Was on the early morning “hike” that goes three and one-half miles down the track to meet the patrol coming up. Was waked at 4 A.M. and started at 4:30, after bacon and coffee. Was raining hard. Two weeks ago I should have felt nervous thrills as we passed the outpost and stepped off into the pitchy darkness. Felt nothing except a slight annoyance at being waked so early. The rain soon stopped and we were treated to a splendid sunrise. Natives began to go to work in the rice fields, swimming their caribous up the numerous streams, the while sitting on their backs quite naked. Children squalling in the village of Santo Thomas quite like America. Many birds, some quite like those at home. One bird like the kingfisher, one like the chippy, a plover, herons of several kinds and a number of finches. Met the patrol six kilometers down. All well. Reached the barracks at 8:30 A.M. Drill started to-day, 9:30, 4 to 4:30. The reason, the men had been straggling too much from the barracks. I have had little to say of the natives who have come into the town in great numbers. They are small, brown people, very straight from carrying weights on their heads. Not pleasing to look at. All smoke constantly, men, women and children, and the women chew betel nut. They all wear very few, loosefitting clothes and seem to be pleasant, good-mannered, moral people. I understand their besetting sin is gambling and that few ever become rich. The Chinos are everywhere and are great friends of the Americans and enemies of the insurgents, who always when they catch one put him to death with every conceivable mutilation. All the dirty and manual work of the army is done by Chinos, who get, I believe, twenty cents a day.