In this green expanse with Mount Angas for a crown The Nacuron and Igabon Ranges stretch out like open arms sheltering small and silent streams that slithe to their levels cascade down labyrinths and waterfalls and meet the River Pan-ay at their mouths with the ripples of a warm touch: like the handshake of a comrade long in waiting. Here the waters in summer are tranquil,   a prelude   to that other season of fury when monsoon rain turns streams into rivers: swift earthy snakes cleansing demons of destruction sweeping all debris in frenzied abandon headlong to melt with the waiting sea.   Here as elsewhere Nature behaves like patriots driven to destinies of their own making . . . . .