Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy
Page 26
Christmas morning dawned sultry and heavy. The mist lifted afterreveille and the troops were astonished that the _Sabah_ haddisappeared. Their surprise was greater to find a corporal in chargeof the camp. There was a positive order that no trooper should enterthe barrio, and an air of mystery hung over the whole camp. Wherewas the gunboat, the lieutenant, the sergeant, and the interpreter,Piang? The corporal shook his head to all these questions.
Suddenly rapid firing was heard in the direction of the barrio,and every soldier seized his gun and ran into the company streets,but the corporal, calm and undisturbed, dismissed them.
Nervously the men wandered about; the two wounded men became the centerof attraction and related for the hundredth time their sensationswhen the juramentado had struck them down. They were not seriouslywounded, but the cruel cuts were displayed, and they did not provean antidote to the tenseness of the situation.
The firing had ceased after about ten minutes, and new sounds tookits place: wails and shrieks, the crackling of bamboo, told the storyof the burning village. But who had attacked the town? The corporalsmiled to himself, quietly.
Cheerily a whistle rang out, sending the men running to the beach;there was the _Sabah_, tripping jauntily through the water towardher recent mooring-place, and on her deck, smiling and waving, werethe missing men.
"Merry Christmas," Lewis greeted the men, as he walked down thecompany street. Stopping at the cook's tent, he inquired what therewas for dinner.
"Beans, bacon, and hardbread," was the reply.
"Tough menu for Christmas, eh, cook?"
Since their arrival, every turkey and duck had disappeared, and thebarrio offered nothing to enhance their limited ration. It was anold trick; the natives objected to sharing their food with soldiers,and as soon as any troops landed on the island, ever possible articlewas spirited away into the jungle.
It was a bad day for every one. Most of the men were homesick, andthey all felt the shadow of impending disaster; only Lewis and hisconfidants realized the seriousness of the situation, however.
"Corporal, take four men with bolos and cut six banana trees," calledLewis. "Plant them in a row down the company street."
Curiosity and amusement were mingled with indifference as the menstarted toward the thicket to execute the order. What had comeover the lieutenant? Obediently the trees were brought, and Lewissuperintended the planting. The squad was kept busy cutting fernsand palms, and it began to dawn on the astonished men that they werepreparing for a holiday. The spirit was taken up generally, and thegloom was gradually dispelled.
"Here, Jake, hang this mistletoe up over the folding doors," commandedthe corporal, handing him a bamboo shoot, and pointing to the tentdoor. "Now when she comes asailin' in to dinner, all unaware of yourpresence, smack her a good one, right on the bull's eye."
Laughter and shouts greeted this order, and when Kid Conner offered toimpersonate a lovely damsel and, with mincing step and bashful mien,appeared at the opening, Jake was game, and a skuffle ensued. Shrieksof merriment coming from the cook tent aroused Lewis's curiosity, andeven his weighty matters were forgotten when he beheld Irish cookyon his knees before the incinerator arranging a row of well-wornsocks. Solemnly folding his hands he raised his eyes in supplication:
"Dear Santa, don't forget your children in this far-away jungle. Weare minus a chimney on this insinuator, but we are bettin' on you andthe reindeers just the same, to slip one over on us and come shinnin'down a cocoanut-tree with your pack. Never mind the trimmin's andholly, just bring plenty of cut plug and dry matches."
And so the day worn on. Toward noon the storm broke; runners announcedthe approach of the sultan, and Lewis was far from calm when he gavethe order to admit him to camp.
"Piang," he said, "there is the deuce to pay, I know, but you stickby your uncle, and we will pull through."
No insignificant nigger greeted Lewis this time. The sultan had comein state. Where he had gathered his train, the men could not imagine,but there he was, garbed in royal raiment, attended by slaves andretainers. Solemnly the procession advanced. Advisers, wives, slaves,and boys with buyo-boxes followed his majesty, who was arrayed in a redsilk sarong, grotesquely embroidered with glass beads, colored stones,and real pearls. His hair was festooned with trinkets strung on wire,and on his fingers were fastened tiny bells that jingled and tinkledincessantly. They got on Lewis's nerves, and he quaked inwardly whenhe realized why he was honored by this visit.
Finally when the members of the court had arranged themselves aroundtheir master, he loftily signaled for his buyo; Lewis, nothingdaunted, motioned to his striker. Amid smothered laughter he producedthe lieutenant's pipe and tobacco, using a tin wash-basin for atray. Mimicking the actions of the royal slave the man salaamed beforeLewis and proffered the pipe. Lest the sultan should despise his barrenstate, minus slaves, advisers, and wives, Lewis summoned Sergeant Greerand directed him to remain beside him to share the honor of the visit.
When Lewis caught Irish cooky, arrayed in apron and undershirt, witha basting spoon and a meat ax held at attention, making faces at hisold sergeant, the humor of the situation came over him, and he smiledto himself as he looked at the scene before him: the banana-trees,loosely flapping their wilted leaves, the socks idly waiting tobe the center of merriment again, the troop drawn up at attention,regardless of the variety of uniform, and beyond, the _Sabah_, solereminder of civilization, bobbing at anchor.
Never removing his eyes from Lewis's face, the sultan completedthe ceremony of the buyo, and after deliberately rolling a quid ofbetel-nut, lime-dust, and tobacco leaves, the august person stuffedit into his mouth.
The trees rang with silence. Lewis thought his ears would burst ashe strained them to catch the first sound that was to decide hisfate. Faithfully Piang remained by his friend's side, despite theangry glances directed toward him from the sultan's party; the ladwas fearful of the outcome of this tangle.
Finally the spell was broken. Women giggled, slaves flitted about,administering to the wants of the party, and the interpreter rose todeliver the complaint.
Had there not been a treaty of peace signed between Moroland andAmerica?
"Yes," replied Lewis. "And I am happy to serve a government that greetsthe Moro as brother." The sultan stirred, perplexed by the reply.
"Then what right had that boat," asked the interpreter, pointing tothe _Sabah_, "to shell the barrio, destroying property and killing?"
This question was received by Lewis and the sergeant with gravesurprise. Solemnly they exchanged inquiring glances, then inmock indignation glowered at the _Sabah_. The _Sabah_ disturb thepeace? When had that happened?
Insolently the interpreter related the story of the attack, and arustle of surprise and delight ran through the troop. SorrowfullyLewis and the sergeant shook their heads, and the sultan, puzzledat first, began to realize that he was dealing with a new kind of"Americano." The two men's heads bent lower and lower as they sorrowedover the misdemeanor of their little boat. Weighed down with grief,Lewis signaled Piang to prepare for his reply to the noble visitor.
How could he (Lewis) appease the powerful sultan for this mishap? Whatamends could he make for the treachery of his little gunboat? Noteven he [his hands went up in imitation of the sultan's own gestureof the day before] could help it, powerful officer though he was. Itwas Christmas, a most holy day, and doubtless before dawn the truantcraft had slipped out of the harbor without permission and had gonejuramentadoing.
"Attention!" commanded Sergeant Greer, startling the troop intorigidness. Their delight had almost expressed itself in a whoop.
With exaggerated gestures, Lewis continued.
Did the Moro not have similar customs? And did the sultannot sympathize with him in his inability to stop this dreadfulpractice in the Celebes Sea? American boats are dangerous on theirfeast days, and no one can tell when they may go juramentadoing tocelebrate the occasion. That is the only custom they could celebrateto-day. Look! [He pointed at the pitiful
banana-trees.] There are nogifts to adorn them with, no turkeys to kill; and the soldiers' heartsare sad. But the _Sabah_ evidently appreciated her capabilities,and doubtless before night she would again honor her country byrecklessly shelling the jungle.
At this moment from the _Sabah_ a shrill whistle echoed through theforest, scattering the assembled guests in all directions. Some tookto trees, others threw themselves face down, on the ground.
The sultan was furious. He gruffly ordered his subjects back, and hisbeady eyes glared at the impostor, but he was too much of a diplomat todisplay his feelings further. The soldiers had been amused at first,but they realized the danger of trifling with the sultan. Every treeand corner of the jungle would respond with an armed savage, eagerto destroy them, should the order be given, and uneasy glances weredirected at the irate potentate. All the recent good humor and mirthhad vanished; only the sergeant and the lieutenant retained an air ofutter indifference. They quietly continued to smoke, gazing off intothe far horizon, oblivious of their surroundings. Were they pushingthat huge American bluff too far?
After long deliberation, the sultan apparently reached hisconclusion. He whispered an order, and several runners disappeared intothe jungle. Lewis heard the sergeant catch his breath, but the oldman preserved his dignity admirably. More silent waiting and smokingfollowed. The sultan growled his displeasure as an adviser attempted togive some piece of advice, displaying a far from lovely temper. Piangvaliantly stood his ground, ready to fight and die by his friend.
Finally sounds of the returning slaves reached the gathering. What wascoming? Armed savages? Or had he ordered his poison reptiles to be letloose among the soldiers? The stillness was oppressive. No one moved,and the sultan continued to study the averted face of the officer.
A sound floated to them, nearer, nearer. The men braced themselvesfor a fight. But the sound? It was one they had all heard, a familiar,homelike sound.
"Gobble-gobble!" It was answered from all directions. Gradually thetruth dawned on Lewis. He had won, and the warm blood rushed throughhis tired limbs.
"Turkeys, by gosh!" shouted a recruit, and the cry was taken up bythe whole command, for slaves were pouring in with fowls of everydescription. The sergeant vainly tried to establish order in the ranks,but the reaction was too great. All the good humor and excitement ofthe morning was restored, and the innate childishness of the soldierbegan to assert itself.
"Here, Jake, hang this fellow up on that tree so he can salute hismajesty in true turkey fashion," shouted one man, and Jake, game asusual, tossed a big gobbler up in one of the mock Christmas-trees. Fromthis point of vantage the bird made the jungle resound with itsprotests, while the troop screamed with laughter as Jake undertookto interpret the creature's address.
"Piang, what will we say to the old codger now?" asked Lewis.
"I ask for gift for _Sabah_; it keep her good," grinned the boy,and when he delivered that message to his majesty, a smile nearlydestroyed the immobility of his features. A slave handed Lewis apackage done up in green leaves, and when he curiously loosened thewrappings, a handful of seed-pearls, beautiful in luster and coloringfell in his palm.
"Thank him for the _Sabah_, Piang. I guess this will ease her restlessspirit, all right. Tell him it will also serve as a balm for thewounds of the men who were attacked by the juramentados."
Regally the old potentate rose to take leave. Lewis wanted to slaphim on the back in that "bully-for-you-old-top" manner, but the farcemust be completed. When the sultan paused opposite Lewis, measuringhim with those cruel, steely eyes, Lewis's only indiscretion was awavering of the eyelid, just one little waver, but it was very muchlike a wink. There was undoubtedly a response in the other's eyes,but that is between the sultan and Lewis.
As solemnly as they had come, the procession disappeared into thejungle. The giant trees, smothered by vines and noxious growths,swallowed the brilliant throng and seemed to symbolize the unionof the savage and the jungle. The sergeant's great, brawny hand wasextended and grasped by Lewis in appreciation of what they had beenthrough together.
Excitement reigned everywhere. The bedlam of fowls about to bedecapitated and the shrieks of the troopers vied with each other forsupremacy. Piang was being lionized by the men, toasted and praisedin high fashion.
When Lewis inspected the Christmas dinner, the old Irishman winkeda solemn wink, as he reminded the lieutenant of the discarded menu.
"You knew it all the time, sor; why didn't you put me on?" With anoncommittal smile, Lewis proceeded on his usual inspection tour. Afterhe had returned to his tent and was settling himself to enjoy thehard-earned meal, he was startled by an unusually loud outburst amongthe men. It gradually dawned upon him what it was. "Three cheersfor the lieutenant! Three cheers for Piang!" was the cry that wasdisturbing the jungle twilight.