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The Head Hunters of Northern Luzon by Cornélis de Witt Willcox
page 105 of 183 (57%)
as she saw the red cloth diminishing and likewise her chances,
displayed the most vivid play of emotion. Finally, when the last
yard of the stuff had been given out and she had got none of it,
two large tears formed and ran down her cheeks. Poor little thing,
but ten minutes ago she had braved it with the best of them, but her
skirt had now suddenly gone out of style! The eternal feminine! I
neither saw nor heard any other child cry during the whole trip. As
we rode off, our banana-grove accompanied us part way, singing, and,
disappearing behind a hillock on our left,


"Unrobed and unabashed in Arcady,"
shifted from Nature's weave to man's.


From this point to the stream at its foot, the ridge on which
we found ourselves was completely bare of trees, and presented
a different appearance from any other so far seen or to be seen,
tremendous rounded masses. One of these had been split through the
middle by a recent earthquake: the right half, as we looked at it,
dropping down eight or ten feet below the other, a splendid example of
convulsive power. Across the stream and nearly at the top of the climb
that followed we halted for chow and sleep under some tall pines. Two
hours later we were off again, through a country from which all visible
suggestion of the tropics had disappeared. We were passing through
red soil uplands, grass and pines, with a clear view in all directions.

Passing on, we now faced one of the most disagreeable ascents of the
whole trip: a bare, mountainous hill facing south, so steep that we
had to switch-back it to the top, with the sun blazing down on our
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