Janiuay, December 23, 1901.


This afternoon while I was reading, I heard gun-shots back of the convento. Presently one of the old hangers-on around the town hall came up and asked for McC—– to go over with him as there was a man there who was “trying to kill everybody.” The man was an ignorant taow and had had his home at a barrio a few miles out on the road to Cabatuan. This afternoon he suddenly became violently insane, ran amuck, killed his young brother with a bolo, and set about to clean up the place generally. the Chief of Police of Janiuay sent out his entire force (twenty-eight in number) to bring the fellow in, but with instructions not to kill him. Instead of their bringing him in, he brought them in. They ran for their lives, three full miles of it, with him after them, almost nipping the hindmost with his bolo at every jump. When they reached the town hail, a Constabulary soldier standing by took a shot at the loco with a revolver and got him through the lungs. He went down Like a felled ox, whereupon one of bystanders rushed up with a stone and cracked the poor devil behind the ear. When I left the scene to go to my work, the dying man was lying in the calaboose with his feet in the stocks!

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