codile," he pointed toward it. When
the frightened Sicto shrank from the tortoise, Piang struck with all
his might, but he was so weak and his knife was so heavy that he only
stunned his adversary.

Then he was away like a flash. Before the bully could recover, Piang
had righted the vinta and was paddling off in the direction of the
river. Sicto tried to follow him, but Piang only laughed and paddled
faster. He was free again; he had a boat, and knew the secret of the
rice. Allah was indeed good to little Piang.

Rapidly he plied his paddle. The current was against him as he headed
for the mouth of the river, but he worked steadily and soon lost
sight of the infuriated Sicto.

He paused. Coming out of the river was a flotilla of boats. They were
the usual rice-fishers, and he must pass them to gain the outlet. What
if they called to him? He could not speak their dialect, and they
would surely recognize Sicto's boat. He did not think they had seen
him, so he changed his course to the east-ward and slowly paddled in
that direction. They soon passed behind him, paying no attention to
the solitary boatman, and he thankfully headed toward the river. As
soon as the men reached Sicto, he would tell them of the fight, and
they would give chase. Piang's chances of escape were indeed slim,
but he had a little start.

Stubbornly he fought the current; patiently he worked against the
swift water. At last he was in the river, but he knew that by this
time the Moros were in pursuit. That they did not appear in the river
behind him was no reason to feel safe. He was sure they would try to
head him off by land, as the river wound round and round through the
valleys. The odds were certainly against Piang. He was in a strange
country, unfamiliar with the trails and hunted by the swiftest tribe
of Moros. The Ganassi trail was out of the question. It would be
lined with the lake people watching for him. The jungle, which he
had worked his way through, would be searched, and his recent camping
site discovered. Every passable trail to his home would be watched.

Suddenly Piang remembered the "Americano" soldiers. They
lived somewhere off in the other direction, beyond the terrible
marshlands. Without a moment's hesitation, he headed toward the shore,
pulled up the vinta, and secured it. He then plunged into the stream
and swam to the opposite shore. When the lake people found the vinta,
they would search that side of the jungle. Piang