ek-bones and slightly tilted
eyes bore evidence of the Chinese blood that flowed in his veins,
and the tribe shuddered at the thought of Sicto as charm boy. He
advanced with a shambling gait.

"Sicto, it is given that you shall have your chance." Kali Pandapatan
spoke loudly, a frown on his brow. "Piang is of our own blood, and
we, one and all, wish him to be our charm boy, but there shall be no
injustice done. Born under the same star, within the same hour, it is
not for me to decide whether you or Piang is the Heaven-sent." Turning
to the pandita, Kali whispered something. The old man nodded and
advanced a few steps, saying:

"My people, I shall leave it to you, whether or not I have made a wise
decision. There is no way for us to prove the claim of either of these
boys, so I am sending them to seek the answer for themselves." Asin
paused, and the crowd moved. "On yonder mountain dwells the wise
hermit, Ganassi. He has lived there for many years, apart from man,
alone in the jungle with beast and reptile.

There are no trails to his haunt; no man has seen Ganassi for a
generation, but that he still lives we know, for he answers our signal
fires each year and replies to our questions." Turning to the two boys,
he addressed them directly: "The mountain where he dwells has been
named after him, Ganassi Peak, and friends through the hills will
direct you toward it. You shall both start at the same time, but by
different routes. One leads through the jungle, over the hills; the
other follows the river to its head-water, the lake. Old Ganassi will
guide the real charm boy to him; he is great; he is ubiquitous. Have
no fear of the jungle or its creatures, for he will be with you."

Amazement and joy were written on Piang's face. He was to penetrate
the jungle at last, alone! His heart thrilled at the thought of the
adventures waiting for him there, and with radiant face he turned
toward the inviting forest.

"Piang! Piang!" resounded through the stillness, as the excited Moros
watched him.

Sicto stood, head down, wriggling his toes in the sand. He did not
like the idea of the lonely jungle, or the thought of the long hard
days between him and Ganassi Peak, but he did not speak.

With solemn ceremony the pandita prepared to anoint the boys according
to the rites of the tribe. A slave boy ran lightly forward and sank
on his knees before the pandita. On his head he bore a basket covered
with cool, green leaves. Prayin