he Hill People, its song a
harbinger of good or evil tidings.

An old Bogobo woman told me of this one night, in a little
foothill village, when the spell of dusk had unlocked her
lips: and she told, whisperingly, of twice having heard the
Giant Agong of the Hill dwellers, once when she was a child,
again when she was grandmother to nineteen. I wish you could
have been there to watch and to listen: sitting near the
fire in front of her hut, surrounded by a circle of almost
naked wildmen who moved, uneasy, she told quaveringly of how
the booming tones had rumbled down the forested slopes, and
of how ill had befallen her people both times; when she
ceased, they stood breathless, their whole beings strained
to catch the dread sound none but she had ever heard. Yes,
she moved me, queerly ... I scarce know why.

I am lonely--a little--at times. But who is not? Yet I have
my work to keep me busy, usually happy. Just now I am facing
less pleasant duty--but it is, I fear, a work that must be
done. It is good to know that one is needed, as I am
here,--just now.

But never a day is born or dies but that I miss you all, as
I love you all ... Susan and Ellis, Father Jennings, the
foreigners ... all of you.

DICK.

CHAPTER VIII

THE STRICKEN VILLAGE

A week later, Terry stood at the window looking down over the
blistering plaza. Davao was torpid under the noonday heat. Three
carabaos grazed undisturbed on the forbidden square: another of the
awkward powerful brutes dawdled up the dusty road, hauling a decrepit
two-wheeled cart on which a naked-backed, red-pantalooned native
dozed: Padre Velasco, the aged Spanish priest, waved a weary hand at
Terry from his window in the old adobe convento. As he watched he saw
the soldierly figure of Sergeant Mercado emerge from the _cuartel_ and
hurry toward him.

Entering the room the soldier saluted stiffly and reported that a
patrol had just come in from the foothills with the information that a
mysterious fever had attacked the Bogobos in the barrio of Dalag, that
a score were stricken and four already dead.

Terry hastened to the quarters of the Health Officer to apprise him of
the facts. He found him cursing the heat, sweating profusely, though
wearing nothing but a thin kimono. A very fat man, Doctor Merchant,
in