us on the skyline, we could see a cut in the forest where our trail
crossed the divide. But that was miles away, and in the meantime we
were ascending a lovely valley, pines, grass, and bright red soil. It
was delicious that morning, riding under the pines.


"Pinea brachia cum trepidant,
Audio canticulum zephyri!"


And part of the pleasure was due to the fact that we had an
unobstructed view in all directions, usually not the case in the
tropical forest. At one point we had a full view of Arayat, at another
of Santo Tomás, near which we had passed yesterday on coming down from
Baguío. But fine as were the distant views we got from time to time,
the great attraction was the country itself, through which we were
passing. Barring the total absence of any sign of man, it might have
been taken for Japan, in the neighborhood of Miyanoshita, without,
however, any trace of Japanese atmosphere.

The valley was steep-walled, narrow and twisting, at one point closed
by a single enormous rock nearly three hundred feet high--in fact,
a conical hill rising right out of the floor of the valley, and
apparently leaving just room for the stream to pass on one side.

A curious fact was that while the mountains were decidedly
northern-looking as to flora, yet the groins, wherever possible, were
thoroughly tropical. For in these water runs off but slowly, with
consequent richness of vegetation. And yet, on the other side of the
divide which we were now approaching not a pine could be seen, but,