ouse was brought in and
introduced to the American visitors. She was an attractive girl
of eleven, the oldest of four children, and her dark eyes shone
with suppressed excitement as she shook everybody's hand with a
gracious little manner, and answered our many questions in her pretty,
hesitating Spanish. She was a dear little thing, and comely even from
an American standpoint, with her dark eyes, thick, dark hair hanging
in a braid far below her slender waist, and a faint rose tint in
her dusky cheeks. She and Half-a-Woman were of a size, although the
little Moro was full two years the older, and a very pretty picture
the children made, struggling through the medium of their imperfect
Spanish to arrive at a starting-point of mutual interest--dusky
daughter of the East and fair little maid of the West.

Despite the datto's wine-forbidden code of ethics, whiskey and soda
were passed to the men, as well as fine cigars and cigarettes; and when
we finally left it was to be followed to the launch in real Arabian
Nights style by two picturesque slaves carrying gifts for us all from
the future Sultan and Sultana of Mindanao--_jabuls_ magnificently
embroidered, hand-woven turbans, and knives with silver handles--truly
right royal gifts and charming mementos of a very charming visit.

The next day, February 24th, we left Zamboanga for Sulu, laying cable
as we went, instead of having to take soundings first, the charts
in this one instance being reliable. As it was the dark of the moon,
however, we made the journey very slowly, having to anchor each night
and cut and buoy the cable to prevent its fouling. By eight o'clock
every morning the buoy was picked up, the splice made, and we were
under way for another uninterrupted run of ten hours, which brought
us into the harbour of Sulu on the afternoon of Tuesday, February 26th.

Chapter VIII

SULU

That popular opera "The Sultan of Sulu" has made the island of Sulu
one of the most-talked-of places on the map of our new possessions,
but in the Philippines it is rarely called Sulu, being better known by
its Moro name of Jolo, this being pronounced with the accent on the
last syllable, so that it sounds not unlike that vulgar salutation
of our Western World, "Hello!"

As first seen from our quarter-deck the village of Sulu was a thing
of beauty, with its vivid tints of green and gold and amethyst, its
red-sailed boats on the sunlit bay, and over all the strongly blue