They Were Manly Little Fellows, With The
Faces Of Cherubs, And They Were Always Smiling.
Though the ages of my
five little favourites, Camilo, Nicolas, Fernando, Dranquilino and
Victorio, ranged only from eleven down to seven (the latter being
little smiling-faced Victorio), they did all my errands for me,
bought me little rolls of sweetish bread, eggs and fruit, and were
most honest.
They talked to me as if they had known me all their
lives, acted as my guides and showed me all there was to see. They
generally followed me in a row, with their arms round each other's
neck in a most affectionate way, and I never heard any of them use
one angry word amongst themselves. The few days that I spent here,
I wandered through the narrow lanes and collected a few birds and
butterflies. These lanes were very dusty at the time, and were hemmed
in with an uninteresting shrubby growth on each side. The country round
Florida Blanca was for the most part covered with rice-fields, which,
at the time of my visit, were parched and covered with short stubble,
this being the dry season. I was not very successful in my collecting,
and looked forward to my visit to the mountains, which I could see
in the distance, and which appeared well covered with damp-looking
forests. I noticed quantities of white egrets, which settled on the
backs of the water buffaloes. I would often pass these water buffaloes
with their heads sticking out of a way-side pond of mud and water. They
were generally used for drawing the curious wagons of the country,
which were rather like those one sees in Mexico, with solid wooden
wheels. Generally when I met these water buffaloes out of harness,
they were horribly afraid of me and stampeded, at the same time making
the most extraordinary noises, something between a squeak and a short
blast on a penny trumpet. They are usually stupid-looking brutes,
but this showed that they were intelligent enough to distinguish
between me and a Filipino. The pigs here had three pieces of wood
round their necks fastened together to form a triangle, an excellent
idea, as it prevented them from breaking through the fences. The day
following my arrival was a Sunday, and the church, a large building
of stone and galvanized iron, was almost opposite the American's
house. I watched the people going to early mass (the Filipinos are
devout Roman Catholics). All the women wore gauzy veils thrown over
their heads, white or black were the prevailing colours and sometimes
red. I thought they looked very nice in them. I had asked Camilo to
boil me some water, but he begged off very politely, as he had to
go and put on his cassock and surplice to attend the service in the
church, where he sang all alone. When he returned, I asked him to
sing to me what he had sung in the church, and he at once complied,
singing the "Gloria Patri" in a very clear and sweet voice. After mass
was over, the church bell began to toll and an empty lighted bier
came out of the church. It was preceded by three acolytes bearing
a long cross and two large lighted candlesticks, and followed by a
crowd of people. They were no doubt going to call at a house for the
corpse. Shortly afterwards an old Filipino priest came out and got
into one of the quaint covered buffalo wagons with solid wooden wheels
(already mentioned), and drove slowly round by the road. It was hot
and sultry, and thunder was pealing far away in the mountains. Under
a clump of trees (of a kind of yellow flowering acacia), which grew
just outside the large old wooden doors of the church, there was
a group of village youths and loafers, and two or three men went
past with their fighting cocks under their arms, Sunday afternoon
out here being the great day for cock-fighting. There seemed to be
a sleepiness in the air quite in keeping with the day of the week,
and I was nearly dozing off when little Nicolas came in. I asked him
if he knew where the cook-fighting took place, and added, "you savez"
(slang for understand"). His eyes flashed, and he said, Me no savage,"
but when I explained that I did not call him a "savage," his eyes,
smiled an apology, and he willingly offered to show me the place
where the cock-fighting was to be.
On entering the large bamboo shed or theatre where the cock-fighting
took place, I was met by the old Presidente of the village, to
whom I had brought a letter from Governor Joven (the Governor of
the province), whom I had visited at Bacolor on my way hither. He
conducted me to a seat on a raised clay platform, and sat next to me
most of the time, but as the fighting progressed he got very excited,
and had to go down into the ring. I had often witnessed it before
in tropical America, but here the left feet of the cocks were armed
with large steel spurs shaped like miniature cutlasses, which before
the fight began were encased in small leather sheaths. The onlookers
worked themselves up into a state of great excitement, and there was
a great deal of chaff, mixed with angry words, and plenty of silver
"pesos" were exchanged over the results. But it was cruel work,
and the crouching spectators were often scattered right and left by
the furious birds, whilst on one occasion a too venturesome onlooker
received a rather severe gash on his arm.
The church clock here was a thing to wonder at. It had no dial, and
struck only about five times a day. When it struck ten there was an
interval of over twenty seconds between each stroke until the last
two strokes, these coming quickly together, as if it was tired of
such slow work!
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