of former affluence. It has a brick church, the bells of which were
rung on our approach.

As there is some Government here, of course we had to pay a visit
of ceremony, and were accordingly received by the _presidente_ and
other dignitaries in an upper chamber, the little children with
their banners massing around the gate of the house and forming a
really pretty picture. When we were all in, the _presidente_ made
the Governor-General and his suite a dignified speech of welcome,
very well done, to which Mr. Forbes made answer in fluent and pretty
good Spanish.

_Bubud_ was then passed about--but this is going too fast! _Bubud_
(called _tapuy_ elsewhere) is an institution in the parts where we now
were, and I had been hearing of it for days. It is the native (Ifugao)
name of a drink produced by the fermentation of rice, a drink that
varies in color and in flavor, according to the care taken in its make,
but nearly always agreeable to the palate and refreshing. That offered
us to-day was greenish yellow, slightly acid and somewhat bitter from
the herbs added. Unfortunately, it will not bear transportation,
but we made up for this by carrying off personally as much as was
convenient. It had a happy effect on my pony, too: all the way to
Aritao he had been slower than the wrath to come, but from this on he
showed life and spirit; in fact, he danced and pranced through every
town we crossed for some days afterward. I always meant to ask if some
one had given him any _bubud_ at Aritao, during the speech-making;
on reflection I am inclined to doubt it, but at any rate, in honor
of the circumstances, he was known as Bubud the rest of the trip.

A short ride through the charming, smiling country (part of it might