[Calauan.] I reached Calauan in the pouring rain, wading through the
soft spongy clay upon wretched, half-starved ponies, and found I must
put off my water journey to Manila till the following day, as there
was no boat on the lake at this point. The next morning there were no
horses to be found; and it was not till the afternoon that I procured
a cart and a couple of carabaos to take me to Santa Cruz, whence in the
evening the market-vessel started for Manila. One carabao was harnessed
in front; the other was fastened behind the cart in order that I might
have a change of animals when the first became tired. Carabao number
one wouldn't draw, and number two acted as a drag--rather useless
apparatus on a level road--so I changed them. As soon as number two
felt the load it laid down. A few blows persuaded it to pick itself up,
when it deliberately walked to the nearest pool and dropped into it. It
was with the greatest trouble that we unharnessed the cart and pushed
it back on to the road, while our two considerate beasts took a mud
bath. At last we reloaded the baggage, the carabaos were reharnessed in
the original positions, and the driver, leaning his whole weight upon
the nose-rope of the leading beast, pulled with might and main. To my
great delight the animal condescended to slowly advance with the cart
and its contents. [Pila.] At Pila I managed to get a better team, with
which late in the evening, in the midst of a pouring rain, I reached
a little hamlet opposite Santa Cruz. The market-vessel had left; our
attempts to get a boat to take us across to the village only led to
barefaced attempts at extortion, so I entered one of the largest of the
hamlet's houses, which was occupied by a widow and her daughter. After
some delay my request for a night's lodging was granted. I sent for
some oil, to give me a little light, and something to eat. The women
brought in some of their relations, who helped to prepare the food
and stopped in the house to protect its owners. The next morning