The men opened their army cots on the forward deck, where the big sail cut them off from the rest of the ship.  The next morning they reported a fine night’s rest.  I could not make so felicitous a report, for my stateroom was considerably warmer than the open air, and a steamer chair, though comfortable by day, does not make an acceptable bed.

We breakfasted from our private stores, and I found myself longing for hot coffee, instead of which I had to drink evaporated milk diluted with mineral water.  The day was sunny, the heat beat fiercely off the water, and I burned abominably.  Near noon we sighted a town close to the coast, and knew that we were nearing our journey’s end.

We skirted the horn of a crescent-shaped bay, found a river’s mouth, and entered.  Here at least was the tropical scene of my imagination—­a tide-swollen current, its marshy banks covered with strange foliage, and innumerable water lanes leading out of it into palmy depths.  Down these lanes came bancas, sometimes with a single occupant paddling at the stern, sometimes with a whole family sitting motionless on their heels.  Once we passed the ruins of what had been a sugar mill or a bino factory—­probably the latter.  Then the Blanco, puffing ahead, whistled twice, we rounded a curve and came full upon the town.

Though subsequent familiarity has brought to my notice many details that I then overlooked, that first impression was the one of greatest charm, and the one I love best to remember.  There were the great, square, white-painted, red-tiled houses lining both banks of the river; the picturesque groups beating their clothes on the flat steps which led down to the water; and the sprawling wooden bridge in the distance where the stream made an abrupt sweep to the right.

On the left of the bridge was a grassy plaza shaded with almond trees, a stately church, several squat stone buildings which I knew for jail and municipal quarters, and a flag staff with the Stars and Stripes whipping the breeze from its top.  Over all hung a sky dazzlingly blue and an atmosphere crystal clear.  Back of the town a low unforested mountain heaved a grassy shoulder above the palms, and far off there was a violet tracery of more mountains.

I knew that I should like Capiz.

CHAPTER VII

My First Experiences As a Teacher of Filipinos

After Resting in a Saloon I Arrive at My Lodging—­I Attend an Evening Party—­Filipino Babies—­I Take Temporary Charge of the Boys’ School—­How the Opening of the Girls’ School Was Announced—­Curiosity of the Natives Regarding the New School—­Difficulty of Securing Order at First.