Every other farmhouse
and wayside hut was deserted, their occupants having gone, apparently,
to join Aguinaldo, and the whole country, outside the towns, seemed to
be wholly deserted and left to grow up in weeds and tangled vines.
The sun was warm, the sky was a perfect blue, and it seemed a
delightful day in every way. But it made Archie sad to walk through a
district which had been made so desolate, and he hadn't walked many
hours before he wished that he might soon reach a town, where he could
find some life, and where he could remain overnight. For by the middle
of the afternoon he was tired walking, and made up his mind that
fifteen miles was enough for any one to do in one day. But he was
obliged to keep on walking for two hours longer before he reached a
village, and the great sun was just sinking behind the blue hills in
the distance when he entered the one main village street, which was
long and narrow, winding in and out among the cabins and huts, as if
it had been laid out after the houses were built, for the convenience
of the people. It was a poor excuse for a public thoroughfare. There
had probably been a pavement of some sort at one time, but now the
street was a mass of rubbish of every sort, straw, dust, old bricks,
and bits of stone being thrown together in every rut, so that it was
exceedingly difficult to walk along with any comfort.
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