ell, he has not been seen there since the Spanish
left. Some will have it that he was smitten into a despairing
bashfulness during Weyler's administration, and that when the governor
went home with a couple of million dollars in his valise--the savings
from his salary--the Devil went home likewise, awe-struck. His Satanic
Majesty's last recorded exploit occurred in the view of three men,
of whom one may still be alive to vouch for it. They were farmers
of Wild Laguna, a few miles above Manila, and on one memorable day
were cutting wood in the ravine near by,--a deep gulch through which
babbles a stone-choked stream. This glen has precipitous sides, but is
so thickly overhung with green that it is almost like a verdant cave.

While they were resting--and the Filipino's ability to rest is one of
his striking qualities--they were startled by the hurried advance of
something, or somebody, on the bank. There was a swish and crash of
undergrowth, a hobbling stamp, and something that sounded like the
smiting of leaves with a club. At first the farmers thought that a
water buffalo had run away from some plantation and was angry because
he could not descend the craggy sides and reach the water. Then came
a volley of expletives in an unknown tongue, and in a voice so deep
and harsh that the hair of the three heads bristled, and three pairs
of eyes goggled with fright. The farmer who was good crossed himself;
the one who was bad turned white and tried to remember how prayers
were said; the one who was betwixt-and-between clung to the stone on
which he was seated and held his breath; for a tall, lank personage,
with overhanging brows, slanting eyes, long chin and nose, and
wrathful aspect, was striding to and fro on the edge of the ravine,
looking at the opposite bank as if trying to decide whether or not
he could leap that distance. He was scowling, gnashing his teeth,
and brandishing his arms. Any Spaniard might have done as much,
and brandished a sword besides; but the terrible thing about this
gentleman was the great length of tail, with a dart at its tip, that
he was flourishing among the bushes, for only one being, on the earth
or under it, was known to have a toil like that.

As if to leave no doubt, the stranger, in stamping on the ground,
lifted his leg so high that the watchers could see that it ended,
not in a foot, but a hoof. It was Satan himself! The farmers did
not dare to tremble, but each shrank within himself as