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Piang could swim miles with arms folded, pushing through the water like a fish, rolling over on his back or sides, when tired. He had fooled the tribe by staying under water for three minutes, breathing easily through his hollow, bamboo tube. Kali had given him a prize. Piang's eyes widened, brightened. With the bamboo stick could he? He blew through it softly and laughed.
To gain the lake again, he must pass through that treacherous creek, and he knew that Sicto would think nothing of robbing him and hastening to the village to buy the treasures with Piang's hard-earned bright sand. Somewhere those wicked eyes were watching him from the foliage, but Piang bravely covered his misgivings.
Such screaming and flapping! "Now you be good bird, and I no hurt you," Piang admonished. Catching hold of the creature behind the head, Piang held it firmly and quickly plucked three large feathers from its brilliant plumage. He then set it free and laughed to see it searching for its lost glories.
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.
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 Ganassi, 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.
"I ask for gift for Sabah; it keep her good," grinned the boy, and when he delivered that message to his majesty, a smile nearly destroyed the immobility of his features. A slave handed Lewis a package done up in green leaves, and when he curiously loosened the wrappings, a handful of seed-pearls, beautiful in luster and coloring fell in his palm. "Thank him for the Sabah, Piang.
His arms were tired and stiff and his head was reeling, but he bravely worked at the paddle until he reached a bend of the river. It had been a narrow escape, and Piang had learned a lesson. Never again would he idly thump logs in a stream! The boat suddenly came to a standstill. It was turning as if on a pivot.
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!"
He passed 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?" "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.
Worming his way alongside, he frightened the swarming creatures, and they scattered, leaving him a clear view of the boat. Only one old tortoise refused to be disturbed, and Piang watched it pull and bite at something. He was very close to it, when suddenly something blinded him.
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