Second Edition 1899 P. 451-458
Sinipi ng nagsasaliksik ang isang bahagi ng aklat ni John Foreman ukol sa kaniyang ginawang pagdalaw sa lalawigan ng
Mahalaga ang salaysay na ito ni Foreman, upang mabalikan natin ng tanaw ang lalawigan mula sa mata ng isang dayuha na naging bisita ng ating mga ninuno.
A local steamer left me at Balayan on her way to
The greater part of the cultivated land around Nasugbu and for several miles to the south, belongs to a rich
It being the wet season, the mountain path leading north from Nasugbu was not passable, so I started in a canoe for Maragondon. Off Punta del Fuego a storm came on, and we were obliged to take refuge in a creek, protected by rocks, against which the surging billows lashed with fury, whilst it poured with rain. I was wet through. Fortunately we found a fisherman's hut, where I changed my clothes, and in a couple of hours we put to sea again. It was still rough; my legs were bathed with sea-water. The monsoon was on the eve of changing, and a N.E. breeze was opposing us, so it was midnight before we reached the mouth of the Maragondon river. I had a letter to a half-caste resident, and there I settled for the night. The next day I rode out to visit a sugar estate. It was a venturesome journey; our ponies were up to their knees in mud, but the ride was pretty. Gorgeous clusters of bamboo were gracefully reclining over us on one side, forming a bower, and there was a precipice down to the river on the other slope. We were going uphill, to the mountain, when my pony lost his footing on the slippery rise; he slid back, and landed me in a pool of mud, out of which I scrambled, leaving him to manage for himself.
We rode over the estate, and returned by another route, which led us to the ravine where the mill-stream flowed. The water, bounding over the rocks in the gorge, was the only sound we heard besides the screeching of the birds on the tall trees. It was a lovely retreat; I should have liked to have lunched there, but we had nothing with us, as we (the young planter and I) were invited to the convent for 12 o'clock. We sent a man back by the ridge leading our ponies, whilst we stepped over to the other side through the water and followed the bank until we came to the unobstructed river. There we had a bamboo raft made for us, and on it we floated down stream, towards the town, continuing the short distance thence on foot.
We lunched with the native priest, who, that afternoon, had to go up to the mountain to confer his blessing on an European cattle-power mill newly erected. I accepted his invitation to accompany him. We rode out about 4 o'clock on very quiet strong ponies, with a servant in front of us to remove any obstacles. At 5 o'clock we were there, when a rough-looking native quietly approached the father, kissed his hand, and begged permission to come down with his companions. They were a brigand party-it was the best policy to say " Yes," so in a quarter of an hour six ruffians kept us company. They said they had seen us turn off the high road into the mountain path, and could have sent a bullet into us very easily, but they superstitiously respected the sacerdotal habit; they were hungry too, and wished to eat, so we supplied them with rice, fish, betel-nut, etc.
After the meal they showed us their weapons at our request. One man armed with an ancient pistol said he had the anting-anting,-that is to say, he was proof against harm. The priest said he was the same, and as he talked, he quietly loaded the pistol, putting the bullet first and the powder afterwards. The man did not perceive the trick. Then the priest stuck up a white handkerchief on a bough, and bid the brigand hit it. The bandit smiled disdainfully and fired-the smoke puffed out, and the bullet fell at his feet as he lowered the weapon.
"Ah!" cried the priest, "you're helpless with him who has the anting-anting," and the brigand turned away from the holy man, dumbfounded.
SANTA CRUZ DE MALABON.-NOVEL RICE-MILL
After passing the next day in and around Maragondon, I went on to Naig. The road is pretty in the wet season on account of the fine lawn-like fields of green rice on either side. Around Naig most of the land belonged to the Dominican Corporation, whose estate-house was an imposing building, well constructed, with a large high-walled enclosure in front, occupying all one side of the public square. The river runs to the north of the town, and is crossed by a massive singlearched bridge. It is never very safe travelling about here, and all the rest of the journey up to
Santa Cruz de Malabon is a neat little place. The square and the native shops are tidy, and there are a few fairly well-to-do natives living here. The chief produce is rice. The arable land, upon which the town depends, belonged to a religious corporation. There are several water-power rice-husking mills in the locality. I stayed at the house of an ex-petty-governor, who told me that a friend of his was excavating at the river-side, preparatory to the erection of a perpetual-motion rice-mill. His friend was anxious for me to see the model and have my opinion on it, so I went round to the shed where it was set up.
A water-wheel was to be placed with the shaft at land level. This wheel was to be put in motion by a stream of water flowing from a reservoir. The motion of the water-wheel would be communicated to two wheels, one at each end of the same shaft. Over these wheels a series of buckets were to revolve. These buckets were to bring up water from the river, and empty themselves into a canal leading to the reservoir, to replace the water which had fed the driving-wheel. Hence, provided the river did not dry up, the machine was expected to go on perpetually and transmit its motive power to a rice-husking mill. I explained to him, as far as I knew, the mechanical defects in the contrivance, but he had money to spend, and preferred to find out the errors of his theories by experience.
The country around is a vast plain, lying low, and just suited for rice-growing. It is generally refreshing to the traveller to see fields of green rice, but here its cultivation is so extensive that it becomes monotonous.
My host's son procured ponies for me, and accompanied me to Indan. We passed the civil guard outpost of Quintana. (kasaluyang lugar ng Kapitolyo ng Cavite-anciano) There was a great sameness in the immense rice fields all around, until two miles journey further on when we entered a horsepath leading through a coffee plantation to the high road near Indan. We were in the heart of the
SILAN. - THE MORO MORO" DANCE
We rode on to Silan. On leaving Indan, and about one-third of the way to Silan, there were so many rises and falls in the road that I suppose no one ever attempted the journey in a vehicle, but the route is very good for riding. The last two-thirds of the road are better still, and we went at a fast trot all the way to Silan. There was nothing but coffee plantations, or waste land, or fields out of tilth to be seen on the way. Two miles of the road this side of Silan were splendid. I was in the heart of that region which, in 1896, became the centre of the Tagilog rebellion.
Silan stands high up, and it was cold and damp. For the first time, in this Colony, I really felt chilly. There was some excitement about coffee prices. There had been a market rise in
The next day we rode on from Silan with the same ponies through Carmona to Vinan-an uneventful journey by beaten paths through fields, only enlivened by a magnificent bird's-eye view of the Laguna de Bay when we were near to Carmona. From Carmona, sugar estates begin again, and from the high road we turned off several times to see the cane-crushing at the several steam and cattle-power mills. We were glad to arrive at Virian on the lake shore to rest our ponies. We were now in a comparatively rich town, inhabited by a great many Chinese half-castes. There is quite a number of good stone and wooden houses, some with tiles and others with iron roofs. The river runs through the centre of the town, and near its left bank stands the old church which was ruined by the earthquake of 1880 The lands around were the property of a religious corporation, the planters being tenants who complained bitterly of the treatment they received from the landlords' agent. There are several steam cane-mills in the neighbourhood, and clayed sugar is the chief article of trade.
We returned to Carmona and I went to the civil guard station to ask for an armed escort over the mountains to Perez Dasmariinas. The officer at once furnished me with a couple of native guards to protect me on the journey. We started in the cool of the afternoon, through the mountain paths, up hill and down dale all the way. The dells were very muddy, but we got through without mishap. It was a very agreeable ride, sometimes between tall trees in the thick of the forest, then along a path leading through a grove of guava bushes about ten feet high.
Night came on, but there was moonlight sufficient for us to see the way. It was deliciously cool, and the cayinin fires in the mountain made the scene poetic. In about three hours we came to an outpost of the civil guard. Here we changed escort, and took the opportunity of having our supper. The native guard in charge was kind enough to give my
Perez Dasmarinas is a large quiet town, with a good church and convent, and here and there a house in the square with the usual group of huts. Being up so early we started betimes for Imus, famous as a brigand centre. The road was pretty, with large trees along on both sides, amongst them being hundreds of mango trees, which bring a regular income to the owners. The only novelty which we encountered on the road was a bamboo and nipa bungalow moving towards us, with some hundred naked legs dangling beneath it. It was going to take up new quarters close by its old resting-place, and was being removed by bayanin (labour given gratis to a neighbour).
IMUS-CAVITE VIEJO (KAWIT)-NOVELETA-SANTA CRUZ-
From Imus we went on to Cavite Viejo, a dirty fishing town, strewn with nets, canoes, sails, bamboos, etc., on the seaside. There were a few rows of rough-and-tumble shops, and in the middle of this uninteresting group is the large church and convent. The only amusement here was to listen to the townsfolk disputing amongst themselves in broken-Spanish, a mongrel jargon invented by the
Passing through Novaleta and Rosario we were again in Santa Cruz de Malabon. The ponies were very fatigued, but when they recognized their home they required no urging to arrive at a hard trot at the finish of the sixty-mile journey.
 The burthen of a native play in the provinces is almost invariably founded on the contests between the Mussulmans of the South, and the Christian natives under Spanish dominion. The Spaniards, in attaching the denomination of JVo'ros to the Moslems of Sulu, associated them in name with the Mussulman Moors who held sway over a large part of Hispania for over seven centuries (711-1192). A " Moro Mforo " performance is usually a drama-occasionally a melo-drama-in which the native actors, clad in all the glittering finery of Moslem nobility and Christian chivalry, assemble in battle array before the Moslem princesses, to settle their disputes under the combined inspirations of love and religious persuasion. The princesses, one after the other, pining under the dictates of the heart in defiance of their creed, leave their fate to be sealed by the outcome of deadly combat between the contending factions. Armed to the teeth, the cavaliers of the respective parties march to and fro, haranguing each other in monotonous tones. After a longwinded, wearisome challenge, they brandish their weapons and meet in a series of single combats which merge in a general melee as the princes are vanquished and the hand of the disputed enchantress is won. The dialogue is in the idiom of the district where the performance is given, and the whole play (lasting from four to six nights) is brief compared with Chinese melo-drama, which often extends to a month of nights. Judged from the standard of European histrionism, the plot is weak from the sameness and repetition of the theme. The declamation is unnatural, and void of vigour and emphasis. The same tone is maintained from beginning to end, whether it be in expression of expostulatory defiance, love, joy, or despair. But the masses are intensely amused, thus the full object is achieved. They seem to never tire of gazing at the situations created, and applauding vociferously the feigned defeat of their traditional arch-foes.
 Cayinin (Tagaog dialect), a land clearance made by firing the undergrowth
 Up to the beginning of the 17th century, the houses in