the floods from the many rivers which enter it, the valley
is flooded and submerged as is Egypt by the Nile, and remains thus
inundated from August until October or November. At this period the
valley itself becomes a lagoon of more than an estado in depth, and
can be traversed only by means of boats. This inundation abundantly
fertilizes the rice fields and seeded lands with which the valley is
covered, and, as a result, rich and abundant harvests are gathered. The
water enters at the proper season when the rice stalks are hardening
and are beginning to ear; consequently the copious irrigation helps
it to form seed without hindering the grain from hardening, or the
harvest from being gathered. On the contrary it is a convenience,
as I myself have often seen, to go in boats for the reaping, and in
those boats to bring the bundles of grain to the houses, where they
are exposed to the sun to dry. When it is thoroughly dry they thresh
and clean it, and store it in their granaries. This inundation not
only flooded the village--to such an extent that the streets could
be traversed only in boats, in which I went often enough--but also,
although the floor of the church had been raised and repairs made
to guard against the water, it flowed in over the steps, even to
the main altar. On account of this inundation they had selected,
not far from the church and farther back from the water, a hill,
where those who died during this season were interred. For mass they
repaired to Antipolo, which lies a scant three miles inland among
the mountains. The first time when I saw my church flooded, and
realized that I could not say mass in it, I was obliged to believe
what I had never been able to credit, although I had been often told
of it. It is customary for these villages, for greater convenience
of government, to be divided into districts on the plan of parishes,
which they call _barangais_. Each one of these is under the command
of a chief, who governs it and appoints those who are to provide for
all contingencies; the latter are called _datos_. At that time this
village had four hundred families and was divided into four barangais;
consequently there were four datos, each one of whom had charge of
a hundred inhabitants who are called collectively _catongohan_. I
summoned my four datos and from the choir I showed them the altar;
they saw (and they had known it beforehand) that mass could not be
celebrated. "Without celebrating mass eac