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Updated: June 11, 2025
I believe Marka's already with child. Never fear, the child won't feature you. He'll be a fine, lusty lad, like Silan himself! But he'll be your child! Ha! Ha! Ha! He'll call you father! And you won't be his father, but his brother; and his real father will be his grandfather! That's a nice state of things! What a filthy family! But they're a strapping pair! Isn't that true, Mitia?" "Sergei!"
Sergei and Mitia stood as if rooted to their oars, but the expression on their faces could not be distinguished by those on the forward part of the raft. Silan glanced at Marka. She was cold. She leaned forward on her pole in a doubled-up attitude.
He heard the confessions of some, and all were desirous of removing to our mission-village; they put this desire into execution, at the end of four months, by breaking up the entire village, and proceeding with their families to Silan.
This and other beneficial results from that residence of Silan are well described by Father Gregorio Lopez in a letter written by him for the father-visitor, thus: "Early in my stay there, the people told me that in Caibabayan was a catalona, or priestess; and in order to cut the thread of evil, and to gain a knowledge of those distant fields and peoples, I went thither, desiring to act toward them as a father rather than as a judge; and the Lord, who is the true Father of all, fulfilled my desire.
But I must not fail to mention one incident which occurred during the absence of Father Gregorio Lopez, at which time his companion, Father Pedro de Segura, remained in Silan. Two Indians came to this father one night, seeking relief for a woman who was the wife of one and a relative of the other.
Through the cleft clouds, on the dark water the yellow splashes of moonlight fell, and after glittering a moment disappeared, swept away in the moist gloom. The raft continued on its way down stream amid silence and darkness. Near one of the forward poles stood Silan Petroff in a red shirt, open at the neck, showing his powerful throat and hairy chest, hard as an anvil.
"You love Marsha?" she whispered, coaxingly leaning toward him. "You bet!" answered Silan, with emphasis, stretching out toward her his powerful arms. "Come now, don't tease me!" She twisted her body with the movements of a cat, and once more leaned toward him. "We shall upset the steering again," whispered he, kissing her face which burned under his lips. "Shut up now!
"Don't tire yourself Mashourka," he continued, watching her, as with her pole she made a skilful movement. She was round and plump, with black, bright eyes and ruddy cheeks; barefooted, dressed only in a damp petticoat, which clung to her body, and showed the outline of her figure. She turned her face to Silan and, smiling pleasantly, said: "You take too much care of me; I'm all right!"
"I kiss you, but I don't take care of you," answered Silan, moving his shoulders. "That's not good enough!" she replied, provokingly; and they both were silent, looking at each other with desiring eyes. Under the rafts, the water gurgled musically. On the right bank, very far off, a cock crew.
This new field of Silan was assigned to the Society of Jesus from the year 1599, as the people of those villages, among whom were some Christians, were without a priest to minister to them, although they were but a day's journey from Manila.
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