The Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy Part 14
The sailors on the patrol-boat crowded around the speaker, glad of any excitement to break the monotony of their vigil. A thin stream of water had spurted up, disturbing the perfect calm of the surface, and a small black object could plainly be seen, hurrying through the water.
"Now what the deuce?" said the captain. Two bells were loudly sounded, and the boat bounded forward.
"Look out, don't run it down. Steer to one side."
The search-light, turned full upon the strange object, revealed to the puzzled sailors a slim bamboo tube, sticking upright, propelled by a strong force from below.
"Now, why don't that stick float, instead of sailing along like a periscope?" pondered the captain.
As suddenly as the phenomenon had appeared, it sank from sight and the chase ended abruptly.
"Look at our visitors," said a sailor, pointing over the side. Long streaks of phosph.o.r.escence darted back and forth in the shadow of the boat.
"That's a pretty bunch of shovel-nosed man-eaters, for you," remarked the mate. "Gosh, wouldn't you hate to give the hungry devils a chance at you, though?"
The baile was in full swing. The bichara was proving a great success. Governor Findy graciously accepted the savages' allegiance to the new government and their promises to make the trading system a success. The small park in the center of the garrison was teeming with life. On one side the American band gave the first notes of civilized music that the Moros had ever heard; opposite, rows of bra.s.s tom-toms responded mournfully. Gaudy lanterns festooned the tall trees and swung between, describing graceful curves. Flickering moonlight and fireflies added their bit. At one end of the park a platform had been erected for the officers and their families. The savages crowded around as the Americans swayed to the waltz, and their surprise was no less than that of the Americans, when the tom-toms stirred the Moros to the dance and they whirled and crouched in native fashion.
Governor Findy was surrounded by his personal guard; burly Irishmen shared this honor with stalwart Moros, thus proving the governor's trust in the wild people.
Dato Mandi, Dato Kali Pandapatan, and Governor Findy were conversing on the steps of the dancing platform.
"Kali says that Piang mysteriously disappeared about noon to-day,"
explained Mandi in excellent English.
"Who is this Piang, Mandi?" asked the governor.
"Piang is the idol of the Buldoon tribe. He is Kali Pandapatan's famous charm boy, friend of General Beech and Lieutenant Lewis,"
replied Mandi.
"Strange that one so well known should disappear. Yes, I have heard much of this boy's loyalty and sagacity." The two Moros turned quickly, warned by a startled look on the governor's face. Far down the smooth sh.e.l.l road a figure was staggering, wavering toward them.
"Trouble, trouble," muttered Findy.
The music ceased with a discordant jar, there was a slight stir among the spectators as Sicto and his companions attempted to retire, but to their surprise, Kali's faithful men closed about them significantly. On came the figure, lithe, slim, and brown.
"Piang!" cried Kali Pandapatan, and instantly his eyes sought out the cowering Sicto.
The heavy, labored breathing became audible as the exhausted boy stumbled through the crowd. A sentry started forward to seize him, but the governor waved him aside. Dripping and panting, Piang staggered toward his chief.
"Juramentado--gobernador!" faintly whispered Piang.
A wild shriek crashed through the intense stillness; a green sarong was torn off, and the white-clad figure of a juramentado rushed at the governor. But Kali Pandapatan was quicker, and just as the a.s.sa.s.sin raised his barong, a slender kriss glistened in the moonlight and descended. The juramentado lay bathed in his own blood.
Jumping up to the platform, Kali Pandapatan raised his hands.
"My brother chiefs," he cried, "did any of you know of this foul plot?"
"No, no!" came the quick response from every Moro, and although the Americans could not understand his words, they began to realize that Kali was exhorting his people to disclaim knowledge of the outrage.
"Viviz Gobernador!" came from the full, savage throats, and the cry was taken up by the mult.i.tude.
The dazed governor looked down at the prostrate figure at his feet, looked long, and sorrowed.
"But for the brave Piang I should have been lying there," he murmured.
Piang supported by Kali watched this new chief.
"Come here, Piang," said the governor. Fumbling with the collar of his white uniform, he loosened something.
"My lad, I thank you for your bravery," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "For your timely arrival, and your courage. Your name shall be sent to the great chief at Washington."
The words were repeated to the jungle boy, and his manly little chest swelled with pride.
"Piang, I am about to decorate you with the emblem of our government; these infantry cross-guns I shall pin on your breast." The dignified governor reached forward to make good his words, but he paused in embarra.s.sment, the n.o.ble speech dying on his lips. He gazed in dismay at the naked little savage, standing straight and expectantly before him.
"I shall _place_ this emblem." The officer began again. There was a t.i.tter among the spectators.
Piang, eagerly eyeing the treasure, wondered why the governor delayed. Suddenly a gleam of understanding broke over him, and he grinned, broadly. With the tip of his finger he touched the shining cross-guns, then his necklace of crocodile teeth. The situation was saved.
Amid thunderous applause the smiling governor fastened the guns to the indicated article of dress, and loud and clear rose the shout:
"Piang! Piang!"
TENTH ADVENTURE
PIANG'S TRIUMPH
Two years had pa.s.sed since the bichara. Prosperity and honor had come to Dato Kali Pandapatan and his people under the rule of General Beech and Governor Findy, and Piang had been raised to the post of official interpreter. Sicto, the disturber, had been seized in Zamboanga on the charge of complicity in the plot on Governor Findy's life; he had attempted to escape, and there were varying reports as to the results. Some said that he had been killed by a crocodile, others that he had escaped and swum to Basilan; but the tribe had not heard of him since the bichara, and they were relieved to be rid of his bullying presence. Especially the little slave girl, Papita, whom Sicto had annoyed since infancy, was glad that he was gone. Sicto's father had captured the little maid in a raid on the Bogobo country, and the boy seemed to think it his special privilege to abuse and torment her.
Along the steep mountain trail, dividing the jungle as a river might, crept a slow procession. A lumbering carabao swayed lazily forward, and on each side walked four stalwart Moros, ever heedful of the dignified figure astride the beast. Dato Kali Pandapatan rode in silence. Occasionally he gazed down into the deep valleys or off in the direction of Gana.s.si Peak, but the sorrowful, patient expression never left his face.
Where was Piang? For three days the boy had been missing, and Kali guessed only too easily what had taken him away in such haste. A few days before little Papita had mysteriously disappeared. It was whispered that the notorious Dato Ynoch (Ee-nock) had kidnapped her, and Kali was already preparing an expedition against the marauder. He felt the strain of civilization for the first time, for he had given his word never to a.s.semble his warriors without the permission of the white chiefs at Zamboanga. But Piang, the impatient, the valiant, could not brook the delay, and had in all probability started after his little friend alone. Kali's messengers should return to-day, and he had ridden far out to watch for their coming.
The procession reached the clearing that gave a full view of the sea. In the distance the eye could discern the curving coast of tiny Bongao; Kali was impervious to the summer beauty and youth of the sparkling ocean, to the charm of the dainty island so gaily chatting with the garrulous waves. He did not see the graceful, white rice-birds or the regal aigrets flitting about among the trees; he saw only the vast, restless ocean. There were no boats in sight.
Slowly the willing carabao was turned homeward, and the aged monarch sorrowfully gave up hope of sending succor to Piang that night. The recent storm had probably delayed his envoys, and he must wait the _Sabah's_ monthly visit, which would come the next day.
At the door of his hut Kali Pandapatan was helped from the royal beast's back and up the steep ladder entrance into the cool dusk of the interior where industrious women squatted at their several tasks.
"I miss the child's lively chatter," Aioi was saying sadly.
"She was a trying pupil, I can tell you," remarked the woman at the loom, "but a winning child." She leaned closer to Aioi and whispered: