We moved very slowly against the current of the swift-flowing river, but we had no desire to hurry. It was really enchanting. From narrow, pebbly beaches on either bank rose rugged cliffs which seemed to tower mountain high, throwing deep shadows into the canyon and leaving only a narrow ribbon of sky above us. And these cliffs were hung with a tangled undergrowth through which small, white waterfalls rushed and rustled. Where the river broadened, here and there, we came upon groups of bright-clad natives who regarded us with great curiosity, and at one place we saw half a dozen women starting up the steep bank with graceful brown water-jars balanced on their heads. Each one was carrying at least six, one on top of another, and all of them full. How they managed it was beyond comprehension. We watched them until they were out of sight and not one of them ever raised a hand to her head. As a matter of fact, they were nonchalantly smoking and chattering away as if they were quite unconscious of their burdens, though the slightest unrhythmical motion would have spelt disaster for them all.
At eleven o’clock we reached the village where the road begins and the whole population gathered around in curious groups and gazed at us. White women were still a novelty in that region and I’m sure we looked much more peculiar to them than they looked to us. There were crowds of school children from the new American school, and one very much embarrassed little girl, who had had her English book only about four months, read some English for me very nicely. Likely as not that same little girl has by this time won a normal school certificate and is herself teaching English in an “American” school. Such is the history of many of her generation.
When we reached Bangued the young men in the command of Major Bowen, who was our host, gave up their house to the ladies, and we had three comfortable beds, with mosquito nets, in a large, airy room. It was a fine afternoon for a siesta because it rained in torrents for the rest of the day and the patter of rain on nipa thatch is a soothing sound. The young men’s house was just across from the Major’s and by evening the street was such a river that we had to be carried over for dinner. But nobody minded; and we enjoyed even the music of the native band which stationed itself down under our windows and enlivened the occasion with a wonderful medley of sound. When the band-men came upstairs for refreshments Mrs. Bell and two of the young officers ran down and tried their powers on the instruments, and I can only say that the result was joyful pandemonium.
The next morning we left our hospitable hosts and, escorted by Lieutenant Ingram, made the return trip all the way down the river. The water was high and, though it had taken us an interminable time to go up, it took only three hours and a half to go down; and some of the rapids were most exciting. We took our lunch basket and chairs ashore on a lovely, green, shaded knoll and dallied there for several hours. Only a month before nobody, who was not compelled to, ever went over this route on account of the danger of being shot, but the last of the Abra insurgents had surrendered, and so safe did we feel that we were absolutely unarmed.
If I should try to write a detailed account of this expedition I am afraid I could not avoid conveying the idea that we encountered nothing but a continuous downpour. It was the “rainy season” and we were wet most of the time, but Mr. Taft was right when he promised that we would have a glorious time and that the trip would do us a “world of good.” Down in the heat and the political turmoil of Manila I was taking things much too seriously, while up in the faraway north there was nothing to do but dismiss all worry and accept things as they came along. After we left Vigan on the long trail the only way we could get even a letter through was by messenger who had to travel hundreds of miles through a most difficult country. So I enjoyed myself thoroughly, as did everyone else in the party, hardships and physical discomforts seeming only to add to our gaiety.
At first I thought that my riding lessons in Manila were not going to do me much good. We had had a most luxuriously easy time in the beginning. We left General Bell’s house in an Army ambulance, instead of on horses, for our first day’s journey on the “long trail.” General Bell was in command and he knew what he was doing. All he had to do was to issue orders; we obeyed. That is what it is to go camping with a soldier. One learns what discipline means.
We were permitted to take with us only such things as were absolutely necessary. Even then, the “absolute necessities” which we eventually discarded as useless impedimenta would have made a long list. Everything was done up in waterproof bundles and when we started out these were stuffed so full that they would hardly fasten,
