Piang started guiltily. He must have overslept. The sun was high, butfor some reason the heat had not awakened him. Sitting up, he rubbedhis eyes, sniffed the air, and uttered a shout of joy. A gentle rainwas trickling through the foliage; the spell was broken; the junglewould live again. After hastily gathering a few nuts he climbed downthe tree and prepared for his journey, thankful that the droughtwas to be broken by the gentle "liquid sunshine," as it is called,instead of by a violent typhoon. Eating what he wanted of the soft,green cocoanut meat, he tied two nuts to the ends of a ratan strip,and, slinging them across his shoulder, was off again, darting hereand there to avoid the stinging vines and treacherous pitfalls.
How many days was he from Lake Lanao? He counted the suns that mustrise and set before he should arrive. There were four, if he should befortunate enough to find the Ganassi trail. Piang had not lost time byreturning to the coast to pick up the trail, but had trusted to hisinstinct to lead him aright. Surely, if he followed the sun by day,and the big bright evening star by night, he would come upon thetrail the second day. He must avoid the lake people at all costs;they were not to be trusted, and his life would pay the penalty ifthey caught him spying. Silently the jungle child sped along. Nothingescaped his watchful eye; no sound eluded his trained ear. Once hedarted aside just in time to escape the toils of the dread python asit swooped from above to claim its victim. Another time his bolo savedhim, and a wild civet-cat lay at his feet. Chuckling at his prowess,Piang drew his knife across the animal's belly, and slipped off theskin, almost whole. It would be useful to him, and maybe he couldfind the herb that is used to cure pelts.
It was very difficult traveling. The sun was not visible during theafternoon, and Piang lost his direction. Blundering here and there,he often came back to the same place. It was no use; he could not findthe trail without the assistance of sun or stars. Sometimes it wasdays before either could penetrate the dense mist that accompaniesthe tropical rains. Discouraged, he threw himself on the ground.
An unusual sound made him jerk his head up to listen. It came again,and the boy rose quietly to his feet, focusing his senses on thesound. Cautiously he advanced toward it. In the jungle it is alwayswiser to be the one to attack. The sound was repeated, and Piangbreathed easier. It was made by an animal, not by his dread lakeenemies. Gradually he crept nearer and when he parted the bushes andpeeped through, he almost shouted in his excitement. He had reachedthe Big Pass. A broad river swept rapidly by, and along the bankswild carabao rolled and splashed, making queer diminutive sounds, notin keeping with their ungainly size. Piang was careful to keep outof sight, as they are apt to be dangerous when their very uncertainnerves are startled.
For more than two days Piang fought his way through the entanglementof cogon grass and vicious vines, cutting and hewing his way,afraid to cross the river and follow the Ganassi trail. Finally,one rosy dawn, he came upon the lake as it sparkled and shimmered inthe early light. The boy held his breath, delighted with the beautyof the view. Far in the distance mountains rose in a blue and purplehaze. The lake was nestled in the heart of them, fed by many clearbrooks and springs. Its bed had once been the crater of an activevolcano, but Piang did not know this.
From his retreat, built high among the dense trees, Piang watchedthe lake people ply their way to and fro across the water. Somewhereon that lake was the secret of the floating rice, and the boy wasdetermined to discover the truth. He hid before dawn at the water'sedge near a spot that he had noticed was much frequented. As usual,a swarm of natives visited it about noon. Piang watched them dipup gourds and cocoanut-shell cups full of water. They strained itthrough cloths, repeating and repeating the action. He was sure it wasthe coveted rice that they were gathering and he impatiently waitedfor them to go; no sooner had they departed, however, than othersarrived to take up the task. There was nothing to do, but wait againfor dawn, and Piang wriggled himself back to his grove and mountedhis platform home.
He was very restless all night and hardly slept at all, so anxiouswas he for the first streaks of light. As he lay with eyes upturned,he watched the stars grow dim: before they had entirely disappeared,Piang was standing by the water ready for the dive. His bolo was slungat his side, and in his mouth he carried a smaller knife. One neverknows what one may meet at the bottom of an unknown lake, and Piangwas prepared for any emergency.
At last it was light, at last he could see into the clearlake. Climbing out on the rocks as far as he could, he let himselfdown into the cool water. How he rejoiced at the feel of it and howeasily he slipped along toward the spot where he had watched thenatives the day before!
He looked for signs of rice. Seaweed tricked him; bubbles vanishedand he reached to grasp them. Round and round he swam, and finallyhis hands closed over something small and slippery. Breathlessly hefingered it, and opening his hand as he trod water, he beheld themushy rice grains.
Taking a long survey, he assured himself that there was no one insight. Yesterday the Moros had not come before noon; and if he workedquickly, he might discover the secret to-day. Taking a long breath,Piang dived straight down and, swimming along the bottom, examinedthe rocks carefully; but he came back to the surface none the wiserfor his plunge. A puzzled look puckered his face. Tilting his headto one side, he considered. That was surely rice; it did not growhere, so it must come from under the water. Again he dived, but thistime he swam nearer the surface and he saw that there was more ricefloating by than he had imagined. It was not coming from the bottom,it was drifting from the center of the lake!
Excitedly he headed in that direction, swimming under water wheneverhe lost the trail of the rice. It was not strange that it only cameto the top in that one spot. There was a strong current that bore itupward, whirling it in an eddy before it sank to the bottom. Farther,farther he went, always swimming toward the center of the lake;and as he went, the rice grew thicker. Eagerly he plunged forward,keeping his eyes open, watching the rice.
He stopped. What was that dark object resting on the bottom? Hedid not know how exhausted he was until he paused for breath; then,knowing that his next dive would take him far down, he rolled over onhis back and floated quietly. Burning with curiosity, he could hardlywait to see what was there. Slowly he swam downward. Something warnedhim to be more careful, and afterward he was grateful for his caution,for had he plunged recklessly to the bottom, in all probability inwould have been his last dive.
He was aware of a large body moving near him and he dodged just in timeto avoid a collision, striking out for the surface. Lying flat on thewater, he peered into the depth and discovered several dark thingsswimming about. Frightened at first, he remembered that sharks andcrocodiles do not live in mountain lakes. Bravely he descended, butthis time he swam with his bolo in his hand. Down, down, and again hesaw the queer, square things flopping about. They were huge tortoises,clustered around a darker object at the very bottom of the lake. Oncemore Piang came to the top. He was not afraid now; tortoises do notfight unless attacked, and the boy could easily outswim any of theclumsy creatures. But what were they doing out there in the middle ofthe lake? Tortoises live near shoals and feed on fungi and roots. Ashe plunged down once more, he was met by a strong up-current and had tofight his way through. Tiny particles stung him as they rushed by, andit seemed to him that millions of fish were darting here and there,snapping at something. It was rice. Gradually it dawned on Piangthat he had reached his goal; the tortoise had reached it first,and the secret lay hidden in that dark thing at the bottom.
Frantically, but steadily, he worked his way down, avoiding weeds anddriftwood. The water grew calmer as he neared the bottom, the rush ofthe current less. His breath was almost gone; he could hardly standit a few seconds longer, but he must see what it was there. With onesupreme effort, he struggled and reached the hard sand of the lakefloor. A trifle dazed, he looked about, and there, towering above him,was a ship.
Piang was almost unconscious when he reached the air. Had hebeen dreaming? How could a ship be resting
on the bottom of LakeLanao? Restraining his curiosity, he forced himself to rest. Lying onhis back again, he took long regular breaths until he was entirelyrested. Slowly he descended and, avoiding contact with the loggytortoise, circled around the dark thing. Yes, it was a boat. Pianghad seen only one other boat like it in his life. It was only aboutthirty-five feet long, but to the boy it seemed to rise above himlike a mountain. Fascinated, he sank lower until he was standing onthe deck. The tortoises and fish paid no attention to him, and heexamined it carefully. The big tube, sticking up in its middle Piangrecognized as the thing that belches smoke, and along the sides,covered with slime and weeds, were small black objects. He had heardthat these boats hurl "hot-spit" into the jungle when they are angry,and he supposed it must come from these ugly things. All this occupiedonly a few seconds, but to Piang it seemed like years. Making a hastyascent, he again filled his lungs and prepared to explore farther. Ashe worked his way back, he crossed the current that was bearing therice to the surface and remembered his mission. Following the milkytrail, he arrived at the stern of the boat and shuddered to see themass of animal life clustered there. Worming his way alongside, hefrightened the swarming creatures, and they scattered, leaving him aclear view of the boat. Only one old tortoise refused to be disturbed,and Piang watched it pull and bite at something. He was very closeto it, when suddenly something blinded him. He put out his hands toward it off, but the rush increased, and when he found his way to thetop his hands were full of soggy rice. The old tortoise had torn theend of a rice-sack, and the contents were being whirled upward.
As the boy lay on the water, reviewing his remarkable discovery,his strength almost exhausted, he was startled into the realizationof a new danger. Quickly he dived, but not before a man in a vinta,headed that way, had seen him. Piang was caught. In his excitementhe had failed to watch for the coming of his enemies, and now hemust fight. Swiftly the vinta approached. Piang could see it throughthe water and he watched until it was over his head. With a lunge,he struck at it with all his might, upsetting it and throwing theoccupant out. With a yell the man grabbed Piang, and the startled boyrecognized his old enemy, Sicto, the outcast, who drifted from tribeto tribe, a parasite on all who would tolerate him. He was makinghis home with the lake people just now and had discovered Piang'shiding-place. Guessing that the boy was after the secret of the rice,he had watched his chance and had pounced on him when he was leastable to protect himself.
Over and over they rolled, splashing and fighting. Piang was strugglingfor breath, but luckily he still had his bolo in his hand. The bigbully was sure to win the fight unless Piang could escape soon, ashe was already winded and exhausted. A happy thought flashed throughPiang's mind. He watched for one of the tortoises to swim near thesurface, and then shrieking "Crocodile," he pointed toward it. Whenthe frightened Sicto shrank from the tortoise, Piang struck with allhis might, but he was so weak and his knife was so heavy that he onlystunned his adversary.
Then he was away like a flash. Before the bully could recover, Pianghad righted the vinta and was paddling off in the direction of theriver. Sicto tried to follow him, but Piang only laughed and paddledfaster. He was free again; he had a boat, and knew the secret of therice. Allah was indeed good to little Piang.
Rapidly he plied his paddle. The current was against him as he headedfor the mouth of the river, but he worked steadily and soon lostsight of the infuriated Sicto.
He paused. Coming out of the river was a flotilla of boats. They werethe usual rice-fishers, and he must pass them to gain the outlet. Whatif they called to him? He could not speak their dialect, and theywould surely recognize Sicto's boat. He did not think they had seenhim, so he changed his course to the east-ward and slowly paddled inthat direction. They soon passed behind him, paying no attention tothe solitary boatman, and he thankfully headed toward the river. Assoon as the men reached Sicto, he would tell them of the fight, andthey would give chase. Piang's chances of escape were indeed slim,but he had a little start.
Stubbornly he fought the current; patiently he worked against theswift water. At last he was in the river, but he knew that by thistime the Moros were in pursuit. That they did not appear in the riverbehind him was no reason to feel safe. He was sure they would try tohead him off by land, as the river wound round and round through thevalleys. The odds were certainly against Piang. He was in a strangecountry, unfamiliar with the trails and hunted by the swiftest tribeof Moros. The Ganassi trail was out of the question. It would belined with the lake people watching for him. The jungle, which hehad worked his way through, would be searched, and his recent campingsite discovered. Every passable trail to his home would be watched.
Suddenly Piang remembered the "Americano" soldiers. Theylived somewhere off in the other direction, beyond the terriblemarshlands. Without a moment's hesitation, he headed toward the shore,pulled up the vinta, and secured it. He then plunged into the streamand swam to the opposite shore. When the lake people found the vinta,they would search that side of the jungle. Piang was pleased athis ruse.
Bravely the boy faced his only avenue of escape. The journey throughthe marshlands and over the mountains was considered impossible,but Piang was not discouraged. Searching the surrounding jungle, hemade sure that he had not been discovered, and, turning his back onhis home as well as on his enemies, headed toward the distant peaks,the Dos Hermanas.
Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy Page 19
