petty-governor of his own town, much to the disgust
of the people, who in vain petitioned against it in writing.

I visited the Penal Settlement, known as the Agricultural Colony of
San Ramon, situated about fifteen miles north of Zamboanga, where I
remained twelve days. The director of the settlement was D. Felipe
Dujiols, an army captain who had defended Onate (in Guipuzcoa, Spain),
during the Carlist war; so, as we were each able to relate our personal
experiences of that stirring period, we speedily became friends. As
his guest, I was able to acquire more ample information about the
system of convict treatment. With the 25 convicts just arrived,
there were in all 150 natives of the most desperate class--assassins,
thieves, conspirators, etc., working on this penal settlement. They
were well fed, fairly well lodged, and worked with almost the same
freedom as independent labourers. Within a few yards of the director's
bungalow were the barracks, for the accommodation of a detachment
of 40 soldiers--under the command of a lieutenant--who patrolled the
settlement during the day and mounted guard at night. During my stay
one prisoner was chained and flogged, but that was for a serious
crime committed the day before. The severest hardship which these
convicts had to endure under the rule of my generous host, D. Felipe,
was the obligation to work as honest men in other countries would be
willing to do. In this same penal settlement, some years ago, a party
of convicts attacked and killed three of the European overseers,
and then escaped to the Island of Basilan, which lies to the south
of Zamboanga. The leader of these criminals was a native named Pedro
Cuevas, whose career is referred to at length in Chap. xxix.

Within half a day's journey from Manila there are several well-known
marauders' haunts, such as San Mateo, Imus, Silan, Indan, the mouths
of the Hagonoy River (Pampanga), etc. In 1881 I was the only European
amongst 20 to 25 passengers in a canoe going to Balanga on the west
shore of Manila Bay, when about midday a canoe, painted black and
without the usual outriggers, bore down upon us, and suddenly two
gun-shots were fired, whilst we were called upon to surrender. The
pirates numbered eight; they had their faces bedaubed white and their
canoe ballasted with stones. There was great commotion in our craft;
the men shouted and the women fell into a heap over me, reciting
Ave Marias, and calling upon all the Saint