Adventures of Piang the Moro Jungle Boy

  Up, up, he climbed. Heat, thirst, nothing slackened his pace. Arrivingat his home, he flew to the lake, and, without a word to any one,jumped into his banco and pushed out into the water. Sweat poureddown his face; mosquitos buzzed around his head: but he had no timeto build a smudge. He must hurry, or the strange boat would leavethe island and take forever the treasures Piang so coveted.

  Soon he struck the current, and when he felt the boat settle intoit he dropped over the side, holding on to the outriggers, and letthe boat pull him through the cool water. He noticed another bancoin the distance and wondered what brought another person out on thelake in the heat, but the mosquitos occupied all his attention, andhe dived and swam under the water to avoid them, soon forgetting theother boatman.

  Which stream had he paddled up before, when he had found the brightsand? He examined the shore carefully as he climbed into the boat. Itmust be there. Yes, he remembered the orchids in that tree. Cautiouslyhe guided the banco to the mouth of the creek, and he shuddered as hecaught sight of a shiny black object slipping into the water. It wasa harmless snake, but Piang did not like snakes and he hurried pastthe spot. Gradually he lost sight of the lake and the sun; overhangingvegetation and fallen trees engulfed him. At times he could not usehis paddle, and cautiously avoiding the thorns and poisoned things,he pulled the boat along from above. Soon this little stream wouldtake him into the big river where he had found the pretty sand.

  Piang was startled by a sound behind him. Surely he had heard apaddle. But all was silence when he paused to listen. When he cameto the river he shouted with delight, for his journey was half over,and there in the sun sparkled his treasure. Taking his gourd fromthe boat, he filled it with sand and then started the long processof washing it away. Always in the bottom would be left a few ofthe bright grains. These he poured on a leaf, but he discovered indismay that they stuck there, and when he tried to brush them off,they sank into the leaf.

  While he was pondering on his predicament he heard the chatter of ahablar-bird, and he chuckled to himself. He searched his banco forhis bow and arrows, but was astonished to find only the bow. What amisfortune! He must have lost the arrows on the trail. Nothing daunted,little Piang set about his task in another manner. Scattering a handfulof parched corn in a clearing, he laid the noose of his rope aroundit, and taking the end of it in his hand, silently withdrew into thethicket and waited.

  Soon the big bird discovered the handy meal and, loudly proclaimingits rights to possession, flapped its way to the earth and lightedright in Piang's noose. The hablar-bird fluttered and chattered as itsettled to the task of filling its craw with the good food. CautiouslyPiang watched his chance and, with a deft twitch of the rope, securedthe noose around the bird's foot. Such screaming and flapping! "Nowyou be good bird, and I no hurt you," Piang admonished. Catching holdof the creature behind the head, Piang held it firmly and quicklyplucked three large feathers from its brilliant plumage. He then setit free and laughed to see it searching for its lost glories.

  Piang would have enjoyed watching it, as it scolded him from a highlimb, but he could not delay and he set about his task quickly. Cuttingoff the end of each quill, he scraped it clean inside and washed thepithy part out. He had seen his father prepare a quill in this wayfor packing tobacco-powder.

  When these receptacles were ready to receive the gold-dust, hebegan washing the sand again; and when he had secured enough tofill all three quills he stuck a piece of green banana on the endsfor a stopper. Now he would have the treasures for his mother--thatbeautiful cloth and the funny, thin thing that played pranks on youwhen you looked into it.

  What was that sound? Surely some one was spying on him. In aflash he remembered the banco on the lake, the other sounds he hadheard. Also he remembered that Sicto wanted the same treasures thathe coveted. He had been followed by the bully, and now, without hisbow and arrows, he was helpless. To gain the lake again, he mustpass through that treacherous creek, and he knew that Sicto wouldthink nothing of robbing him and hastening to the village to buythe treasures with Piang's hard-earned bright sand. Somewhere thosewicked eyes were watching him from the foliage, but Piang bravelycovered his misgivings.

  There were two trails to the village; one lay to the west throughthe lake that he had crossed; the other was straight ahead, down theriver. But there were cataracts on this river, and Piang wondered ifhe could make his way on foot from the head of the first one to theright trail. He decided to take the risk and quickly headed his bancoin that direction. As he started down the river, he heard a howl ofrage, and glancing back, saw Sicto preparing to follow.

  So! It was to be a race! Piang had foiled the bully, and his littleheart beat faster as he realized the consequences if Sicto shouldcatch him. Piang had a good start, but the river was so treacherous,the eddies so powerful, that sometimes his boat seemed to stand stillor almost turn around when it was caught by the counter-current. Howhe loved his slim little craft! Whenever possible, it obeyed his wish,and he chuckled to see Sicto struggling with his heavy boat. If hecould only reach the first head-water and land on the opposite shore,he would not fear defeat. For who was more fleet-footed than Piang,who more able to ferret his way through the almost impenetrable jungle?

  Cautiously he watched the shore; he had been this way only once before,and wondered if he could remember where the trail began at the water'sedge. The current was so swift here that it was hardly necessary topaddle at all; so he rested to examine the shore.

  But what was the matter with Sicto? Why had he stopped paddling? In aflash it came over Piang that the cataract was near, and he started toback water with all his might. To his horror he found that he could notcontrol the boat; fight as he would, it paid no heed to his struggle,but dashed on toward the waterfall. At first Piang thought he wouldswim, but realized that he would be swept over just the same. Therewas only one thing to be done--he must ride the cataract. Sicto wasleft far behind, clinging to the bank, watching with a sneer the boygoing as he thought, to his death. He wondered why Piang was standingup in the banco; surely it would be best to lie flat in the boat andcling to the bottom.

  Gracefully Piang poised his body for the dive. The feathers were safelythrust into his long hair, and his bolo secured in his belt. With handsoutstretched above his head, he waited for the great moment. He knewthat if he was skilful he could clear the dangerous waters below thefalls and either swim to the shore or reach his banco. Faster, fasterwent the boat, and his little heart thumped so that he feared it wouldburst. He tried to remember that this was not such a dangerous feat;others had accomplished it, and he could, if he was careful. The dropwas only a few yards, but the danger lay in the shoals at the foot ofthe falls. What a beautiful sight Piang was, poised on the brink ofthat foaming cataract, the black jungle for a background! As he feltthe banco quiver and twist he prepared for the dive. Finally the boatreached the crest and, with a lurch, shot from under the boy as hesprang far out into space. It seemed an eternity to Piang before heplunged into the waters below; then he sank down, down. The roaringand thundering deafened him, and he wondered if he should ever stoptumbling over in the water. It tossed him, tore from his hands anysupport he was able to grasp, and finally, after almost deprivinghim of breath, left him floating on the surface of a calm pool. Howdelicious the rest seemed! How tired he was! As he lay there on hisback, he watched the water pour over the rocks above his head, andmarveled that he had accomplished it all so easily.

  Gradually Piang regained his composure, and his first thought was forthe quills. Yes, they were still safe, and he must hurry. Not fearingSicto's interference any more, he began to wonder how he shouldfind the trail. Searching the river for his banco, he discoveredit caught by some reeds near the shore. It was easy to swim on thatside of the river; so he slowly made his way to the overturned canoe,deftly righting it, and in a moment was over the side, searching forthe extra paddle he always kept tied in the bottom. Fortunately ithad not been torn away, and avoiding the rapids, he hugged the shoreand
finally resumed his journey down the river.

  What a wonderful experience Piang had had! How he would boast of hisbravery, Moro fashion, and maybe the wise men would praise him. Ashe paddled down the river he kept his eyes open for trails; and whenhe heard the next cataract thundering its menace in the distance, hedecided to land and search the jungle for a path. Beaching his banco,he hid it in the undergrowth, and, carefully avoiding the stingingvines, crept into the shadow of the jungle.

  The great silence was everywhere, and Piang wondered if he couldtrust his instinct to lead him aright. The heavy vines obstructed hispassage, and he was forced to cut and hew his way through the edge ofthe forest. Nature does her best to protect the jungle, for always, onthe edges, bamboo, and _bajuca_ (pronounced bah-hoo-kah) vie with eachother in forming an impenetrable wall; but after the first few yardsthe obstinacy of the vines seems to relax, their sentinel duty over.

  Luckily for Piang, the jungle was well supplied with paths here, andhe soon found the one leading down to the barrio. His heart was light,now, and he threw back his head and shouted with glee as he rememberedSicto, pale with terror, lest he too be swept over the cataract. Veryquickly his exultation subsided, however, when he realized that Sictocould easily be on this same trail, and he redoubled his efforts ashe imagined he heard twigs snapping behind him. What if the boat hadalready gone. What if its coveted treasures were lost forever?

  From his customary trot Piang broke into a run, and, panting andsweating, pushed forward. Soon the trail joined the one he hadtaken that morning, and in a moment he would come to the clearingwhere he had first seen the strange boat. Yes, there it was;ugly, cross-looking, without one of those bright-patched sails thatdecorated all the boats Piang had ever seen. But--was it moving? Witha cry, Piang started forward as the white smoke appeared, and theshriek echoed and reechoed through the jungle. Fury, resentment, anddetermination flashed across his face; with a howl he darted down thetrail. There was only a little way to go now, and he would run like thewind. Friends and strangers tried to speak to him as he approached themon the trail, but he brushed them aside impatiently and rushed onward.

  With his last bit of breath he stumbled through the barrio, but theboat was steadily moving out to sea. He threw himself on his face andbeat the wharf with his clenched fists. All was lost--the beautiful"ban-da-na" for his mother, the "mir-ro," too! An exclamation fromone of the men arrested his attention, and he sprang to his feet inan instant. The boat had stopped; and--could he believe his eyes?--theman with the treasures was getting into a small skiff and was beckoningto Piang!

  Quickly the boy responded. Making sure that the precious quills weresafe, he dived into the sea and struck out toward the approachingboat. When they pulled him over the side, a cheer went up fromthe Moros on the bank and was answered by another from the strangeboat. Eagerly Piang searched the boat for the two objects so dear tohis heart, but the trader silently tapped the ring and waited. Slylythe boy considered. Finally he drew forth one quill and offeredit to the man. He handed Piang the red calico handkerchief, saying"ban-da-na." Eagerly the boy grabbed it. Guardedly the two contemplatedeach other. The trader reached into his pocket and produced thetoy mirror, surrounded by colored pins; Piang offered to trade foranother quill, but the man shook his head. Piang resolutely shookhis, and the owner intimated that the trade was over by slippingthe mirror back into his pocket. Piang could not stand the suspense,despite his passion for making a good trade, so he thrust the otherquill into the stranger's hand, grasped the treasure, and, salutingthem in his dignified fashion, slipped over the side and was off.