riedly he gathered his few weapons together and
started down the trail. 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?_" ("Whither?") called Sicto as Piang trotted past him.

"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. The natural dignity
of the Oriental kept Sicto from displaying his anger at the repulse,
but he sullenly slackened his pace and registered a black mark against
this haughty Piang.

Piang loved to be alone; his playmates were too noisy, too talkative;
he, too, loved to chatter and play games at times, but now in the
jungle, as the morning light slowly broke through the damp foliage,
he wished to be alone and watch nature unfold to the coming day. It
seemed to him that the huge elephant ears lifted their dew-weighted
leaves and shook themselves in the gentle wind. The monkeys peeped out
at him and continued to make their toilet undisturbed. Other travelers
startled the little creatures into watchfulness, but Piang came upon
them so silently, so peacefully, that they scarcely noticed him.

There was one spot, half-way down the trail which he wanted to reach
alone; there the jungle seemed to part, as if to grant a glimpse of
the harbor below. He quickened his stride, and as he passed a party
of men one of them called to him, "You will be first to-day, little
fleet one." So there was none before him. He was glad, and when he
came within sight of the clearing, he rejoiced in his solitude. He
wondered if the boat was a vinta from Borneo, or if it was loaded
with copra for Japan. There now, when that mist lifted, he would know.

As the beautiful harbor broke upon his sight, Piang paused, holding
his breath, for out of the boat, the only one in view, smoke was
pouring. It was on fire! But why were the people not trying to save
the cargo? A huge black stick standing in the middle of the hull was
belching smoke. While he was regretting that he would be too late
to assist at the rescue, he was startled by a thin white stream
spurting out of the mast-head. Gradually he connected it with the
shrill whistle that pierced his ears.

Piang wanted to run back, to warn the others that some strange monster
had sailed into their midst; but he saw that his brothers in the barrio
were calmly watch