In the morning our scientific fishermen were rewarded for their patience. They had a bite, and everyone on board watched with interest the heavy machinery as it slowly and steadily pulled the sea end of the cable out of the water. It was hooked at half after eight, and not until an hour later was it landed, the dynamometer showing a strain at times of from one to two tons.

Immediately after getting the cable on board, Cagayan was called over and over again without response, which would have indicated that the trouble was farther out at sea, had not tests shown the resistances were what they should have been, from which it was easily inferred that the operator at Cagayan was not attending strictly to business. "Gone to Sunday school, probably!" ironically observed the Powers-that-Be, chewing the end of an unlighted cigar, as he always did when worried, and, Sunday though it was, we felt the sarcasm to be a just one, Sunday schools not being a chief industry of Cagayan.

Reasoning on the premise that all was right at that end of the line, the splice was made, and we paid out the cable until reaching the buoyed sh.o.r.e end, which in turn was spliced to the deep-sea cable, and the bight dropped overboard. Then a Signal Corps man returning from sh.o.r.e reported all communicating lines in good order, at which there was great rejoicing on board the _Burnside_, and, our Cagayan friend having condescended meanwhile to communicate with us, we were soon under way for Zamboanga, Mindanao.

The next day was a perfect one for sailing, and eventful, in that while turning over cable the long objurgated fault in the tanks came to light, proving to be the result of carelessness on the part of the manufacturer, a carelessness which had caused much agony of mind to the Signal Corps, and many groans and imprecations from all concerned. But at last the fault was cut out, and a nice healthy splice subst.i.tuted by the reparative surgery which has been so often mentioned.

It seemed such a small thing, the fault, only a little break in the armour wire, and yet it had induced the most severe nerve paralysis in that sentient thread of copper in the cable's centre. "Words and words of men" could not "flicker and flutter and beat" until the wound had been healed, which was promptly done, accompanied by vigorous language concerning the aforesaid careless manufacturer.

Chapter VII

ZAMBOANGA

Zamboanga! The very name brings back our first daylight glimpse of Mindanao's princ.i.p.al town--an adorable water-colour sketch, what with the soft, deep blue of sky and sea, the tropical freshness of green foliage, amidst which nestled picturesque white houses with overhanging balconies, the red and blue sails on the sunlit water, and to the right of the picture an old Spanish fort, gray and stern and forbidding.

This old fort, aside from its undoubted pictorial charm, is historically interesting, in that it is a relic of the seventeenth century and of those first Spanish governors, martially ambitious, who stirred up wars with the Moros for their own personal aggrandizement, wars which have been protracted through two b.l.o.o.d.y centuries.

Indeed, the history of Spain's occupation of the islands is but a repet.i.tion of wars with the Mohammedans, religious wars, perhaps, at the very first, for the sixteenth century Spaniard was no less fanatical in his religion than is the Moro of to-day; and later, wars for the presumable abolishment of slavery, though we are told by Foreman that "Whilst Spaniards in Philippine waters were straining every nerve to extirpate slavery, their countrymen were diligently pursuing a profitable trade in it between the west coast of Africa and Cuba."

Zamboanga seems so peaceful at present that it is hard to believe it was ever otherwise. All around the town stretch fine lands, much better cultivated than any we had seen on the trip, with here and there beautiful groves, now of cocoanut-palms, now of mangoes, interspersed by well ploughed paddy fields and acres of corn or sugar-cane. The town natives were extremely friendly and when pa.s.sing always saluted us deferentially, while in the country the children, and sometimes the grown people as well, yelled cheerily after our carriage, "h.e.l.lojohn, h.e.l.lojohn," evidently under the impression that h.e.l.lo, John, was one word, and a salutation of great respect as well as a sociable greeting.

No one wore arms around Zamboanga, in fact it was forbidden so to do; and the smiling, well-disposed natives testified highly to the efficiency of the American officer in command, the sight of whose jolly face brought ecstatic yells of recognition from the very babies, bare and dirty, tumbling around in the streets, greetings which the colonel always answered in kind, his eyes twinkling with amus.e.m.e.nt the while.

Most of our success with these southern Moros may be traced to religious tolerance, and the fact that we interfere with them only in their disturbance of non-Mohammedan neighbours. Slave raids are a thing of the past, and leading dattos have been notified that any piratical or fanatical incursions into American territory will be punished swiftly and surely.

It has also behooved us to respect their race prejudice, to be considerate of their religious idiosyncrasies, and to dispense justice untempered with mercy, the latter virtue being considered a weakness in the eyes of our Mohammedan brothers, and as such to be taken advantage of. The border troubles in India, the mutiny of '57, the Turkish atrocities in '95, the Pathan rising under Mad Mullah in '97, the French-Algerian difficulties, and the ever present reminder of Spain's three hundred years of struggle for supremacy in the Philippines, all serve as mile-posts on the road to good government.

Although thus far we have made no little progress in the right direction, the path has not been strewn with roses, for Mohammedan customs, prohibitions, and theories of living are so strange to a North American intellect that mistakes are liable to occur at any moment. For example, it is a deadly insult for a man to even touch a Mohammedan woman not belonging to his harem, or to pay her the most conventional or trivial compliment. Then, too, as everyone knows, their dietetic observances are of the greatest import, and a good Mohammedan will not only refrain from eating pork, but will not hunt the wild boar or help carry it home for fear the contact might defile him. Wine is of course forbidden, though I have heard that in the Philippines food over which the shadow of an unbeliever has pa.s.sed need not be thrown away, the Moros there being more thrifty and perhaps less fanatically devout than their brothers in India.

For some strange reason these people have taken most kindly to the Americans, though I am pained to confess that much of their liking is due to the fact that they think we are not Christians, our brand of religion being unlike that of Catholic Spain. This, coupled with the fact that in several instances we have been forced, by a lack of quarters, to shelter our soldiers in church or cathedral, has so strengthened them in their belief that _Juramentados_, or Mohammedans sworn to kill Christians, are without employment, it being obviously unwise to run amuck and kill, when the Holy Writ promises reward only to those dying while destroying followers of Christianity.

Many American customs that do not entrench on the Holy Law have been adopted with no little avidity by the Moros, and the Stars and Stripes float over the home of every native fortunate enough to possess a flag. This is particularly noticeable in and around Zamboanga, but an officer belonging to the regiment stationed there told us a tale ill.u.s.trating the Moro's love for things American, that reads like a romance.

It seems that the post a.s.signed to this officer's battalion was at Davao, in the southeastern part of the island, a wild and seldom visited country, whose inhabitants consist of a curious mixture of Christians, Mohammedans, and Pagans. In the mountains surrounding the town live numerous Pagan tribes, all speaking different dialects, and wild as the country itself. Having occasion to make a reconnoissance trip in this territory, the officer and his escort stopped overnight in a little village of Bogobos, whose chief did the honours with a savage dignity.

The town was dirty beyond belief, the natives were lazy even in their curiosity, and everything pertaining to the place was in a shocking state of disrepair. Among other items of interest, proudly pointed out to the American officer by his host, was a gruesome collection of human skulls, which decorated the dwelling both indoors and out. "Trophies of war," he explained nonchalantly to his astonished guest, merely the skulls of his enemies. The American, with involuntary loathing, simulated a polite interest in these ghastly evidences of raids on the lower villages, and that night slept none too soundly in consequence. The following morning, on leaving, he thanked the chief for his hospitality, and asked him to some day return the visit.

Nothing loath, the savage accepted the invitation, and a short time later arrived in Davao, accompanied not by a paltry half-dozen as escort, but by the major part of his tribe. He was evidently not going to be outdone in ceremonial observances, and he and his followers remained long enough in Davao to cause the official larder sadly to need replenishment. During this visit the Bogobos were one and all delighted with the military life of the post; with the drills and parades where the soldiers marched as one man; the evolutions wherein they were deployed, moved in echelon, or wheeled into position; and their sureness and quickness in the manual of arms. Then, too, the cleanliness of the barracks impressed them, and the personal neatness of the khaki-clad men, not to mention the very desirable things to eat evolved by the company cook.

But perhaps nothing so filled them with awe and admiration as the ceremonial raising and lowering of the garrison flag. They never missed the opportunity of seeing it, especially at evening, when the improvised band played the "Star Spangled Banner" and the flag fluttered slowly down the staff, while the troops stood at attention with bared heads. It was so solemn an occasion that the very heavens darkened before it, and night was upon them always ere they half suspected it.

So impressed was the chief with this ceremony that on leaving Davao he asked the officer commanding the battalion if he would give him an American flag, that he might take the beautiful custom into his own village. This request was granted, and the presentation of the Stars and Stripes was made the occasion for a little sermon, in which the head of the Bogobos was informed that he and his people were under the protection of that flag, which represented the great American government, and that he, as chief of the tribe, stood for American authority in his village, so that it would become him to set an example to his people of humanity, liberality, and all civilized observances.

Then, with great tact and diplomacy, he was further informed that in the United States the custom of decorating houses with human skulls no longer prevailed; it had fallen into disfavour with the more enlightened "Natives" of the country and, in fact, they seriously objected to such practices. Consequently, as a representative of the American government, he must keep abreast of the times in this regard. The chief listened very gravely and with never a word to the little disquisition, while it was hard to tell from his expression if his silence meant only savage taciturnity, or if he were really deeply moved.

On a subsequent visit to the Bogobos, however, the officer was greatly surprised to see what weight his words had carried and to note the effect of the Star Spangled Banner upon a savage mountain people. Soldiers were drilling under the green trees; modern sanitation had been adopted; sweeping, heretofore unknown, was a custom of the village; the highly objectionable skulls had been removed from the executive mansion; while every evening the chief and his standing army failed not to face the splendid Stars and Stripes as they were reverently lowered from a bamboo flagstaff, where during the day they floated over a village redeemed by them from seemingly hopeless savagery.

On our first visit to Zamboanga we remained a day only, for by evening our sh.o.r.e end was laid and the office established, so that at daybreak the next morning we sailed for Tukuran, Mindanao, thus deferring our intercourse with Zamboanga, though not terminating it. After laying a hundred-knot stretch of cable between there and Point Flecha, we began to take soundings, and for four days sailed back and forth between Tukuran and the Point, seeking water not too deep for cable laying, though in places the sea swallowed up our sounding wire for twelve hundred fathoms. Think of it--a mile and a quarter! And once the iron marker came up on a sun-baked deck icy-cold from its abysmal plunge.

But at last a suitable course was chosen, and on the afternoon of February 16th we anch.o.r.ed off Tukuran. A prettier bit of country it would be hard to find. Hills on every side--forest hills--as far as the eye could reach, while a road, looking from the ship like a narrow white ribbon, trailed from the sh.o.r.e straight up the green hills to a stone wall, behind which was stationed a company of American soldiers.

The next morning early most of us went ash.o.r.e, despite the winding ribbon of a road which from the ship looked even more formidable than it really was. As we neared the land in the ship's launch two Moro boats anch.o.r.ed near the beach attracted our attention, the most absurdly picturesque crafts one could well imagine, with curving prows of rudely carved wood, outriggers of bamboo, and a thatched roof or awning at one end. A gaily coloured hat hung from one of the boats, and over each floated a red flag shaped like an isosceles triangle. These flags were finished by a white border ruffled on all around, such ruffles as we put on window-curtains in America, and over one of the crafts floated the striped red and white flag of the Mindanao Moro.

On reaching the post we found that the boats belonged to two prominent dattos visiting there. One of these dignitaries was an old, toothless man, with a mighty following, two or three of his army even carrying rifles and the others gigantic spears. The second datto was much younger, and repaired to the officers' quarters to wait until the old chap had departed, evidently recognizing his own social inferiority, for he boasted half a dozen warriors only, and not a gun or spear among them, though they carried _barongs_ of great beauty, with damascened blades and handles of handsomely carved wood, some of them being inlaid with pearl or ivory.

Each of the chiefs and all their followers were dressed in the picturesque Moro costume, which we had seen first in Misamis and Iligan, and all of them were frankly curious over the American women. They discussed us freely to our very faces, and kept changing their positions to get a better view of us, staring with amazement when the old datto was brought up and introduced. How curious of the Americans not to know that a woman should be taken to a datto, not a datto to a woman. And then, too, how odd that they should shake hands just like men, and not cover their faces at all, and what remarkable hair the child had, just the colour of hemp, and how very, very tall she was, though the interpreter insisted she was but nine years old.

Nor was this curiosity confined to the natives by any manner of means, for officers and soldiers alike crowded around us, and one non-commissioned officer took a snapshot of the group, explaining later to his captain, who took him to task for his boldness, that he had meant no harm, but just wanted the picture as a reminder of what American women really looked like, not having seen one before in two years. Needless to say he was forgiven, his interest being subjective rather than objective.

We were told in Tukuran that when the troops first went there deer were so plentiful that the pretty, shy animals could be seen at any time of day around the garrison, while at night they would come so close to the barracks as to annoy the men, barking not unlike dogs, and stumbling over kettles and pots by the door of the company kitchen. I do not know that they ever became so annoying that the men had to resort to the cat-discouraging bootjack or soda bottle, but I do know that those Tukuran soldiers had so much venison that they would eat canned corned beef or bacon in preference. Good hunting stories were of course numerous, and some of these so fired the Nimrod of the trip--our major-quartermaster--that he set off at daybreak one morning, gun in hand, accompanied by the crack shot among the soldiers of Tukuran, each prepared to slay his tens of thousands. But although the two men tramped the hills from sunrise until dark they saw no deer, and all because the search-light from the ship on the previous night had frightened them away from their accustomed haunts. At least so said the officers on sh.o.r.e, an explanation at which we _Burnside_ people sniffed, though feasting on venison at the time. But before we reached Zamboanga, a Signal Corps man, whom we left behind at Tukuran to complete the establishment of the lines there, sent a message to the major over the cable we were then laying, to the effect that he had seen a herd of deer from the window of his telegraph office that very morning, and, being a cable-ship man, and so not in league with the Ananiases of Tukuran, the major must fain believe him, whereupon he made some remarks not worthy of record.

Before leaving Tukuran one of the officers belonging to the Signal Corps well-nigh lost his reputation for veracity, or sobriety, by coming back to the ship one day with a most amazing tale as to some fish he had seen promenading--_promenading_, forsooth!--on the beach. Everyone was hilariously skeptical. Some shook their heads with mock commiseration and hinted darkly that much learning had made him mad, while still others wondered audibly how any man, no matter how vinaceous his tendencies, could have seen fish walk so early in the day. Only one among us all believed him, and she was obliged to--legally.

"Were they exercising for their health?" queried a scoffer, with what he was pleased to consider fine irony. "Undoubtedly," responded the hitherto veracious one, with unabated good humour, "though perhaps one might more truthfully say they were walking less to gain an appet.i.te than to find the means wherewith to satisfy it." He then described these piscatorial pedestrians as small, dark fish with little bead-like eyes in the top of their heads, and a blunt nose--he called it a nose, I am not guilty. Moreover, their ventral fins were largely developed, and by this means the fish hopped, or rather, hitched along the sand, after the manner of seals.

It was a preposterous tale, and nothing would do but that the cable-ship Munchausen should take a party ash.o.r.e where all might witness the fish of Tukuran taking a const.i.tutional on the beach, after the manner of the oysters in "The Walrus and the Carpenter." Nothing daunted, the officer agreed to the proposition, and so confident was he that even Mrs. Munchausen became less apologetically sure of his infallibility. But on our arrival at the beach, not a fish was to be seen, and loud was the laughter at both Munchausens, and numerous the jokes at their expense.

However, the tide going out a little later discovered on the wet sand a mult.i.tude of small walking-fish, and thus spared a reputation, and at the same time saved to science a story that else might have been laughed out of existence. Text-books tell of India's walking-fish, but I have been able to find nothing as to the walking-fish of the Philippines. In Luzon, during the rainy season, it is no uncommon sight to see natives casting their nets in the overflowed rice-fields, though perhaps but a few days before the ground there had been caked hard and dry from the sun. In this latter instance, it is more than probable that the fish do not walk back and forth, but bury themselves in the ground at the beginning of the hot season, remaining there until the first rains call them out in great numbers.

The Signal Corps found the trench at Tukuran a difficult problem in that it had to be dug down a very steep hill leading from the stone-enclosed fort to the beach, but by evening of the first day this was accomplished, and the sh.o.r.e end laid and buoyed. The next morning we left Tukuran, seeking better soundings than we had at first obtained, but finding the water nearly as deep in one place as another, it was decided to leave at sunrise on the following day and lay the cable as best we could.

All went well until late in the afternoon, when communication with Tukuran was suddenly interrupted, whereupon we hauled in several miles of cable, and coming upon the fault, cut it out and "spoke" Tukuran. By this time it was so late that the Signal Corps realized it would be impossible to sight the buoy at Flecha Point that night, though it was then but fifteen knots away, and so we lay to until morning.

As it was out of the question for the heavy cable to hang pendent from the stern of the ship all night at the mercy of the propeller; and as the three buoys were in use, there was one thing only to be done, and that was to fasten the cable to a small boat, with enough men to keep the craft bailed of water. It was a more hazardous proceeding than it sounds, for had a heavy squall come up, the boat, with nearly a ton of cable fastened to it, would surely have sunk. But notwithstanding this, one of the civilian cable experts, the able cable seaman, and three natives spent a most uncomfortable night afloat.

Before leaving the ship, the Americans joked about their possible fate, as Americans will, while the natives, on going down the gangway, crossed themselves and commended their souls to the Virgin, each race brave and stout-hearted in its own fashion. To be sure, they carried with them life-preservers and signals in case of accident, while the ship stayed as near the little twinkling lights on the small boat as possible, like some big mother hen hovering over her only chick.

The next morning the buoy at Flecha Point was picked up, the splice made, and the journey to Zamboanga continued. On the afternoon of February 21st, after making the final splice twelve miles out, we sailed into the harbour, to learn that the cable was working successfully in every detail, and that the natives of the town were overjoyed to be in communication with the world. The great event was celebrated on board by a jolly dinner, to which many officers from sh.o.r.e were bidden, after which we sat up on the quarter-deck until very late, exchanging home news and gossip some six or seven weeks old, while a round and red tropic moon hung in the heavens like a j.a.panese lantern, and the torchlights of innumerable fishing smacks bobbed up and down, as the natives speared for fish in the dark waters of the bay.

The next morning was Washington's Birthday, in honour of which the ship was dressed, and, more wonderful still, a holiday declared for all hands aboard, the first one since leaving Manila, This was princ.i.p.ally due to the fact that at this particular juncture a day more or less made no appreciable difference in the outcome, while at Christmas and New Year's every moment was of import.

Even before sunrise the natives were astir in preparation for the great event. All of them discarded their tarred clothing, appearing in natty white "_Americanos_" and d.i.n.ky straw hats, while some even sported swagger sticks. In the Philippines any white suit which consists of well fitting trousers and a coat b.u.t.toning up to the throat, as contradistinguished from baggy pantaloons with a _camisa_ worn on the outside, is called by the natives an "_Americano_,"

and is by them greatly admired from a sartorial standpoint.

Nearly all the Signal Corps employees, being men of social standing because of their really princely salaries, fifteen gold dollars a month, sported such suits, which with the addition of stockings and neat tan shoes, instead of bare feet thrust carelessly into _chinelas_, gave them the appearance of belonging to the native four hundred, any one of them looking eligible for the high office of presidente or secretario. There must have been many a flutter under modest _panuelas_ when the sixty young swells struck Zamboanga that day, with money sufficient to buy unlimited _sorbetas_ and the little rice _potas_ so dear to the heart of Philippine maidens.

The jackies having sh.o.r.e leave were most picturesque, and, alas, hot as well, in their blue flannel suits, with the round sailor cap set at a jaunty angle on their heads; while the Signal Corps soldiers and hospital men in fresh khaki, the officers in crisp duck, and the women freshly starched and ironed, gave a holiday aspect even beyond that of the fluttering flags aloft, as the ship had been dressed both on Chrismas Day and New Year's, although the work had gone on with unabated energy.

Indeed, some of the Irish sailors in the forecastle were overheard talking together that morning, one of them saying, as he rammed his tobacco down hard in his pipe with antic.i.p.atory joy in the smoke to come:

"Sure, not that I am complainin' at the same, but will anny of yez tell me why the ship's a-flutter with flags, and the lads all given a holiday, and that old coffee-mill of a cable machine stopped grinding for the once?"

"Because," answered a comrade with an expressive wink, "it's Garge's birthday, Garge Washington, you know, the daddy of his counthry!"