m in Moro costume, with the exception of the small children,
and they were legion, who revelled in the luxury of bare brown skins,
and, strange to say, did not look at all undressed, as would Caucasian
children under similar conditions, the dark skins rather suggesting
a spontaneous covering.

These retainers of Datto Mandi seemed eminently happy, and from all
we could learn, slavery among the Moros is a sort of feudal state,
the slaves having many privileges and considering themselves always
as members of the family to which they belong. They live their own
lives to a great degree, marry, and bring up their children, seeming
to be considered more as followers than servants. This probably is
less true of slaves by conquest, but the hereditary bondsman likes his
fetters and would doubtless feel ill-used were he forced to work for
his sustenance rather than receive it at the hands of a liberal master.

Before we left, the little hostess, quite forgetting her shyness,
showed us women many of her native costumes, several of them being
wonderfully beautiful in their rich, barbaric colours. There were
_jabuls_ or _sarongs_ of gaily striped cotton stuff woven by the
Moros; there were European silks and satins embroidered by natives of
Zamboanga; there were brocaded stuffs from Paris, and roughly woven
fabrics of home manufacture, comprising in one garment all the colours
of the spectrum.

Two or three of the long, skirt-like _sarongs_ the little woman tried
on then and there, that we might get the effect of them when worn;
and with her creamy skin and big, dark eyes, she looked so attractive
in the barbaric colours that we could not resist telling her the Moro
dress was even more becoming than the European.

She shook her head deprecatingly at this, that she might not appear
critical of our wearing-apparel, but she stroked each native garment
wistfully as if she loved it, and smiled at our approval of the
picture she made standing there in the big, sunlit room, the gaily
coloured _jabuls_ scattered about her on the polished floor, and one
more gorgeous than the rest wrapped loosely around her, yet not quite
hiding the European cut of her sleeve and collar. On every side stood
women slaves watching their mistress and her guests with amused wonder,
while the little sister-in-law became more voluble than ever and told
us there were no _jabuls_ in all Mindanao so handsome as these.

About this time the young daughter of the h