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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Piang," murmured a soft voice at the charm boy's elbow, and he turned to find the little slave girl, Papita, timidly looking up at him. "Chiquita?" "Sicto goes with you. Beware of him, for he would kill you!" "I am not afraid," proudly answered Piang, "but why would Sicto kill me?" Solemnly the little girl touched Piang's breast where lay hidden the sacred charm.
Piang trembled with excitement. Ganassi 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 Ganassi.
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, Ganassi. 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.
Once they grazed the side of a floating log; it immediately turned upon them, emitting blood-curdling bellows through gaping jaws. Piang's spear silenced the menacing crocodile, and the party hurried on. Through the jungle the river wound its serpentine way; dense growths crowded the bank and leaned far out over the stream.
He had landed on the mainland and put his banco under a big tree, and now this tree was pitching and swaying, its branches sweeping the ground. The tree was being uprooted, and the earth at Piang's feet was plowed up as roots tore through the surface. The next tree was being felled in the same manner, and as his eyes darted about, he beheld everywhere the same terrifying picture.
There was another murmur, but very different from the one that had preceded Piang's coming. From the same hut came forth another boy. A little taller than Piang, was Sicto, lean and lank of limb. His skin was a dirty cream color, more like that of the Mongolian than the warm tinted Mohammedan. His costume was much like Piang's, but it was not carried with the royal dignity of the other boy's.
Piang uttered a low cry. "So, my little pet, you have frightened Piang, the charm boy! You must not do that." The snake, responding to the voice, stuck its head through the foliage and slipped from sight. The voice! The voice! It had called him the charm boy! Piang's fear abated, and he said tremblingly: "O great Ganassi, will you not show yourself to me, Piang?" Breathlessly the boy listened.
A cry so piteous broke from him, that even the dying babui started. The falls! He could hear them distinctly and realized that he was rushing toward them at a mad pace. Louder and clearer grew the thunder of those falls, and Piang's staunch little heart rebelled. He would not stand there like a Dyak prisoner! He would do something. He would save himself!
Gradually a smile broke over her face, and she laughed softly. "Yes; Sicto will be sorry if he overtakes us," she whispered. Through the deepening night, a roar came to the fugitives. A deep, cruel howl; tom-toms beat a ragged and violent alarm; savage war-cries rent the air, bounding back from one echo to another. Papita's hand wavered at her paddle. Piang's stroke grew swifter, surer.
Desperately the boy strove to overtake the boat, and just as he was giving up hope, a friendly snag tempted the runaway to pause, and Piang's strong, young hand closed over the outrigger. Then began the task of climbing back. A sudden movement might release the banco, and it would continue its mad flight, which he would be powerless to stop.
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