tan point blank refused to enter
the waggon. He had run the gauntlet through rows of pointed steel,
and now new horrors awaited him. Perfectly bewildered at the sight
of such enormous animals, he turned piteously to his Prime Minister
and invited him to lead the way. "I will follow your Highness," the
minister discreetly replied, but the muscular Governor, Captain John
P. Finley, ended the palaver by gently lifting the Sultan into the
vehicle, whilst he himself immediately entered it, and the timorous
Prime Minister and suite summoned up courage to follow. During the
drive the Governor gave the word to the teamsters to detach the
forecarriages on reaching the foothills and let the teams go. To
the great amazement of the Moro chiefs, the waggons suddenly became
stationary, whilst the released horses galloped on ahead! The Sultan
and his suite glanced at each other speechless with fright. Surely
now their last day had come! So this was the trick treacherously
prepared for them to segregate them from their fighting-men! But
the teams were caught again, and the waggons brought them safely
back to the sight of the port and the _vintas_. Allah had turned the
hearts of the great white men and rescued his chosen people in the
hour of imminent danger. The durbar was continued day by day until
every point had been discussed. Meanwhile the Sultan and suite daily
returned to their _vintas_ afloat to eat, drink, and sleep, whilst
in the town of Zamboanga the christian natives quaked, and crowds
of Moros perambulated the streets in rich and picturesque costumes,
varying in design according to the usage of their tribes. Before the
departure of the royal visitor the troops were formed up, military
evolutions were performed with clockwork precision, and volley after
volley was fired in the air. The Sultan declared he could never receive
the Governor with such splendour, but he wanted him to promise to
return his visit. It was not politic, however, to agree to do so. And
the Sultan and his people left, passing once more through lines of
troops with bayonets fixed, this time with a firmer step than when
they landed, thanking the Great Prophet for their happy deliverance
from what had appeared to them a dreamland of dreadful novelty.

The Manguiguin of Mindanao was indeed "a man of sorrows and acquainted
with grief," for in the days of his decrepitude he was jilted by the
widow of Utto (_vide_ p. 143), the once celebrated Cottabato _Datto_