ub-house, and a tennis tea. The women all wore pretty frocks, their
houses were charming, and their servants as well trained as if they
were living anywhere but on a dot of an island in the Sulu Sea. All of
which goes to show what American women can do in all circumstances,
especially army women. It was often hard to realize, while in Sulu,
that just outside the house which encompassed our little civilization,
barbarism lurked, but through the open windows one could see the Moros
in their picturesque colours, the more soberly dressed Filipinos,
and the thrifty Chinamen, with their long queues twisted up under
their flat straw hats, while bits of conversation in all three tongues
drifted in and mingled with our talk, as foreign to the American ear
as was the tropical foliage to the American eye.

Of course we bought all sorts of curios before sailing, embroidered
turbans, _sarongs_, _jabuls_, handsome _krises,_ chow-covers of
beautifully coloured straw, and hats of every variety, while one day,
as an experiment in shopping, I bargained for a Moro slave, a handsome,
black-eyed boy, but as he could not be purchased for less than ten
dollars gold, I informed his owner that he was too expensive. This
transaction was carried on with great seriousness by the elderly
Mohammedan, while the youngster himself showed great interest in the
proceedings, and looked a little disappointed when he found he was
not to belong to the _Americana_ after all.

Slave-raiding has of course been forbidden since American occupation,
but the authorities have not yet been able to entirely do away with
slave-trading, polygamy, nor other like peccadilloes, religious
toleration being the password to the ultimate civilization of our
new citizens.

Meanwhile the Signal Corps had entrenched the cable, and connected it
by a short land line with the telegraph office, which was established
in short order, everything being in perfect condition for the return
trip to Zamboanga by the afternoon of the 28th. At daybreak on the
following morning, we sailed for Zamboanga, only to find orders
awaiting us there to proceed at once on a wrecking expedition to
Bongao, on Bongao Island of the Tawi Tawi group, a small launch,
the _Maud_, being foundered there on a coral reef. Thus were we
hoist by our own petard, for over the cable just laid came the order
postponing our return to Manila; but as it meant yet another chapter
in a delightful experience, few of us were a