The Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy Part 3

"'Answer correctly, or you pay for it with your life!' thundered Mahomet. Isa then replied that he had two strange animals in the room.

"'Wrong!' cried Mahomet. 'You shall now be killed. My two beloved grandchildren are behind those doors!' but when they were flung open, two filthy boars ran out; Isa had changed the children into pigs! And so, Piang, no true Mohammedan will eat the flesh of the wild boar. Beware, lest you ever let a Christian hear this story; it is not for us to acknowledge that Isa is greater than Mahomet."

Piang was shocked. No wonder his people abstained from the flesh of the boar.

"Can you tell me what makes the sea rise and fall, and why the tides rush in and flow out again?" asked Piang.

A smile broke over Gana.s.si's leathery features.

"In a far distant sea lives a giant crab; when he goes into his hole, the water is pushed out, and when he comes forth for food, the water rushes in." It was so simple that Piang laughed heartily. The mina-bird, startled, squawked an admonition and fluttered to Piang's lap.

"Where do we go when we die," asked the inquisitive boy.

Gana.s.si scouted the Christian's belief that heaven is in the clouds. Were they not in the clouds now?

"When a child is born, the soul enters the body through the opening left in the skull. This hole soon closes, confining the spirit within. When death comes to a household in Moroland, have you not seen the master of the house mount to the roof and remain there through the night? Well, that is to prevent the evil spirit, Bal-Bal, from entering. This dread creature sails through the air like a flying Lemur (monkey), tears the thatch from the roof with his terrible curved nails, scatters the defenders, and licks up the body with his forked tongue of fire. The soul of this deceased never reaches heaven. Your charm, Piang, will ward him off." The boy sat, mouth open, eyes staring. "A soul is guided to a cave that leads deep down in the earth, and there, between two gigantic trees, stands Taliakoo, a giant, who tends the eternal fires. Taliakoo inquires of the newcomer what he has to say for himself, and to the surprise of the soul, something within it answers. Conscience, the witness, replies, and according to the decree of this strange arbiter, the fate of the soul is decided. If nothing but ill can be said for it, it is pitched into the fire; if it has been good, it is allowed to pa.s.s on to the abode of the blessed. The soul that meets with neither fate, is punished according to its sins: if it has lied, its mouth pains; if it has been a thief, its hands itch and burn, and eventually, after the period of punishment is over, it precedes to heaven, cleansed of its sins."

The big ape, sleeping soundly, emitted a snore so human, that Piang laughed.

"Why does the packda look so like a man, Gana.s.si?"

"Because he once _was_ a man," was the startling reply. "He was lazy and, instead of working, climbed trees and hunted minas (monkey-nuts). A companion, becoming vexed, uttered a curse on him and threw a stick at him. These things clung to the lazy man: the stick became a tail, and the curse deprived him of speech. Ashamed of himself, he and his family took to the trees, never to return."

Many questions were put to the wise old hermit, and his ready answers astonished, but satisfied, Piang. Night came on, and the strange company lay down together under the shelter of the banian and slept.

Piang was very happy. He had reached Gana.s.si, was proclaimed the real charm boy, and was at last to receive the glorious charm. Some said it was a star tossed to Moroland by the Creator, that it was the emblem of power, and that he who wore it would be filled with a divine understanding. Others believed it to be the great diamond of Borneo, captured many years before from the pirates of that fierce land. Piang did not care which it proved to be, as long as it shone and sparkled with beauty. All agreed that its brilliance dazzled the eye, that its magnificence was unrivaled. Gana.s.si had waited a hundred years for the charm boy who was destined to wear it, and at last the star had proclaimed Piang to be the lucky boy. Through Piang's dreams flitted the visions of shimmering jewels of gold, and the happy smile on the boy's lips made old Gana.s.si's heart glad.

"Up, up with you, sleepyhead!" called Gana.s.si. "The sun will catch you napping if you do not hurry."

Piang sleepily rubbed his eyes and sat up. Horror and fright seized him as he beheld the body of the python curled up beside him and the packda contemplating him with indifference. From the doorway Gana.s.si smilingly watched him.

"Come, my subjects are a.s.sembling; they will all a.s.sist in the ceremony of the sacred charm." The charm! Piang remembered and jumped to his feet. Creatures from all over the mountain were answering Gana.s.si's weird call; the air was full of fluttering birds, and monkeys came swinging toward them. Gana.s.si gave to each a sweet or a fruit.

"Piang, no dato can boast of a grander court than Gana.s.si, eh?" chuckled the old man.

It was indeed marvelous. Gana.s.si seemed to reign among the jungle folk as royally as any king. He chastised, praised, petted, and scolded; and one and all the beasts loved their wizened little master. Solemnly Gana.s.si went about his task. From his bosom he took a small object, smoothed, and caressed it. Piang trembled with excitement. Gana.s.si called each animal, and they responded to the beloved voice.

"Piang, my creatures approve my action. This is the sacred charm. One and all the animals have blessed it, and through your life, if you have faith, nothing will harm you." Piang's eyes darted around the strange circle, and, indeed, the animals accepted him as naturally as they did Gana.s.si.

"The time has come, Piang. The heavens have watched over you from babyhood, and you have proved your worth and bravery many times. I am ready to reward you. Come!"

Trembling, the boy advanced. Kneeling before the hermit, Piang clasped his hands and prayed that he might be worthy of the great honor about to be bestowed upon him. Gently the wise man laid his hands on Piang's head; softly he muttered a few words; then something dropped around the boy's neck.

"You may rise, Piang. You are now invincible!"

Bounding to his feet, Piang clasped the charm.

"I cannot see it, Gana.s.si. May I unclasp it to behold its beauty and splendor?" Keenly the old man looked into the face of the boy, measuring him, studying him.

"And if it is not beautiful, shiny, and bright, boy, what then?"

"Oh, but it must be, Gana.s.si! It is the most valuable thing in the world!"

"You may unclasp it, Piang."

Clumsily the boy fumbled with the fastenings; eagerly his eyes sought the charm. His face went blank; tears sprang to his eyes. He was holding a tiny gourd, no larger than a monkey-nut, suspended from a necklace of polished crocodile teeth. His disappointed eyes met Gana.s.si's, still studying him.

"Are you not satisfied, Piang? Are you then unworthy of the great honor bestowed upon you? Do you think that to be of value a thing must sparkle and shine?" Piang gathered himself, hid his disappointment, and bravely answered:

"I am satisfied."

"Shake the gourd, Piang."

A hollow rattle came from the immature growth, and Piang's face brightened.

"Its worth may be inside. Who knows? Only Gana.s.si, the wonder man, and he will tell no one." The keen old eyes twinkled as they watched Piang's face.

The mystery! It was again established, and Piang was happy. Maybe the precious stones were inside and some day would be revealed to him! As if reading his thoughts, Gana.s.si said:

"The charm must remain intact to wield its spell; if the gourd should ever be broken or stolen, both you and the charm lose the mystic power lately bestowed upon it. Piang, the source of power is faith! Believe, be honest, be true, and the world holds naught but joy for you and Kala Pandapatan's people."

A silence fell upon them all. The solemn words had sobered Piang, and he gazed into the eyes of the wise man.

"Begone, boy. The sun rises, and you have many miles to go. To-night I will light the signal fires and tell your tribe that you have come and gone, that Piang is charm boy of Kali Pandapatan's people forever."

FOURTH ADVENTURE

THE FIRE TREE

The velvety dusk of the jungle was pierced here and there by the brilliant, crimson buds of the fire-tree. For weeks all Moroland had waited for their coming, the heralds of the combat season. During the harvest time there is a truce in these turbulent islands, but when the crops have been gathered, the natives become restless and long to sally forth to conquer. The myth that victory comes only to the tribe whose fire-tree has bloomed is implicitly believed, and impatiently the Moros await this announcement of the combat season. Paying no heed to their capital city, Manila, these merry little isles revel in intrigue, and there is no sport in Moroland that can compare with the combat. Tribes go forth to conquer and enslave others; the men look forward to it as an opportunity to prove their prowess; the women thrill at the possibility of capture. True, they may become the slaves of some unscrupulous dato, but there is always the romantic chance that they may fall into the hands of the hero of their dreams and become the favorite of his seraglio.

"Where is Piang?" Dato Kali Pandapatan addressed a copper-colored slave who salaamed and replied:

"In the jungle, O most high one, searching for the blooming fire branch."

"It is well." Kali Pandapatan, with folded arms, paused in the doorway of his hut, watching expectantly the only opening into the frowning jungle.

"He comes! He comes!" rippled through the barrio.

The eager inhabitants gathered to learn if the time was yet ripe. Into their midst ran a slim, bronze lad, waving above his head a branch, almost bare of green, but aflame with crimson blossoms. There was a hush. Women gathered their children to them; men grasped their weapons more firmly, and the young boys looked with longing eyes at the fortunate Piang.

"_Ooola!_" exclaimed Piang. Every lip repeated the word; every knee was bent, and the tribe lay prostrate at his feet; only old Kali Pandapatan remained standing, eyeing Piang with satisfaction. For a full two minutes the crowd remained motionless. The palm-trees whispered and crackled above them, and the river sent a soft accompaniment to the jungle music. To and fro above their heads Piang majestically waved the branch, until finally one bold voice demanded: