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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.
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.
We will fight for our freedom later, if necessary." Haughtily Dato Kali Pandapatan faced the newcomers and bade them speak. The interpreter explained that the men were United States soldiers, and that their chief had commanded them to search the islands for starving Moros and to relieve their suffering.
The brilliantly striped breeches seemed likely to burst, so tightly were they drawn over shapely limbs. The branch had not withered. It had withstood the scorching rays of the sun. Kali Pandapatan was invincible. "Piang!" called Kali Pandapatan. The noises of the barrio were hushed. Their dato had spoken.
From all directions weird crafts made their way hesitatingly toward it. The sentries were distrustfully scrutinized, but not a soldier was armed. "See, Kali Pandapatan, I told you the new governor was good. He trusts us and permits us to enter his barrio as friends."
The white men bring good news; they bring food." Instantly there was a change. Kali Pandapatan stepped in front of the others and said in his musical patois: "I am Dato Kali Pandapatan. Speak. Do not deceive us." A lengthy conversation followed, and while the two men were arguing and gesticulating, the strangers gradually coaxed some of the children toward them.
"Bravely spoken, little brother," said Kali Pandapatan. Another boat load arrived from the sea, and when the nature of the calamity had been explained, all volunteered to aid in the search. Each man bearing a torch, they went in pairs, scattering through the jungle. At given intervals, Piang who remained in the barrio at the entreaty of the aged, was to respond to the clan call.
"Will it rain soon, Piang?" panted Tooloowee, as he toiled along behind the charm boy. "I cannot tell yet, but by sunset we shall know." Toward evening the grass thinned perceptibly, and the steaming, aching bodies felt the cool air rustling through the stalks. "We are near the jungle; soon we shall be cool," sighed Kali Pandapatan.
He and his father had kept it secret because they intended her for his wife, and at last he had captured the girl from Kali Pandapatan. Faster and faster flew Piang's fingers, and finally a basket began to shape itself out of the rushes. Soon Piang had two perfect baskets, and he slung them over his shoulder.
Proudly the tribe's charm boy sprang from the war-prau, and, to the astonishment of the soldiers, as well as the Moros, strutted up to the sergeant in charge and offered his hand, American fashion. "I'll be dinged, if it ain't Piang!" exclaimed Sergeant Greer. "Is this your old man, Piang?" he asked genially, pointing to Kali Pandapatan. The old chief stiffened at the apparent familiarity.
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