In some confusion he confessed that he had brought none, whereupon I read him a homily on the duties of a cavalryman, and sent the whole outfit to San Fernando to get the horses reshod and provided with extra shoes for the trip.
We arrived at Baguio in a howling typhoon.

When we emerged from the hills into the open, and our horses got the full sweep of the storm, they at first refused to face it.

We forced them into it, however, and a few moments later had found refuge in the house of Mr.Otto Scheerer, a hospitable German.

The cavalrymen and the horses got in under the building.

It gave me great joy to hear through the floor the voice of the sergeant remarking, with much emphasis of the sort best represented in print by dashes, that if he had known the sort of a trip he was starting on he would have been on sick report the morning of his departure.
We waited in vain three days for the storm to end and then rode on.