted longdistance pedestrians. Disappearing over a rolling elevation, he was not again seen until he emerged at a bend of the trail far up the valley. In the meantime our horses had been swinging along at

walk.

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brisk

We came to a large sweet-potato patch enclosed with a hard-wood fence-"pig tight." The owner, not content with securing his crop by means of the best fence that he could make, had set traps at every rod

suspending heavy sections of bamboo. These devices were sprung by a vine attached to each and running from hut to every point outside the field. These extraordinary precautions were taken against wild boar with which the Moro is unable to cope. The flesh of swine your Mahommetan fellow-citizen will not eat. He possesses few guns and no ammunition that he can afford to waste upon animals other than those classified as genus homo.

The kris, campilan and barong are made exclusively for carving his neighbors who may fall under his displeasure. Family feuds are very common. He would not think of "sticking a pig" with these emblems of authority and badges of rank; besides, the boar is armed in his own right with tusks capable of bringing matters to pass. As overtaker and undertaker the wild boar of Mindanao has won respect. To bury a dead hog with a defunct Moro is to cut off a soul from the eternal joys of the heavenly harem.

When a herd of boars attacks the trap-protected fence the vines are jerked, and the bamboos fall with a resounding whack. The animals are not hurt in the least-simply scared away. The traps are again set and a slave renews his watch.

Arriving at a village guarded by a cotta I first peeped into the "Mosque," a mere shed, whose single "sacred" emblem was a large suspended tom-tom made of wood and carabao hide, upon which is beaten the refrains of the nasal discords which answer for music. The gate of the cotta was wide open. A deep ditch, an adobe wall ten feet high, out of which grew an impenetrable bamboo thicket, in which lantacas (small brass cannon) were secreted, afforded protection to the datto's casa, within which women and children swarmed.

The patriarch of the place, with all his advisers, warriors and assembled slaves coming out, with great seeming cordiality urged us to enter the fort and tarry for refreshment. His numerous wives and still more numerous children were in high glee. There could be no doubt that our coming was the one novel event of their lives.

The belle of the village was to be seen; she was also for sale. I did not get the figures, though I understood that the datto had cut the catalogue price fifty per cent in honor of our visit. There were no bids. The belle smiled as sweetly as a Moro belle can smile, considering her natural limitations. Assuring our new-made friends that we had still many calls to make ere the day was done, we changed our course, having explored the region as far as practicable on horse-back. Not being able to ascertain that the valley had any general designation, it was proposed in honor of the commanding officer of this reconnoissance that his name be hereafter associated with it.

Turning southeast we picked up the Spanish trail at the base of the long ridge which cuts off a view of the Lanao region from the Pantar basin.

The first glimpse gained of Lake Lanao is impressive when one recalls the utter rout of General Corcuera in the year of 1641, after fighting for two years to subdue the Malanaos in a vain endeavor to hold the country for the crown of Spain.

For a period of two hundred and fifty years thereafter the lake men were left to pursue unmolested the savage tenor of their way. Thousands of lives have been lost by invaders and defenders along these shores. At Marahui, the Sultan, with the usual retinue of dattos, rajah-mudas and panditas about him, bid us welcome as we dismounted near the water's edge.

Pershing had left there during the morning hours of the day before. Marahui-ites were stunned by the disaster at Bacolod. The Sultan was loth to discuss it. He had arrived at Bacolod while the fight

was on; he had been an eye witness to the work of the mountain guns; he had been moved by the impetuosity of the soldiers as they carried