"Piang!" called Kali Pandapatan.
The noises of the barrio were hushed. Their dato had spoken. Thename was repeated, and gradually the call reached the charm boy,idly dangling his feet in a clear brook, attracting and scatteringthe curious fish. He sprang to his feet, listened, and darted off. Hissleek, well fashioned limbs glistened in the sunlight, and the sarongthat was gracefully flung over one shoulder floated out behind like aflame fanned by the wind. Twined in his long black hair was a wreathof scarlet fire flowers; every face brightened as he fled past.
"You have again brought the sign, Piang. When do we fight?" askedKali Pandapatan.
"Not until we have delivered the _siwaka_ (tribute) to the sultan atCotabato. The fire-tree has not yet bloomed in the enemy's country,and we may yet pass through safely," Piang replied.
"You have spoken," said the dato and laid his palms on the youth'shead.
Though the latent passion of battle stirred in the Moros' breasts,they were compelled to heed. Piang had proved a wise charm boy, andthe tribe must obey him. Each season the siwaka must be carried overthe steep, treacherous trail down to the coast, and those detailedto accompany the slaves who carried the bags of rice and _comoties_(sweet-potatoes), dreaded the trip. Added to the pitfalls of theobscure trail, were hostile territories to be traversed, and if theenemies' fire-tree had bloomed, they would surely be attacked andprobably despoiled of their cargo.
"We will need warriors to guard the siwaka, chief," Piang remindedKali, and the chief nodded and gave a quiet order. Every mandisappeared from the streets. When they returned, in place of thegaudy, tight trousers, they were wearing loose, black pantaloons,the garb of battle. The women, true to the feminine nature, wailed andcried aloud, but in their hearts they, too, were glad that the quiet,monotonous days were over, and that before nightfall they might sleepin some strange cota (fort), slave or wife of the victorious dato.
"Piang," murmured a soft voice at the charm boy's elbow, and he turnedto find the little slave girl, Papita, timidly looking up at him.
"_Chiquita?_" ("Little one?") he questioned.
"Sicto goes with you. Beware of him, for he would kill you!"
"I am not afraid," proudly answered Piang, "but why would Sictokill me?"
Solemnly the little girl touched Piang's breast where lay hidden thesacred charm.
"He would kill you so that he might be charm boy of the tribe,"whispered the girl. Piang laughed gaily, patted his little friend onthe arm, and bounded to the head of the forming column. Neverthelesshe noticed Sicto's sly, surly glance as the slaves and warriors bentbefore him.
Amid beating of tom-toms, wails of women, and howls of dogs, thecolumn, single file, dipped into the jungle and was lost to sight.
Anxiously Piang watched for signs of the fire-tree as they slippedalong through the enemies' country, but as yet the buds had notstirred, and he was thankful that the warm rains had not come to coaxthem into glow. That whole day the party toiled silently through thedense cogon grass that covered the mesa. High above their heads wavedthe wiry, straw-colored spines. Its sharp edges cut into the flesh,tore through cloths, stinging and paining old wounds. Not a breath ofair reached them through the impenetrable mass, and the sun beat downon them mercilessly. For long stretches the path tunneled through thegrass, boring deeper into the tangle, and they were almost suffocatedby the choking dust that stung their nostrils.
"_Iki!_" ("Beware!") called Sicto. Every bolo was out, every savageready, but the word was passed along the line that the leader,Sicto, had stepped on a snake. Entirely surrounded by the cruelgrass the column paused. The heat, increased by the oven-liketunnel grew steadily worse, and those in the rear gasped and foughtfor breath. They could hear the scuffle as the leaders fought thereptile, and the fetid odor of the dread creature added to theirdiscomfort. Sicto had been swinging along ahead, stepping lightly onthe mattress-like turf, when he felt something move under his foot. Itwas well under the matted grass, but it was wise to despatch thecreature if possible. Piang came to his assistance, and the snake,probably gorged with rotting meat, exuded a terrible odor as it wasstabbed to death. Kicking the wriggling remains out of the path thecolumn pushed on, wondering if they would ever come to the end ofthe stifling tunnel.
"Will it rain soon, Piang?" panted Tooloowee, as he toiled alongbehind the charm boy.
"I cannot tell yet, but by sunset we shall know."
Toward evening the grass thinned perceptibly, and the steaming,aching bodies felt the cool air rustling through the stalks.
"We are near the jungle; soon we shall be cool," sighed KaliPandapatan. Yes, it was growing cooler; they could breathe again,but Piang knew that before morning they would be shivering with cold,that the rain would come in the night. He smelled it, the rain thatwould not come to help them through the arduous day.
When it came, there was a shout of joy. Kali looked anxiously at hissweating tribesmen. After the terrific heat of the day, this rain wouldchill them, and fever would surely follow; he must keep them on themove. There was a murmur of protest as the order was given to move;they had rested a scant two hours. By nine o'clock they were underway again, struggling with the jungle as they had fought the mesa. Thedownpour was straight and steady. It burrowed through the thick foliageand ran down the tree trunks in torrents. The footing became uncertain,and Piang warned Kali to look out for broken limbs. For many yards thepath lay along fallen tree trunks, slippery with moss and mold. Thefooting became so treacherous that the order was given to crawl on allfours, and the progress was painfully slow and tedious. Frequentlythey strayed from the path and were forced to halt. The torches atthe head of the column twinkled and flickered fitfully, but they onlyseemed to make the darkness more visible; they sputtered and flared,but the flames resisted the rain, and to the weary Moros they seemedlike good spirits sent to guide them through the terrible jungle night.
Palm leaves, strewn in the path, had long clusters of needle-likespines at their bases that pierced their feet, and the cry "_tinick!_"("thorns!") rang out frequently through the night. Finally it becamenecessary to march close up, in solid line, each man with his hand onthe shoulder of the man in front. When the leader warned "_Cajui!_"("Log!"), each repeated it as he stumbled over the obstacle, and ifone fell, half the line would be bowled over.
"_Tubig Malakee!_" cried Piang. ("The big water!") Yes, the dullmurmur of the river was plainly heard through the dripping rain,and they all quickened their pace in the desire to rid themselves ofthe jungle. Piang attempted to guide them across, but he walked intothe water and sank from sight, and there was a cry of horror, for itseemed that one of the many crocodiles had dragged him under. Whenhe came up sputtering and splashing, none the worse for his dip,he chided them for their little faith and pointed significantly tohis charm. He had miscalculated in the blackness of the night andcould not locate the ford. A drizzling rain was still falling; greathairy-legged spiders skated over the water, making things grewsome;the large lily-pad leaves moved suspiciously, so Kali gave the ordersto camp for the rest of the night.
Silently the Moros prepared their camp. Deftly the ends of low-lyingbranches were pinioned to the ground with forked sticks; over thesesupports hemp and banana leaves were strewn to shield the sleepersfrom the heavy dew and rain. After many attempts a fire was coaxedinto life, much to the dismay of the jungle folk. A beautiful goldenfly-catcher, probably mistaking the glare of the fire for dawn, awokeand began to sing at the top of its tiny voice; a parrot screamedlustily. A venerable old monkey, sleepily rubbing its eyes, shookits fist, muttering profanely. Sicto, exasperated at the persistentmaledictions, raised his bow.
"Do not kill the monkey, Sicto," warned Piang. "It is not good tokill in the jungle except for food or self-protection!"
A scowl was the only reply, but the big mestizo lowered his bow andturned over on his bed of leaves.
"Kali, we are no longer safe," Piang whispered as he crouched overthe improvised bed of his chief.
"Sssshhhh," he wa
rned, finger on lip. "Do not wake the others." Thenhe pointed toward a spot where hoards of fireflies clustered aroundone tree, twinkling and swerving to and fro. It was a beautiful sight,but far from a novel one to these two.
"The fire-tree!" muttered Kali.
"Yes," answered Piang. "The rain has brought the blooms to the valley,and we will be attacked to-morrow!" Silently they gazed at the strangetree. Fireflies abandon every tree and shrub for the fire-tree themoment it puts forth its buds, and nothing can coax them away untilthe ominous scarlet blossoms have drooped and fallen to the ground.
"We dare not cross the river now, Kali," said Piang, "but we canbuild rafts and float down to Cotabato."
And so it was decided. Early in the muggy dawn the warriors set towork constructing rafts out of bamboo and ratan (palm), and soon thesiwaka was loaded and the journey continued by water.
Arrogantly Piang rode at the head of the procession, his proud littlehead crowned with a wreath of fire-tree blooms, the corners of hisraft decorated with sprigs of the flaming buds. Cautiously theypoled down the swift stream, avoiding treacherous logs and snappingcrocodiles. Piang chuckled with delight as they stole along, for theenemy would not discover the ruse until they were far away.
It was some time before Sicto was missed. His name was passed fromraft to raft, but none had seen him that morning. At first it wasfeared that one of the crocodiles had pulled him from a raft, butsomething seemed to tell Piang that the wily half-breed had stolenaway to warn the enemy of Kali's strategy. Once the news of the richbooty to be captured and the prisoners to be taken had reached thevalley people, nothing could keep them from pursuing, now that theirfire-tree had bloomed. A solemn conclave was held.
The river is almost inaccessible from the jungle except at one point,the Big Bend. This is a favorite camping-ground of the valley peopleduring the combat season; here their sacrifices are offered, theirvictims thrown to the crocodiles; they exercise full control of theriver. If Sicto succeeded in warning the enemy before Kali reachedthat point there would be little hope of escape. Another force wouldsurely be posted where he had embarked, cutting Kali off from hisreinforcements at home. It was too late to attempt a retreat, however,hampered as they were with the cumbersome siwaka. Reach that bendfirst, they must.
"The charm, Piang," whispered Kali. Springing to his feet, the boyuttered a fierce "Oola." Every head bowed, and the sacred talismanwas exposed.
"Forward, brothers!" he cried. "Forward with all your strength!"
The sun came out, and the dripping jungle began to steam. Palm leaveswere constructed into hats to guard against sunstroke. Toward sunsetthey drew near the danger point. What was that monotonous sound dullyvibrating through the jungle? Anxiously all eyes turned toward Piang.
"It is well, brothers," bravely comforted the boy. "Yes, that is thetom-tom of your enemy. Sicto has betrayed us, but have no fear. Piang,the charm boy leads you; take courage, and Allah, the Merciful, willgive you victory." Piang commenced a murmur of prayer, and the Moros,joining in, filled the fast-settling night with whispered invocationswhich drifted off through the jungle.
Another council of war was held.
"Piang, if they have had time to lay the boom, what shall we do?"
"Go forward, Kali. Fight your way through the blockade," answered thecharm boy. "I will remain here with a few men to guard to siwaka. Doyou hide at the first bend until the moon gives you light, thenstrike!"
The astonished warriors looked with misgiving from one to the other,but Kali answered firmly:
"It shall be so, Piang."
The Moros were quickly assembled for the advance, and Kali paused bythe side of Piang's raft:
"If we are driven back, Piang, I will give three calls of themina-bird. Answer likewise and retreat as quickly as possible."
"Forward, Kali Pandapatan," answered Piang with great dignity. "Wewill not retreat."
Like ghosts in the night the little handful of men parted from theirfellows and courageously faced the river and its dangers. The stream,swerving to the left, flows on to the apex of the Big Bend. Asif regretting its departure from the true course, it doubles backand returns to take up its original direction at a point separatedfrom its first departure by only a few rods. Between the two pointsis a waste of murky soil and sand, covered by dense growths of thejungle's choicest variety of obstacles. Gloomily Piang contemplatedthe morass that lay between him and freedom. Long he sat, looking intothe distance where he could almost see the river as it completed thecurve and swept on to the ocean. What would he not give to be safelyon the other side? Suddenly he sat up very straight. Why not? Thesand was soft, the current swift. If he could only make a narrow ditchacross the flats. Pulling his raft up to the right side of the river,he jumped to the bank, but when he sank ankle-deep in the soft, stickyearth, he climbed hastily back. Poling along he searched for a solidfooting, but everywhere the marshy soil gave, and he abandoned hisattempts to land. The night grew deeper, blacker.
"Why not, why not?" he whispered again. The others came scurrying upin response to his excited call.
"My brothers, Allah has sent me wisdom," he announced. "It is yourduty to obey me!" Eagerly they listened, glad of any distraction,but when Piang explained that he wanted them to abandon their safebamboo floats for the treacherous flats, home of crocodiles and vermin,there was a murmuring protest. Anger blazed in Piang's eyes.
"Am I not charm boy?" he demanded. "Any one who refuses to obey mewill be thrown to the crocodiles!" Gradually the dominant natureoverruled their timidities, and the protests subsided. FollowingPiang's directions, strips of bamboo were cut, and the charm boyconstructed light frames for his feet. They looked like snow-shoes,and when he bound one securely to each foot and jumped lightly to thebank, there was a cry of surprise. Piang, the wonderful, was indeedsent by Allah to guide them!
In a twinkling each Moro was supplied with similar mud-shoes, andlike giant land-crabs, they flitted off across the marsh. Too wiseto begin before reconnoitering, Piang led his men to the banks ofthe stream below to Big Bend. After hasty calculations he set themto work digging toward the head waters, following a line of ratanwhich he stretched to guide them.
Faster, faster flew the scoops and broad knives; deeper, wider grewthe ditch that was to form a new river-bed. Piang was everywhere. Heflew about on his light frames as lightly as a faun, directing theconstruction of new tools, calculating and measuring for the ditch.
Once he heard a call from the man guarding the rafts. A troop of wildhogs, attracted by the comoties, was trying to reach the rafts. Pianglighted a torch and hurled it among them. Crocodiles lurked near,and he ordered torches kept burning to frighten them also.
New difficulties confronted Piang. Would the water not at first rushthrough the ditch with such force that the rafts would be dashedto pieces? He held a branch in the current; it was torn from hisgrasp. With great foresight, he ordered all the floats to be takenup the river and securely moored. Back to the ditch he flew. Yes,yes, it was going to be successful! Before the attack was made byKali Pandapatan, Piang would have the rafts through the cut-off,safely on their journey to the estuary. How surprised the dato wouldbe when Piang advanced against the enemy from the other side of theBig Bend! He laughed softly, hugging himself in boyish delight.
Away he pattered toward some men who were apparently in difficulty.
"_Halamantek!_" ("Leeches!") they called. They were pulling theslothful creatures off each other, but as soon as they freed themselvesfrom the pests, more fell from above or crept up from the mud. Pianghad foreseen this difficulty and had supplied himself with a smallgourd filled with cocoanut oil, strongly saturated with cinchona(quinine). Offering some of his small store to the men, they gratefullyrubbed the mixture into their flesh and bent to their task again. Piangexhorted them to work, warning them if the ditch was not completedbefore moonrise, all would be lost, and off he danced blending in withthe night and its secrets like a picturesque _pampahilep_ (jungle imp).
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p; Only Moros could have accomplished so difficult a task in thedark. With a will they sturdily plied the crude tools and beforethe blackness of the night had been lifted by the rising moon, theexcited little party was crowding around Piang as he examined the fewremaining feet to be accomplished. Like a general meeting a crisis,Piang sharply gave his orders:
"Tooloowee, take your pole and stand on the far side of the ditch. WhenI give the signal, push the dyke with all your might." He stationedanother powerful Moro opposite Tooloowee.
"Bungao, do you hasten to the rafts and prepare to resist the firstflood that will sweep through the ditch."
When all was ready Piang raised his hand and the struggle began. Littleby little the soft mud was worked away, and the current, feelingthe banks weaken, seemed to lose interest in its natural bed. Atfirst the stream only caressed its new-found outlet, but graduallyit concentrated its forces, and, with a mighty rush, attacked theslight remaining resistance and went thundering off into the ditch. Asmothered cry went up from the Moros:
"Piang! Piang!" How they loved their wise little charm boy!
But the work was not yet completed. Piang let go his anchorage andheaded for the mouth of the ditch. The water was rapidly wideningthe work of their hands, but in places the cut-off was barely wideenough to let the long slender floats by, and the water was rushingthrough with terrific force. The moon trembled on the brink of thejungle. Would they reach the other side in time to aid Kali? Supposehe was driven back before Piang and his men could attack from theother side?
"_Ala! ala!_" ("Quickly! quickly!") Piang called softly. His raftcame up with a sudden jerk, almost throwing him into the seething,muddy torrent. Other rafts bumped into his, and soon a blockade wasforming as the swift current bore them down upon him. Piang cut andslashed at the banks, tearing away protruding vines and accumulatingdriftwood. The moon, the moon, would it wait? Frantically he toiledwhile Tooloowee held off the other rafts with his long pole. WhenPiang's float was finally released, it bounded joyously along, nosingfirst one bank, then the other. The river! He could see it! Only afew rods more!
At the mouth of the ditch there was more trouble. Mud and debris hadcollected along the sides, but these were quickly worked through andthey passed into the main river. Little short of a miracle had beenperformed. The ditch was growing wider and deeper every moment andjudging from the enormous flow of water, it would not be long beforethe river deserted its circuitous route in favor of this direct one.
"Quick! quick!" whispered Piang. "Bungao, bind the siwaka raftstogether and head for Cotabato. We will overtake you beforesunrise." A faint cry reached them. Kali had begun the attack. Inan agony of suspense the brave Moros worked their way up toward theBig Bend. Suddenly Piang grasped Tooloowee's arm and pointed towarda streak that ran across the river.
"The boom! We must cut it!" They made a dash toward the obstacle thatstood in Kali's path, but an arrow whizzed by their heads.
"Tooloowee, we have been discovered. I go to cut the way!" and beforethe astonished Tooloowee could prevent, Piang had dived into thewater and disappeared.
"Piang, the crocodiles, the crocodiles!" wailed Tooloowee, but thecharm boy could not hear as he slipped up the muddy river, swimmingeasily under water. Just as Kali was preparing to retreat, driven backby the fierce storm of arrows, he gave the signal that had been agreedupon. Three loud calls in imitation of the mina-bird went wailingthrough the night. What was Kali's surprise to hear the answer a fewyards in front of him! And what was that dark shape bobbing up anddown on the boom?
While he watched, amazed, the big clumsy logs divided, and swung slowlyout, leaving the channel clear. Piang had severed the ratan thongs.
"Leeeee lelele ouiiiiii!" crashed through the night, and Kalirecognized his tribal war-cry.
"Piang! Piang!" he cried. The dark shape, clinging to the driftingboom answered, and Kali rushed toward it. Before the enemy couldgather their scattered wits, the whole party was sweeping by, ontoward freedom. As Kali bore down on Piang, the boy raised himselfto meet the raft. It was coming at a terrific rate, and he feared itwould knock him off the boom; measuring the distance, he prepared toleap. On came the raft, Kali leaning far over the side, arms extendedto grab the boy. When Kali was only a few yards off, Piang screamed:
"_Boia! boia!_" ("Crocodile! crocodile!") The men on the raft saw thewater stir and hurled spear and arrow, but they glanced off the scalyhide. It was a race with death, and what a miserable death for Piang,their idol! The boy grew cold and sick as he waited. Suddenly the raftpaused, held in check by Kali's pole. Piang almost fainted. What washis chief doing? In a moment he realized that the quick action hadsaved his life. The raft swerved, bumped against the crocodile, andcame between it and Piang. The next moment Piang was in Kali's arms.
In the light of the gray dawn, Sicto watched these two as they gazedinto each other's eyes; they swept triumphantly by, heedless offlying arrows. The radiant fire-tree blooms still clustered aroundPiang's head, and his sacred charm gleamed in the early light. Firmlybelieving that spirits had aided Piang in his remarkable feat, Sictotrembled with fear, and, with a last glance at the victorious charmboy, he turned and fled into the jungle.
Wonderingly, Kali Pandapatan and his followers viewed the new cut-offas they floated by. Amazed, they listened to the marvelous tale. OldDato Kali Pandapatan laid his hands once again on his favorite's head:
"Little brother," he said, "this shall be known as Piang'sCut-off. Some day you will be the greatest dato in Mindanao."
Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy Page 10
