The Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy Part 5

"Go forward, Kali. Fight your way through the blockade," answered the charm boy. "I will remain here with a few men to guard to siwaka. Do you hide at the first bend until the moon gives you light, then strike!"

The astonished warriors looked with misgiving from one to the other, but Kali answered firmly:

"It shall be so, Piang."

The Moros were quickly a.s.sembled for the advance, and Kali paused by the side of Piang's raft:

"If we are driven back, Piang, I will give three calls of the mina-bird. Answer likewise and retreat as quickly as possible."

"Forward, Kali Pandapatan," answered Piang with great dignity. "We will not retreat."

Like ghosts in the night the little handful of men parted from their fellows and courageously faced the river and its dangers. The stream, swerving to the left, flows on to the apex of the Big Bend. As if regretting its departure from the true course, it doubles back and returns to take up its original direction at a point separated from its first departure by only a few rods. Between the two points is a waste of murky soil and sand, covered by dense growths of the jungle's choicest variety of obstacles. Gloomily Piang contemplated the mora.s.s that lay between him and freedom. Long he sat, looking into the distance where he could almost see the river as it completed the curve and swept on to the ocean. What would he not give to be safely on the other side? Suddenly he sat up very straight. Why not? The sand was soft, the current swift. If he could only make a narrow ditch across 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, sticky earth, he climbed hastily back. Poling along he searched for a solid footing, but everywhere the marshy soil gave, and he abandoned his attempts to land. The night grew deeper, blacker.

"Why not, why not?" he whispered again. The others came scurrying up in response to his excited call.

"My brothers, Allah has sent me wisdom," he announced. "It is your duty to obey me!" Eagerly they listened, glad of any distraction, but when Piang explained that he wanted them to abandon their safe bamboo 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 me will be thrown to the crocodiles!" Gradually the dominant nature overruled their timidities, and the protests subsided. Following Piang's directions, strips of bamboo were cut, and the charm boy constructed light frames for his feet. They looked like snow-shoes, and when he bound one securely to each foot and jumped lightly to the bank, there was a cry of surprise. Piang, the wonderful, was indeed sent by Allah to guide them!

In a twinkling each Moro was supplied with similar mud-shoes, and like giant land-crabs, they flitted off across the marsh. Too wise to begin before reconnoitering, Piang led his men to the banks of the stream below to Big Bend. After hasty calculations he set them to work digging toward the head waters, following a line of ratan which he stretched to guide them.

Faster, faster flew the scoops and broad knives; deeper, wider grew the ditch that was to form a new river-bed. Piang was everywhere. He flew about on his light frames as lightly as a faun, directing the construction of new tools, calculating and measuring for the ditch.

Once he heard a call from the man guarding the rafts. A troop of wild hogs, attracted by the comoties, was trying to reach the rafts. Piang lighted 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 rush through the ditch with such force that the rafts would be dashed to pieces? He held a branch in the current; it was torn from his grasp. With great foresight, he ordered all the floats to be taken up the river and securely moored. Back to the ditch he flew. Yes, yes, it was going to be successful! Before the attack was made by Kali Pandapatan, Piang would have the rafts through the cut-off, safely on their journey to the estuary. How surprised the dato would be when Piang advanced against the enemy from the other side of the Big 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 the slothful creatures off each other, but as soon as they freed themselves from the pests, more fell from above or crept up from the mud. Piang had foreseen this difficulty and had supplied himself with a small gourd filled with cocoanut oil, strongly saturated with cinchona (quinine). Offering some of his small store to the men, they gratefully rubbed the mixture into their flesh and bent to their task again. Piang exhorted them to work, warning them if the ditch was not completed before moonrise, all would be lost, and off he danced blending in with the night and its secrets like a picturesque _pampahilep_ (jungle imp).

Only Moros could have accomplished so difficult a task in the dark. With a will they st.u.r.dily plied the crude tools and before the blackness of the night had been lifted by the rising moon, the excited little party was crowding around Piang as he examined the few remaining 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. When I give the signal, push the d.y.k.e with all your might." He stationed another powerful Moro opposite Tooloowee.

"Bungao, do you hasten to the rafts and prepare to resist the first flood that will sweep through the ditch."

When all was ready Piang raised his hand and the struggle began. Little by little the soft mud was worked away, and the current, feeling the banks weaken, seemed to lose interest in its natural bed. At first the stream only caressed its new-found outlet, but gradually it concentrated its forces, and, with a mighty rush, attacked the slight remaining resistance and went thundering off into the ditch. A smothered 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 and headed for the mouth of the ditch. The water was rapidly widening the work of their hands, but in places the cut-off was barely wide enough to let the long slender floats by, and the water was rus.h.i.+ng through with terrific force. The moon trembled on the brink of the jungle. Would they reach the other side in time to aid Kali? Suppose he was driven back before Piang and his men could attack from the other side?

"_Ala! ala!_" ("Quickly! quickly!") Piang called softly. His raft came up with a sudden jerk, almost throwing him into the seething, muddy torrent. Other rafts b.u.mped into his, and soon a blockade was forming as the swift current bore them down upon him. Piang cut and slashed at the banks, tearing away protruding vines and acc.u.mulating driftwood. The moon, the moon, would it wait? Frantically he toiled while Tooloowee held off the other rafts with his long pole. When Piang's float was finally released, it bounded joyously along, nosing first one bank, then the other. The river! He could see it! Only a few rods more!

At the mouth of the ditch there was more trouble. Mud and debris had collected along the sides, but these were quickly worked through and they pa.s.sed into the main river. Little short of a miracle had been performed. The ditch was growing wider and deeper every moment and judging from the enormous flow of water, it would not be long before the river deserted its circuitous route in favor of this direct one.

"Quick! quick!" whispered Piang. "Bungao, bind the siwaka rafts together and head for Cotabato. We will overtake you before sunrise." A faint cry reached them. Kali had begun the attack. In an agony of suspense the brave Moros worked their way up toward the Big Bend. Suddenly Piang grasped Tooloowee's arm and pointed toward a streak that ran across the river.

"The boom! We must cut it!" They made a dash toward the obstacle that stood in Kali's path, but an arrow whizzed by their heads.

"Tooloowee, we have been discovered. I go to cut the way!" and before the astonished Tooloowee could prevent, Piang had dived into the water and disappeared.

"Piang, the crocodiles, the crocodiles!" wailed Tooloowee, but the charm boy could not hear as he slipped up the muddy river, swimming easily under water. Just as Kali was preparing to retreat, driven back by the fierce storm of arrows, he gave the signal that had been agreed upon. Three loud calls in imitation of the mina-bird went wailing through the night. What was Kali's surprise to hear the answer a few yards in front of him! And what was that dark shape bobbing up and down on the boom?

While he watched, amazed, the big clumsy logs divided, and swung slowly out, leaving the channel clear. Piang had severed the ratan thongs.

"Leeeee lelele ouiiiiii!" crashed through the night, and Kali recognized his tribal war-cry.

"Piang! Piang!" he cried. The dark shape, clinging to the drifting boom answered, and Kali rushed toward it. Before the enemy could gather their scattered wits, the whole party was sweeping by, on toward freedom. As Kali bore down on Piang, the boy raised himself to meet the raft. It was coming at a terrific rate, and he feared it would knock him off the boom; measuring the distance, he prepared to leap. On came the raft, Kali leaning far over the side, arms extended to grab the boy. When Kali was only a few yards off, Piang screamed:

"_Boia! boia!_" ("Crocodile! crocodile!") The men on the raft saw the water stir and hurled spear and arrow, but they glanced off the scaly hide. 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 raft paused, held in check by Kali's pole. Piang almost fainted. What was his chief doing? In a moment he realized that the quick action had saved his life. The raft swerved, b.u.mped against the crocodile, and came 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 gazed into each other's eyes; they swept triumphantly by, heedless of flying arrows. The radiant fire-tree blooms still cl.u.s.tered around Piang's head, and his sacred charm gleamed in the early light. Firmly believing that spirits had aided Piang in his remarkable feat, Sicto trembled with fear, and, with a last glance at the victorious charm boy, he turned and fled into the jungle.

Wonderingly, Kali Pandapatan and his followers viewed the new cut-off as they floated by. Amazed, they listened to the marvelous tale. Old Dato Kali Pandapatan laid his hands once again on his favorite's head:

"Little brother," he said, "this shall be known as Piang's Cut-off. Some day you will be the greatest dato in Mindanao."

FIFTH ADVENTURE

RIDING THE CATARACT

News that a strange craft had put into Cotabato reached Piang in his mountain home. Hurriedly he gathered his few weapons together and started down the trail. He pa.s.sed many traders and venders, who had also heard of the boat, and he hastened his steps in his desire to be there early.

"_Un-di?_" ("Whither?") called Sicto as Piang trotted past him.

"To the barrio," replied Piang. Sicto hurried to keep up with him, but Piang had no wish to be in company with the ne'er-do-well Moro boy, and he did not try to conceal his feelings. The natural dignity of the Oriental kept Sicto from displaying his anger at the repulse, but he sullenly slackened his pace and registered a black mark against this haughty Piang.

Piang loved to be alone; his playmates were too noisy, too talkative; he, too, loved to chatter and play games at times, but now in the jungle, as the morning light slowly broke through the damp foliage, he wished to be alone and watch nature unfold to the coming day. It seemed to him that the huge elephant ears lifted their dew-weighted leaves and shook themselves in the gentle wind. The monkeys peeped out at him and continued to make their toilet undisturbed. Other travelers startled the little creatures into watchfulness, but Piang came upon them so silently, so peacefully, that they scarcely noticed him.

There was one spot, half-way down the trail which he wanted to reach alone; there the jungle seemed to part, as if to grant a glimpse of the harbor below. He quickened his stride, and as he pa.s.sed a party of men one of them called to him, "You will be first to-day, little fleet one." So there was none before him. He was glad, and when he came within sight of the clearing, he rejoiced in his solitude. He wondered if the boat was a vinta from Borneo, or if it was loaded with copra for j.a.pan. There now, when that mist lifted, he would know.

As the beautiful harbor broke upon his sight, Piang paused, holding his breath, for out of the boat, the only one in view, smoke was pouring. It was on fire! But why were the people not trying to save the cargo? A huge black stick standing in the middle of the hull was belching smoke. While he was regretting that he would be too late to a.s.sist at the rescue, he was startled by a thin white stream spurting out of the mast-head. Gradually he connected it with the shrill whistle that pierced his ears.

Piang wanted to run back, to warn the others that some strange monster had sailed into their midst; but he saw that his brothers in the barrio were calmly watching the thing, and as it did not seem to hurt them, he took courage and dashed on down the trail into the jungle. All the rest of the journey he strained his ears to catch that shrill voice, which he was now sure came from the boat. As he flew through the silent forest he recalled the tales of the demons that the wise men talked about, and he decided to approach the thing with caution. Finally he stood on the sh.o.r.e, and there before his eyes was a boat that seemed to be alive. It was breathing. But where were its sails? How did it move? Cl.u.s.ters of natives, their fear stilled by curiosity, watched the approach. Breathlessly they waited. It was coming toward the tiny wharf, and just as it settled alongside, a piercing screech from it sent them tumbling over each other in a mad attempt to get away. From the safety of trees and huts they waited. Big men, pale and straight, walked from the boat and beckoned them to descend. Cautiously the more daring ones responded, and soon the whole population was gathered around the visitors.

Curious to see what the strangers were showing the dato, Piang slipped quietly up behind and caught sight of the most beautiful colored cloth he had ever seen. "Bandana," the pale man called it. Piang longed to possess it for his mother; how she would love to wear it for her gala head-dress! The sailor then produced a tiny object that glistened and sparkled in the sun; it was about as large as the palm of Piang's hand and very thin. The Moros were very much excited over it, and when Piang reached up on tip-toes to peer through the crowd, he cried aloud, for there, staring back at him was a boy he had seen somewhere. The little brown face and the piercing black eyes, the long hair twisted in a knot with the ends flying loose, were all strangely familiar. It was--Piang! "Mir-ro," he repeated after the white man when his scattered wits permitted, and the crowd had ceased its merriment at his expense. The Moros were more interested in the knives, tobacco, and strange food that the strangers had brought than in the red bandana handkerchief and the toy mirror; but Piang longed to carry the two things that had caught his eye back to his mother, and he was silently gazing at them when Sicto, attracted by Piang's admiration, picked the mirror up to look at it.

Before Piang realized it, Sicto was negotiating with the owner, offering in trade his bra.s.s buyo, or betel-box, used for containing a preparation of the betel pepper, extensively chewed in the East. Why had Piang not brought his bra.s.s? He would run and fetch it; but the man would not wait. Just as he saw the things about to pa.s.s into the hands of his rival, he remembered his ring. Attracting the attention of the trader, he quickly unscrewed the tiny center and proudly displayed a few glittering flakes; Piang did not know that they were gold dust; but the trader whistled a low note of surprise and called one of his s.h.i.+pmates aside. The Moro boy had seen the j.a.panese trade whole s.h.i.+ploads of copra for the s.h.i.+ny stuff, so, when he had found some in the sand one day, he had gathered it.

When the trader made it clear to Piang that he could have the treasures for more of the flakes, he was delighted, and without a moment's delay started off up the trail, not deigning to glance at the disappointed Sicto.