the purple
ocean is a more wonderful boat still."

I looked. Oddest of sights! A boat shaped like a long leaf was scudding
before the wind. The one sail seemed to pull the boat over from the
wind. No one was really in the boat. But sitting far out, on a bamboo
out-rigger, high into the wind-side, above the water, a sailor was
balancing the boat and holding the sail by a long rope. Only on one
side of the boat was there a bamboo pole fixed lengthways. It did not
seem to be a well-balanced boat, yet it sailed along at a great speed;
and risky as the sport seemed, the sailor sat perfectly safe on his
high and dangerous looking perch, above the water.

"What kind of boat is that?" I asked.

"An out-rigger boat. Some people call it a dug-out boat," replied
Filippa.

"I'll tell you more about it," added Fil. "The boat itself is half of
a solid log, hollowed out by fire and axe and knife. It is chipped
and scraped smooth on the outside, and the ends are pointed. If the
wind dies down, the sailor has to paddle the heavy boat home. Then
he sits over on the side opposite the out-rigger, so as to balance
it. But when he has hoisted sail, he sits on the out-rigger, as the
sail balances the boat on the sailing side, opposite the wind. The
boat easily rolls over, because it has no sharp keel going down into
the water. But it is swifter before the wind, just because it has no
keel to keep it back."

"Very clever are your Filipino sailors," I admitted. "Tell me if the
boats are used for other purposes than sport."

"Oh, yes," said quiet little Favra, Filippa's chum. "The sailors
fish in them and bring us home fish with names as wonderful as are
their colors."

"Tell me the names, please," I asked.

Favra slowly thought of three and replied: "The pompano, all silver,
gold, and purple, and as wide as it is long; the fighting barracuda,
so hard to bring in to the boat; and the leaping tuna, that jumps
out of the water and out of the boat perhaps."

Fil added: "Then there's the bonito, as big as a pig, though its name
jokingly means 'good little one'; the sail fish which lifts its fin
into the wind; and the garoupa."

"Wonderful names," I admitted.

"And all wonderfully good to eat," added Moro, who was often thinking
of dinners and feasts.

CHAPTER XV

SAW MILL; MUD SLEIGHS; WOODEN PLOWS

"At what are you going to earn your living when you grow up,
Fil?" asked the Padre, who was his teacher, when we all met aga