There is an interesting golf course shadow of a live voleano. voleano is the Mayen (pronounced Myown), on the island of Luzon, and is a symmetrical crater, rising from rice paddifields to the magnificent height of 9,000 ft. Bundles of cotton-white clouds arried by 3 the high winds pile up on Mayon's ide or wind softly about the crater ike folds of chiffon. Up the sides for a shore distance the green cogon grass; a few Zed tufts of cocoanut palm thrown out against the sky. At the top the crater is cut sharply level, and its diameter from rim to rim is a quarter of a mile. In the shadow of this brooding figure, with its thin tongue of whitish vapour licking the sky, lies our seven-hole golf links.
None of us in this ays a writer in the imes," had known much about golf. Few had ever held a club. But we sent to Manila, 400 mil away, for clubs and bags. It was the doctor of the community that got the golf links inspiration—"a Scotch pill" he called it. An army post once flourished on this picture-que shore, and the old parade grounds were still intact. Tread of drilling feet had packed it solid, and now only a matted coarse grass grows upon it. It is close to majestic Mayon's southern base, and fas a green fringe of the largest and finest of cocoanut. The quart-_ ers, low, with spacious screened porches, are cooled by these great alms, and the wind sighs through the ragged fronds. I, was an ideal location. Every one lent his "boys," and even worked himself—an unheard-of thing in the tropies—to clear it for a course. At first'we had no bunkers,"but these were quired gradually. The main th was to. commence playing, this we did. An old- Spanish highway passed through the centre of the course, and this
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.