Was it possible that teachers were to be sent to places where even the necessaries of life could not be obtained! Was it possible that many would be sent to places so remote that for six months no fresh supplies could be gotten! A mass meeting was held at once, and a committee was appointed to send a cablegram to the Associated Press petitioning aid from the American people at large. Realizing what consternation would be created throughout the United States by such a message, two of the teachers leaped into a carriage at the close of the meeting and a few moments later were closeted with the chief executive of the department. As a result the committee was persuaded not to send the cablegram to the Associated Press until by courtesy it had been sent to the President. Of course, this diplomatic move tided affairs over and the teachers who had flatly refused to budge from Manila now agreed to go on to their stations, being assured that whatever action was best would be taken. The day had come when we must separate. We were to enter an untried and an unknown field. It was fitting that we have a final joyous meeting, so the best orchestra in the archipelago was engaged and we "chased the hours with flying feet" until dawn so that whatever might come to us in that unknown future upon which we were entering each would hold in pleasant memory our last evening together. CHAPTER III. A DRAMA IN ACTUAL LIFE. Almost every one heeded the warning to go to his station forearmed with at least necessaries of life, but, as it had never fallen to the lot of the writer to cook, he refused to learn at that late day, so he took no pot, no pan, no kettle, putting his future into the hands of an uncertain fate and relying upon the unknown hospitality of the Filipino. Bacalod, the capital of the province of Occidental Negros, was our destination. The second morning after leaving Manila, we awoke with the "Kilpatrick" lying at anchor in a shallow bay. We were several miles from the shore and nothing in sight indicated that we had reached a place of any importance. Late the night before we had been awakened by the loud, sharp ringing of the ship's bells, accompanied by the reversal of the engines and a general disturbance awaking the crew. So our first impressions on coming on deck were that we had run aground. But the captain assured us that everything was ship-shape and that this was the nearest point of approach to Capiz, a town of considerable importance on the island of Panay, where a body of troops was to embark for home. Not even the grass hut of a native was in sight. Search as we would, not a sign was seen of a stream flowing into the sea, indicating the probable presence of a town. There was not a sign of life of any kind save one lone column of thin, blue smoke that arose from the side of a mountain miles away. One would have thought that we were explorers of three hundred years ago lying off the shore of some unknown land.