Every wild country, it appears, has its favorite soporific, and in the Philippines the fruit of the areca palm is a necessity to most of the natives, just as opium is to the average East Indian, but it is far less deleterious. The manner of its use is as follows: A slice of the nut is wrapped in a buyo leaf, covered with lime, made from oyster shells, and then chewed. The whole is called betel, and the betel-eater is constantly spitting what seems arterial blood; this, together with the sanguinary appearance of his gums, teeth, and lips, makes him disgusting to contemplate.

The areca palm for its nut, and the buyo palm for its leaf, are carefully and extensively cultivated. The latter must be used fresh, and quantities of the green leaves are sold in the markets daily. The effects of betel-chewing seems to be similar to that of the coca of Peru; in moderation, the stimulus to the stomach is excellent; and in both cases it is possible to labor for hours without food, if only the native—Philippine or Peruvian—has an ample supply of his favorite drug. Temperate use of either is positively beneficial. Abuse, in both cases, produces delirium and death.

There are nearly one thousand warehouses and retail shops in Manila for the sale of the areca nut, or for the fresh buyo leaf and lime necessary in its preparation; or for the slices wrapped and ready for immediate use. The buyo leaf is hot to the taste. When bruised and placed on the wound it is an antidote to the bite of the most venomous snakes. It is useful in cholera; and water in which the leaf has been steeped, is used by mothers as an outside application in cases of infant colic.

The nipa palm looks like a gigantic fern. It grows in swamps, and its leaves are deemed invaluable for the thatching of native huts. A tall grass, called cÓgon, is also used for this purpose. From the fruit-stalks of the nipa a wine is distilled that is a Government monopoly; and the art of manufacturing brandy from sugar-cane seems to be aboriginal. The inhabitants of the most distant islands and provinces have a patient, slow, inglorious way of making their favorite drink. The fermented juice is boiled in four-gallon jugs; the steam then escapes through bamboo pipes, is cooled, and condensed by a primitive arrangement overhead, running water passing through a hollow log,—and the liquor falls into another large stone jug. It is extremely strong and pure, and small quantities of the drink are not unhealthful. The natives of the Philippines, as I have said so often, hate to trouble themselves about anything, and are impatient of slow processes; they will, however, take infinite pains in the distillation of sugar-cane brandy. The rewards, though slow, are definite, enchanting, and, above everything else, personal.

The fruits of the Philippines include many varieties well-known in American markets,—bananas, shaddocks, oranges, lemons, citrons, and pineapples. Others are the usual ones found in the tropics, and nowhere else; and none is to be compared to the apple, peach, grape, cherry, and strawberry of the temperate zone.

The durian, however, is extremely luscious. It is large as a pineapple, and has a delicious white pulp. It requires a great deal of courage to open it, as the rough outside-skin has a monstrous odor of decaying flesh.

The favorite fruit is the mango. Of this, quantities are partaken daily in the season.

Guava, from which jelly is made, grows wild.

The pawpaw tree also grows wild, and is valuable to the natives. The bruised leaves exude a saponaceous liquid, that is used in the washing of clothes, and has the cleansing effect of soap. The fruit is cooling, but tasteless. It is said to contain pepsin, and is used by invalids with weak digestion.

Bananas are both wild and cultivated; seventy-seven varieties are found on the islands. The fruit is a staple article of food; and a cloth is woven from the fibre that natives make up into garments. A coarse paper is also made of it.

A native cannot own land. He may hold it under certain conditions. What these are in the tobacco districts has been stated. The regulations outside these districts are as follows:—

He must plant useful trees, suitable to the soil; raise wheat, rye, maize, vegetables, cotton, pepper; maintain every species of appropriate cattle; keep fruit growing in his orchards and around his house; have at least twelve hens, one cock, and a sucking pig. Failing in these impossible conditions, the land may be confiscated at the end of two years.

The missionaries have always helped the natives to divide their farms, plan their cultivation, and garner their harvests; they introduced the useful maize and wheat, as well as melons and garden-truck—peas, beans, cucumbers, onions, and other vegetables. Potatoes are very much in demand, but, so far, have not been successfully cultivated; being literally what the Americans call “small potatoes and few in a hill.”

Cotton is cheaply produced, and in quantities sufficient to supply the domestic trade. There is no reason why it should not be made a matter of large foreign export.

Indigo plants grow in the wildest luxuriance throughout the Philippines. Owing to the richness of the soil but little labor is required in their cultivation, and annual returns are expected of 50 per cent. on the capital employed. There are people now living magnificently in Paris and Madrid that owe their revenues to indigo plantations in the colony; the Alvarado family, for instance, whose immense estate is on the island of SÁmar, and whose income from this source is nearly $55,000 a year.

There was once a prejudice against Manila indigo among European purchasers. This, however, has been removed by improved processes and greater care on the part of growers and manufacturers. The crops are not so certain as those of hemp, tobacco, or coffee. They are likely also to be injured by hurricanes and eaten by caterpillars. Nevertheless, the estate-owners seem to flourish.

Cocoa and chocolate are the product of the cacao tree, introduced early in the history of the islands by missionaries from Mexico. The fruit is red in color and shaped like a large cucumber. The beans, or kernels, are arranged in regular rows through the pulp, varying in size and in number. They average twenty to the single fruit, and generally have the size, and always the appearance, of almonds, with hard skins. They are also very bitter. Whether dried in the sun or roasted in ovens, the process must be done as soon as the fruit is gathered, else the flavor of the kernel is injured. The beans are very oily, and in manufacturing cocoa much of the fat is extracted. This makes the drink more suitable for children and invalids.

To make chocolate, the beans are dried, the skins removed, and the mass is pounded in a mortar, then placed upon a rolling board and rolled. Quantities of sugar are added to neutralize the bitterness of the kernel, with vanilla to give the whole flavor. This makes a paste that is a great favorite with all classes of Spaniards and natives, both as a confection and when made into a beverage; yet but little more of the fruit is grown on the islands than is necessary for home consumption. The dried bean is safe as an export, but the cacao tree has many enemies; and when the crop has come to ripening, in spite of threatened disease and destroying vermin, it may be ruined by a tempest in a single hour. These vicissitudes discourage the planter, who seldom tries to do more than secure enough of the cacao bean for family use. The trees are usually planted in gardens near the house, and the chocolate-paste is made at home. A small quantity of the bean is sent annually to Spain; and there is a chocolate factory in Manila for the benefit of those that do not care to trouble themselves with either the growth of the fruit or the preparation of the kernel. The oil of the cocoa is used also for lighting the houses and streets.

It is impossible to find better chocolate than that made by the friars of the Philippines. Special pains are taken with the cacao tree, which is planted in the orchards and gardens of the monasteries, and in the manufacture of the paste and in the making of the beverage. Care must be used in the selection of soil and locality; the tree must be shaded by the taller banana; the planter must be able to risk the loss of an occasional harvest, caused by vermin, disease, or tempest; and in good years the planter will get a return of 90 per cent. on his capital. The fact remains, however, that few colonists are willing to take chances in a crop, that, at the last minute, can be easily ruined.

The Philippine Islands are rich in growths that would seem strange to an American—edible birds’-nests, roots, nuts, grasses, fruits, and the like. The bird’s nest is sold in large quantities to the Chinese, who make a soup of it,—nauseous, indeed, to foreigners. It is built by a little creature resembling the swallow; is pasty-white in appearance, dotted with red spots. The nests are found high up, in almost inaccessible caves, on cliffs above the sea. Nest-gathering is an occupation by itself, very dangerous, and followed by natives of only extreme hardihood and agility. The birds are robbed of their nests as soon as they are completed, and this first gathering is sold to the Chinese at enormous prices. The bird patiently builds another home, and is again despoiled. The second gathering, however, is deemed second-class in the market; and the third gathering is even more inferior. And ’tis only the approach of the rainy season that protects the bird in the laying of its eggs and in the care of its young.