We had a glorious week at Topside, Governor Forbes's attractive bungalow, and speedily became as enthusiastic in our praises of Baguio as every one else who has ever been there. I rode all day long on Black Crook, the most perfect polo pony in the world, through the mists and the sunlight and into the rainbow shades of the setting sun, where the clouds turned the colour of cockatoos' wings and the tints of the fish from the China Sea. "Cloud Maidens that float on forever, Dew-sprinkled, fleet bodies, and fair, Let us rise from our Sire's loud river, Great Ocean, and soar through the air To the peaks of pine-covered mountains Where the pines hang as tresses of hair." I played my first polo game at Baguio on the club grounds. Squash Pie, Calico Pie and other delightful names were given to the native ponies, which are small but very strong. We went to the government stock farm, where they are trying experiments in breeding horses. They had a native pony there that had been well fed and taken care of for some time, in order to show the difference between it and the forlorn animals that one might see anywhere in the towns. The native Spanish pony has greatly degenerated. At this farm they had a beautiful Arabian stallion and a Morgan stallion from Vermont. It is said that the first generation of American horses does well in the Philippines, but after that the climate and the change in food cause them to deteriorate. Besides, they are rather too big for mountain cavalry. The Arabian stallion and the native mare are said to breed the best kind of horse for this country. Black Scotch cattle and Australian cattle, which are raised at the government farm, do well. Sheep do not pay, for, to begin with, there is no market for the wool. Goats do well, and goats' milk is in great demand. The natives use principally the carabao and the native cattle, which look like small Jersey cows but are not very good. Another day, Mrs. Whitmarsh, from Boston, gave us a tea in a little house hung with orchids and Japanese lanterns, and we visited Mr. Whitmarsh's gold mine. Some of us went on horseback down into the valley to see the tunnels. We washed a pan of ore in the brook and found at the bottom little fine gold specks. The Benguet Igorots have mined gold for centuries. [Illustration: IGOROT SCHOOL GIRL WEAVING.] At Baguio we visited missionary and government schools and Camp John Hay, where Captain Hilgard gave us a reception. At the government school the Igorot boys are taught, among other things, to make attractive mission furniture, while the girls learn to weave, and very pretty things they make. These girls wear short blue skirts and little jackets, and have their hair in two long black braids that hang on either side of their faces. A Turkish towel, worn as a turban, on which to rest burdens, seemed to be the fashion in head gear with them. Loads are also carried by the Igorots on their backs, hung by straps over the forehead.