The following morning, before dawn, our hosts began to descend from their high regions, and we left our temporary abode, to make preparations for our departure. I had resided long enough at Laganguilan y Madalag; I was desirous of visiting Manabo, a large village, situated at a short distance from Laganguilan. I availed myself of the presence of the inhabitants of Manabo, who had come to assist at the Brain Feast—this was the appellation I had given to this savage fÊte—and I set out with them. Among the troop there was one who had spent some time among the Tagalocs; he spoke their language a little, and I knew it tolerably well. I profited by this fortunate occurrence, and during the whole of the way I conversed with this savage, and questioned him upon the habits, customs, and manners of his fellow-countrymen. One point particularly pre-occupied me. I was unacquainted with the religion of these people, so very curious to study. Until then I had seen no temple; nothing that bore resemblance to an idol; I knew not what God they worshipped. My guide, chatty for an Indian, gave me quickly every information necessary. He told me that the Tinguians have no veneration for the stars; they neither adore the sun, nor moon, nor the constellations; they believe in the existence of a soul, and pretend that after death it quits the body, and remains in the family. As to the god that they adore, it varies and changes form according to chance and circumstances. And here is the reason: When a Tinguian chief has found in the country a rock, or a trunk of a tree, of a strange shape—I mean to say, representing tolerably well either a dog, cow, or buffalo—he informs the inhabitants of the village of his discovery, and the rock, or trunk of a tree, is immediately considered as a divinity—that is to say, as something superior to man. Then all the Indians repair to the appointed spot, carrying with them provisions and live hogs. When they have reached their destination they raise a straw roof above the new idol, to cover it, and make a sacrifice by roasting hogs; then, at the sound of instruments, they eat, drink, and dance until they have no provisions left. When all is eaten and drank, they set fire to the thatched roof, and the idol is forgotten until the chief, having discovered another one, commands a new ceremony.

With regard to the morals of the Tinguians, my guide informed me that the Tinguian has generally one legitimate wife, and many mistresses; but the legitimate wife alone inhabits the conjugal house, and the mistresses have each of them a separate cabin. The marriage is a contract between the two families of the married couple. The day of the ceremony, the man and wife bring their dowry in goods and chattels; the marriage portion is composed of china vases, glass, coral beads, and sometimes a little gold powder. It is of no profit to the married couple, for they distribute it to their relations. This custom, my guide observed to me, has been established to prevent a divorce, which could only take place in entirely restituting all the objects that were contributed at the marriage by the party asking for divorce—a rather skilful expedient for savages, and worthy of being the invention of civilised people. The relatives thus become much interested in preventing the separation, as they would be obliged to restitute the presents received; and, if one of the couple persisted in requesting it, they would prevent him or her by making away with one of the objects furnished, such as a coral necklace, or a china vase. Without this wise measure, it is to be supposed that a husband, with mistresses, would very often endeavour to obtain a divorce. My fellow-traveller enlightened me upon all the points that I wished to investigate. The government, said he to me, after resting himself for a few minutes, is very patriarchal. It is the oldest man who commands.—As at LacedÆmonia, thought I, for there old age was honoured.—The laws are perpetuated by tradition, as the Tinguians have no idea of writing. In some instances they apply the punishment of death. When the fatal sentence has been pronounced, the Tinguian who has merited it must escape, if he wishes to avoid it, and go and live in the forests; for, the old men having spoken, all the inhabitants are bound to perform their orders. Society is divided into two classes, as with the Tagalocs, the chiefs and the commonalty. Whoever possesses and can exhibit to the public a certain number of china vases is considered a chief. These jars constitute all the wealth of the Tinguians. We were still conversing about the natives of the country when we reached Manabo. My guide had scarcely ceased talking all the way from Laganguilan.

My attention was now attracted by some flames that were issuing from under a cabin, where a large fire was burning. Around it many people were sitting, howling like wolves.

“Ah! ah!” said my guide, seemingly very pleased; “here is a funeral. I did not tell you anything about these ceremonies; but you will judge for yourself of what they are. It will be time enough to-morrow. You must be tired. I will take you to my day-cabin, and you may repose yourself without any danger of the Guinans, for a funeral compels a great many people to be on the watch all night.”

I accepted the offer made to me, and we took possession of the Tinguian cabin. It was my turn to take the first watch, and my poor Alila, a little more at his ease, fell into a sound sleep. I followed his example, after my watch, and we did not wake up until it was broad daylight.

We had scarcely finished our morning repast, composed of kidney-potatoes, palms, and dried venison, when my guide of the preceding day came to conduct me to the spot where the funeral of the deceased was about to take place. I followed him, and placing ourselves a few steps from the cortÉge, we assisted at a strange sight. The deceased sat in the middle of his cabin upon a stool; underneath him, and at his side, fires were burning in enormous chafing-dishes; at a short distance about thirty assistants were seated in a circle. Ten or twelve women formed another circle; they were seated nearer to the corpse, close by which the widow was also placed, and who was distinguished by a white veil, that covered her from head to foot. The women brought some cotton, with which they wiped off the moisture that the fire caused to exude from the corpse, which was roasting by degrees. From time to time one of the Tinguians spoke, and pronounced, in a slow, harmonious tone of voice, a speech, which he concluded by a sort of laugh, that was imitated by all the assistants; after which they stood up, ate some pieces of dried meat, and drank some basi; they then repeated the last words of the orator, and danced.

I endured—such is the word—this sight for an hour; but I did not feel courage enough to remain in the cabin any longer. The odour that exhaled from the corpse was unbearable. I went out, and breathed the fresh air; my guide followed me, and I begged him to tell me what had occurred from the beginning of the illness of the deceased.

“Willingly,” he answered me.

Delighted to breathe freely, I listened with interest to the following recital:

“When Dalayapo,” said the narrator, “fell sick, they took him to the grand square, to apply severe remedies to him; that is to say, all the men of the village came in arms, and, to the sound of the gong and the tom-tom, they danced around the sick man from the rising to the setting of the sun. But this grand remedy had no effect—his illness was incurable. At the setting of the sun they placed our friend in his house, and no more heed was paid to him: his death was certain, as he would not dance with his fellow-countrymen.”

I smiled at the remedy and the reasoning, but I did not interrupt the narrator.

“For two days Dalayapo was in a state of suffering; then, at the end of these two days, he breathed no more; and, when that was perceived, they immediately put him on the bench where we saw him just now. Then the provisions that he possessed were gathered together to feed the assistants, who paid him all due honours. Each one made a speech in his praise: his nearest relations began the first, and his body was surrounded with fire to dry it up. When the provisions are consumed, the strangers will leave the cabin, and only the widow and a few relations will wait until the body is thoroughly dried. In a fortnight’s time he will be placed in a large hole that is dug under his house. He will be put in a niche, or aperture, in the wall, where already his deceased relatives’ remains are deposited, and then all is over.”

This hole, thought I, must be similar to the one I went into the other night at Laganguilan.

The explanation that I had just received completely satisfied me, and I did not request to be present again at the ceremony. I resolved, since I was very comfortably seated, under the shade of a balÉtÉ, upon availing myself of the obliging disposition of my guide, to ask him to inform me, suddenly changing the conversation all the while, how his tribe managed to wage war on the Guinans, their mortal enemies.

“The Guinans,” said he to me, without drawing in any way on my patience, “wear the same arms as we do. They are neither stronger, nor more skilful, nor more vigorous. We have two modes of fighting them. Sometimes we give them a grand battle at mid-day, and then we meet them face to face, under a burning sun; at other times, during some dark night, we creep in silence to their dwelling-places, and if we be able to surprise any of them we cut off their heads, which we take away with us, and then we get up a feast, such as you have already witnessed.”

That word “feast” recalled to my mind the sanguinary orgie, or carousing, I had been present at, and particularly the share I had taken in it, so that I felt I was blushing and growing pale by turns. The Indian took no heed of it, and went on thus:

“In the grand battles all the men belonging to a village are compelled to take up arms, and to march against the foe. It is generally in the midst of a wood that the two armies meet. As soon as they come in sight of each other they set up crying and howling on both sides. Each man then rushes upon his enemy, and upon this shock depends the fate of the victory; for one of the armies is always panic-struck, and scampers away; then it is that the other pursues it, and kills as many as possible, taking care to preserve the heads, which they bring home with them.”1

“Why it is a hide-and-seek fight, the consequences of which are, however, very cruel,” I said. My Indian was of the same opinion, and rejoined:

“In general the conquerors are ever those who are cleverest in concealing themselves, in order to surprise their enemies, and who then dash on them bawling and howling.”

Here my guide stopped short, the fight having no longer any interest for him; and then, perceiving I questioned him no longer, he left me to myself, when I returned to my habitation and Alila, who was sick enough of Manabo. For my own part I had seen enough of the Tinguians, and besides I thought I had observed that they seemed not too well pleased with the long stay I had made among them. I passed over in my mind the brain feast, so I resolved upon leaving. I therefore went to take leave of the elders. Unfortunately I had nothing to offer them, but I promised them many presents, when I should get back among the Christians—and then I left them.

The satisfaction of my faithful lieutenant was at its height when we started for home. Not being disposed to go back by the same way I had come, I determined upon keeping more to the east, crossing over the mountains, and upon taking the sun as my guide. This road seemed preferable to me, inasmuch as I was about to traverse a country inhabited by a few Igorrots, that other species of the savage tribe I was not acquainted with. The mountains we crossed over were crowned with magnificent forests. Now and then we perceived lovely fertile valleys below our feet, and the grass was so high and thick-set, that it was with great difficulty we could pass through it. During our journey, my lieutenant kept a sharp look-out, wishing to kill some game for our support. As for myself, I was indeed far from thinking of the pleasure of shooting, so great was my contemplation of the admirable panoramic views that we met with every moment; and I was too much enraptured with the virgin and fruitful soil that spread itself so incommensurately around us to think even of eating. But my faithful Alila was less an enthusiast than I was myself: however, in return, he was more prudent. At the close of the day on which we started he killed a stag; so we halted on the brink of a stream, cut off some palm-tree strips, in guise of rice and bread, and set about eating the roasted liver of the animal. Our repast was truly a copious one. Ah! how often since that time, when seated before a richly served table—having before me delicious and recherchÉ viands, and that in dining-rooms where the atmosphere was balmy and perfumed by the aroma arising from the highly flavoured dishes—how often, I say, have I regretted the supper I partook of with Alila in the forest, after a day’s ramble on the mountains! Nay, what mortal could forget such hours—such places?

Our repast over, we made our bed of some branches we lopped off from the trees, and which we joined together on the very moist soil in the interior of the vast forest, and there we slept soundly till the morrow, without fear, and particularly without having any sombre or disagreeable dreams. At the dawn of day we were on foot again, all Nature seeming to wake up with ourselves. Oh! how fine and calm did she appear to us! The vapours that arose from her breast covered her all over with a veil, like a young virgin at her waking; and then this veil by degrees would break up into pieces, which pieces, gently balanced on the morning breeze, would disappear, and be lost on the tops of the trees or the summits of the rocks. On we walked for a long time, till at last, towards the middle of the day, we came to a small plain inhabited by the Igorrots. We found, in all, three cabins, or huts, so that the population was far from being large. At the door of one of these cabins I saw a man, of about sixty years of age, and a few women. As we had arrived from behind the huts we took the savages by surprise, so that they had no time to fly at our approach: we were in the midst of them.

I assumed the line of conduct I had pursued on arriving at Palan, but as I had no more coral beads or coloured glass, I presented them with a part of our stag, making them understand at the same time that we came with the most friendly intentions. From that moment there was established between us a very curious sort of mimic conversation, during which I was able to examine at my ease the new race of beings I saw around me. I perceived that the costume of the Igorrots was pretty nearly the same as that of the Tinguians, the ornaments excepted, but their features and physiognomy were quite different. The men were smaller, their breasts being exceedingly broad, their heads immensely big, their limbs developed, their strength herculean; their shape was not so handsome as that of the savages I had just left; their colour of a dark bronze, very dark indeed; their noses are less aquiline, their eyes yellow and fully open—a la Chinoise. The women’s shape was also very protuberant, their complexion dark, their hair long, and combed up—a la Chinoise. Unfortunately it was impossible for me, with all my mimicry, to obtain the information I wished for, so I was obliged to content myself with visiting the cabin, which was a real hut, having but the ground-floor. The surrounding parts were closed in by very thick piles, covered with a roof in the form of a bee-hive. There was but one issue, through which it was impossible to have either egress or ingress, except in crawling on all-fours. In spite of this difficulty I would see the interior of this Indian dwelling; so, having made a sign to my lieutenant to keep watch, I penetrated into the hut. The Igorrots seemed quite surprised at my so doing, but they made no opposition to it. I found myself within an obnoxious hole, or hovel, through a small opening in the summit of which the daylight peeped in and the smoke crept out. The floor was thickly covered with dust, and it was upon such a soft couch that the whole family laid down to rest. In one of the corners I perceived some bamboo lances, a few cocoa-nuts divided into two parts, so as to serve as cups, a heap of good-sized round pebbles, that were used in case of attack, and a few pieces of wood, of very common workmanship, that served as pillows.

I soon got out of such a den, from which I was driven by the nauseous smell it contained in its every part, but I had been able to see everything in it. I then inquired, by signs, of the Igorrot, the way I should go, in order to join the Christians. He fully understood me, showed me the road with his finger, and we then proceeded on our journey. As I journeyed on, I remarked here and there fields of patates and sugar-cane, which of course must have been the only husbandry of those miserable savages. After about an hour’s journey we were near running into a very great danger. On entering into a vast plain we saw an Igorrot, flying away as quickly as possible. He had remarked us, and I attributed his flight to fear, when suddenly I heard the sound of the tom-tom and gong, and saw, at the same time, twenty men armed with lances, rapidly advancing towards us. I felt that a fight was about to ensue, so I told my lieutenant to fire at the group, so as to injure none of them.

Alila fired: his bullet passed over the heads of the savages, who were so astonished at the detonation that they suddenly halted, and examined us attentively. I prudently took advantage of their surprise, and an immense forest presenting itself on our right, we entered it, leaving the village on our left, but the savages did not follow us into it.

During the whole of this scene my lieutenant did not utter a word. I had already remarked that when in presence of danger he became dumb, but when he had lost sight of the Igorrots his speech and loquacity returned to him.

“Master,” said he to me, in a very dissatisfied tone, “how I do regret not having fired directly into the middle of those miscreants!”

“And why so?” asked I.

“Because I am certain I should have killed one of them at least.”

“Well?”

“Well, master, our journey would not have terminated without our sending at least one soul of a savage to the devil.”

“Ah! Alila,” said I; “so you have become wicked and naughty, have you?”

“No, no, no, master,” replied he; “but I cannot conceive why you are so kind and compassionate to that infernal race. You, who pursue and persecute the Tulisans,2 who are a hundred times better than these wretches are, and who are Christians besides.”

“What!” cried I; “brigands, robbers, and assassins better than poor primitive beings, who have no one to guide and conduct them to the path of virtue!”

“Oh, master!” replied my lieutenant, and most sententiously this time; “Oh! the brigands, as it pleases you to call them, are in nowise what you think them. The Tulisan is not an assassin. When he takes away life it is only when he is compelled, in defence of his own, and if he do kill, why it is always de bon coeur.”

“Oh! oh!” said I; “and the robberies—how do you explain them?”

“If he rob, why it is only to get possession of a little of the superfluity of the rich, and that he divides among the poor—that’s all. Now, master, do you know what use the Tulisan makes of his plunder?”

“No, indeed, master Alila,” answered I, smilingly.

“Well, he keeps nothing of it for himself,” said my lieutenant, with great pride; “in the first place he gives a part of it to the priest, to have masses said for him.”

“Indeed! it is mighty edifying—go on.”

“And then he gives another part of it to his mistress, or bonne amie, because he loves her, and likes to see her finely dressed out; and as for the remainder, why, faith! he spends it among his friends. You may therefore see, master, that the Tulisan possesses himself of the superfluity of one person to satisfy several other persons with it.3 Oh! but he is far, very far indeed, from being so wicked as those savages, who kill you without saying a word to you, and then eat up your brains—fie!” And here Alila heaved a deep sigh, for the brain feast was ever present to his mind. His conversation so interested me, his system was so curious, and he himself so frank in drawing it out, that I almost forgot the Igorrots in listening to him.

We pursued our road through the wood, keeping as much as possible to the south, in order to get near the province of Batangas, where I was to meet my poor patient, who no doubt was very uneasy about my long absence. When I started I said not a word about my project, and had I done so it is most likely I should have been thought as no longer belonging to this world. The recollection of my wife, whom I had left at Manilla, and who was far from supposing me to be among the Igorrots, inspired me with the most anxious desire of returning home to my family as quick as possible. Absorbed in my thoughts, and carried away by my reflections, I walked silently along, without even casting a glance upon the luxuriant vegetation all around us. I must indeed have been very much pre-occupied, for a virgin forest between the tropics, and particularly in the Philippine islands, is in nowise to be compared with our European forests. I was aroused from my pensiveness, and recalled to the remembrance of my whereabouts, by the noise of a torrent, and I gratefully admired nature in her gigantic productions. I looked up, and before me I perceived an immense balÉtÉ, an extraordinary fig-tree, that thrives in the sombre and mysterious forests of the Philippines, and I stopped to admire it. This immense tree springs from a seed similar to the seed of the ordinary fig-tree; its wood is white and spongy, and in a few years it grows to an extraordinary size. Nature, who has had foresight in all things, and who allows the young lamb to leave its wool on the bushes for the timid bird to pick it up and build its nest with—Nature, I say, has shown herself in all her genius in the fig-tree of the Philippine islands, which grows so rapidly and so immensely. The branches of this tree generally spring from the base of the trunk; they extend themselves horizontally, and, after forming an elbow or curve, rise up perpendicularly; but, as I said before, the tree is spongy, and easily broken, and the branch, while forming the curve, would inevitably be broken, did not a ligament, which the Indians call a drop of water—goutte d’eau—fall from the tree and take root in the earth; there it swells, and grows in proportion with the size of the branch, and acts to it as a living prop. Besides which, around the trunk, and at a considerable distance from the ground, are natural supports, which rise up in points or spirals to about the middle of the trunk. Has not the Grand Architect of the world foreseen everything?

The appearance presented by the balÉtÉ is very frequently indescribably picturesque; and this is so true that, within a space of some hundred paces in diameter—which these gigantic fig-trees usually occupy—one may see by turns grottoes, halls, chambers, that are often furnished with natural seats, formed out of and by the roots themselves. No! no vegetation is more diversified, nor more extraordinary! This tree sometimes grows out of a rock, where there is not an inch of earth; its long roots run along the rock, encompass it, and then plunge into the neighbouring brook. It is indeed a masterpiece of nature—a chef d’oeuvre—which, however, is very ordinary in the virgin forests of the Philippine islands.

“Here,” said I to my lieutenant, “is a good spot for us to spend the night on.”

He recoiled some paces.

“What!” said he; “do you wish to stop here, master?”

“Certainly,” replied I.

“Oh! but you don’t see that we are in still more danger here than in the midst of the Igorrots!”

“And why, then, are we in danger?” asked I.

“Why? why? Do you not know that the Tic-balan dwells in the large balÉtÉs. If we stop here you may be very sure that I shan’t sleep a moment, and that we shall be tormented the whole night.”

I smiled, which my lieutenant perceiving:

“Oh! master,” said he, most dolefully, “what should we do with an evil spirit that fears neither bullet nor dagger?”

The terror of the poor Tagal was really too great for me to resist him, so I yielded, and we took up our quarters for the night at a place much less to my own taste, but much more to Alila’s. The night passed away like many others—I mean, perfectly well, and we woke up to resume our journey through the forest.

We had been walking about two hours, when, on leaving the wood, and entering on a plain, we met an Igorrot, mounted upon a buffalo, face to face. The encounter was somewhat curious. I levelled my gun at the savage: my lieutenant took hold of the animal by the long leather strap, and I made a sign to the Igorrot not to stir: then—always in my mimic language—I asked if he were alone. I understood from him that he was accompanied by no fellow-traveller, and that he was going northwards, in the opposite direction to our own. But Alila, who decidedly had a grudge against the savages, was most anxious to lodge a ball in this fellow’s head. However, I strenuously opposed such a project, and ordered him to let go the bridle.

“But, master,” said he, “allow me at least to see what these jars contain.”

Around the neck of the Igorrot’s buffalo were strung three or four jars, covered with leaves of the banana tree.

My lieutenant, without even waiting for my answer, applied his nose to them, and discovered, to his infinite satisfaction, that they contained a deer or stag ragout, which sent forth a certain perfume; so, still without consulting me, he undid the smallest of the jars, struck the buffalo a blow with the but-end of his gun, and, letting go the animal at the same time, exclaimed:

“Go, you rascal—go!”

The Igorrot, finding himself free, fled as quick as the beast could carry him, and we re-entered the woods, taking care to avoid the openings, for fear of being surprised by too large a number of savages.

Towards four o’clock we halted to take our repast. This wished-for moment was impatiently expected by my lieutenant, as the savage’s jar sent forth a very savoury smell. At last the desired moment arrived: we sat down on the grass. I stuck my poignard into the jar, which Alila had brought up to the fire, and I withdrew—an entire human hand!4 My poor lieutenant was as stupified as I was myself, so we remained a few minutes without saying a word. At last I gave a vigorous kick to the jar, and smashed it in pieces, so that the human flesh it contained was scattered over the ground, while still I held the fatal hand on the point of my dagger.

That hand horrified me; yet I examined it most carefully, and it appeared to me to have been the hand of a child of an Ajetas, a species of savages that inhabit the mountains of Nueva-Exica and MaribÈles, of which race I shall have an opportunity of speaking during the course of this work. I took some strips of palm-tree, roasted in the burning embers; Alila did the same, and we set out, not in the best of humours, in search of another resting-place for the night.

Two hours after sun-rise we issued from the forest and entered upon the plain. From time to time—that is, from distance to distance—we met with rice-fields, cultivated after the Tagal manner, and then did my lieutenant exclaim most joyously to me:

“Master, we are now in Christian ground.”

He was right; the road was becoming more easy. We followed on a narrow pathway, and towards evening arrived in front of an Indian cabin, at the door of which a young girl was sitting, while abundant tears trickled down her sorrowful countenance. I drew near her, and inquired into the cause of her grief. On hearing my question she rose up, and without replying to my queries, conducted us into the interior of the habitation, where we beheld the inanimate body of an old woman, whom we learned was the mother of the young girl; the brother of the latter had gone to the village in quest of the relations of the deceased, to aid them in transporting the corpse to its final destination.

This scene affected me very much. I did my best to console the poor young girl, and solicited hospitality for the night, which was instantly granted. To be in company with a dead body nowise affrighted me; but I bethought of Alila, so superstitious and so fearful with regard to ghosts and evil spirits.

“Well,” said I to him; “are you not afraid to spend the night near a corpse?”

“No, master,” replied he, courageously; “this dead person is a Christian soul, which, far from wishing us evil, will watch over us.”

I was really astonished at the answer of the Tagaloc, at his calmness and security: the rogue had his own motives for thus speaking to me. The Indian huts in the plains, are never composed of more than one room; the one we were in was scarcely large enough to hold us all four; however, we one and all managed as well as we could. The deceased occupied the back part; a small lamp, placed by her head, threw out a feeble light, and beside her lay the young Indian girl. I had established my quarters at a short distance from the bed of death, and my lieutenant was nearest the door, left open purposely to dispel the heat and foul air.

Towards two o’clock in the morning I was waked up by a shrill voice, and I felt at the same time that some one was passing over me, and uttering cries that soon were heard outside the cabin. I immediately stretched out my hand towards the place where Alila had lain down, but that place was empty; the lamp was out, and the darkness complete.

This made me very uneasy. I called to the young girl, who answered me that she had heard, like me, cries and noise, but she was ignorant of the cause. I snatched up my gun and sallied forth, calling out to my lieutenant; but to no purpose. No one answered; the stillness of death reigned all around. I then set out, walking over the fields at hazard, calling out now and then Alila’s name. I had not, perhaps, gone a hundred paces when I heard the following words, pronounced most timidly, proceeding from a tree by which I was passing:

“I am here, master.”

It was Alila himself. I drew nigh, and saw my lieutenant ensconced behind the trunk of the tree, and trembling like one of its leaves.

“What then has happened to you?” I inquired; “and what are you doing there?”

“Oh! master,” said he to me; “pray forgive me! Bad thoughts got the better of me; it was the young Indian girl inspired me with them, and the demon blew them into my inner man. I—I—I—drew nigh, during the night, to the young girl’s resting-place, and when I saw you fast asleep—I put out the lamp.”

“Well, and then—” said I, most impatiently and angrily.

“And then—I wished to take a kiss from the young girl; but, at the very moment I drew nigh, the old dead woman took her daughter’s place, so I only met with a cold and icy face, and at the same moment two long arms stretched out to seize upon me. Oh! it was then I gave such a cry—and I fled! fled! fled! but the old woman pursued me—yes, the corpse tracked me behind; and she has only just now disappeared, on hearing the sound of your voice. I then hid behind this tree, where you now see me, in a piteous plight.”

The fright of the Tagal and his mistake made me almost laugh out; but I severely reprimanded him for the bad intention he had of abusing the hospitality that had been so graciously afforded us: he repented, and begged of me to excuse him. He was, I should think, sufficiently punished by his fright. I wished to take him back to the cabin with me; but for no consideration would he return. I therefore left my gun in his charge, and went back to the house of mourning, where I found the poor young girl just as frightened as he was. I soon made her acquainted with the adventure; so thanking her for her kind hospitality, and morning coming on, I returned to Alila, who was most impatiently expecting me.

The hope of seeing soon again our relations, our homes, our friends, gave us new courage, and before sunset we arrived at an Indian village, without anything remarkable having taken place: this was to be our last stage.5

After this long and interesting journey I arrived at Quingua, a village in the province of Boulacan, where I had left my friend in convalescence.