d a twig snap or a bamboo
creak, and look fearfully about him for a Negrito. He told me that
the Negritos will kill and rob you if they think there is no chance
of being found out, and he mentioned a case of an old Filipino being
killed and robbed by these same Negritos a few months previously. I
managed to string together the following absurd story from his broken
English. He said that if you heard a twig break in the forest once or
even twice you were safe enough, but if a twig snapped a third time,
and you did not call out that you saw the Negrito, you would get an
arrow into you. He said that once when he heard the stick "break three
time" (to use his own words), he called out "Ah! I see you Negrite,
and the Negrite he no shoot, but came out like amigo (friend)." His
English was too limited for me to point out the many weak and absurd
points of the story, as, for instance, why the Negrito should make the
twigs break exactly three times, and why he should not shoot because
he thinks he is seen. I only mention this anecdote to illustrate the
credulity of the Filipinos. The next day, when we were out collecting
in the morning, I suddenly saw him start when a bamboo snapped, so I
called out, "Buenos diaz, Senor Negrite." This was too much for my man,
who ran off home and refused to follow me in the forest that afternoon,
and when I returned that evening he was nowhere to be seen, and I
found out later that he had returned to Florida Blanca. In consequence
I was forced to do all my own cooking, which was not pleasant, as I
had to do it all in the hot sun, and this brought on a return of my
fever. At last, one morning, as I was endeavouring to light a fire to
cook my breakfast, and muttering unpleasant things about Vic and his
brother, I suddenly looked up and Vic stood before me like a. silent
ghost. I say like a ghost, because he looked like one, thin and gaunt
as he still was from fever. He, too, had had a return of the fever
and had not yet recovered, but sooner than that "his English" should
be alone, he had dragged himself over in the cool of the night. The
next day his wife and two children arrived. She had been on a visit
to her mother in another village, which accounted for Vic's thinking
she had run away. They occupied the hut of my late neighbour, and
before many days had gone they were all bad with fever. It was easy
to see that the woman hated me, and imagined I was the cause of her
having to come and live in