tamination
of this island? With mad shrieks, the lepers gave chase, eager to
lay hands on one so lately relegated to their colony. Was he not a
leper too? What right had he to scorn them, his brothers? Hotter,
fiercer grew the chase. The island was so small that it afforded
little refuge for the hunted boy. Sounds from all sides indicated
that the chase was almost over; it was only a matter of minutes now,
and never again could he leave the dread colony.

A rustle at his feet startled him, and some animal scurried off
into the bush. A dark hole from which it had evidently crawled
attracted Piang's attention, and without an instant's hesitation,
he flung himself on the ground and wormed his body into the welcoming
shelter. Pulling a fallen branch in front of the opening, he shrank
farther back into the cave. Cave? No, he had taken refuge in a fallen
tree trunk, hollowed out by the persistent ferreting of termites
(ants).

"He was here, here," screamed the old woman. The pursuers flocked to
the spot, and Piang listened as they beat the bush, clamoring for their
victim. They were so infuriated at the new arrival's unsociability
that they would probably kill him if they found him.

Piang crouched back in his cramped quarters. The tiny white ants
announced their disapproval of the intrusion by vicious stings, but
Piang did not move. A sudden jolt made his heart beat wildly. Some
one had jumped on the other end of the log, and the rotting wood had
caved in. He expected each moment to be his last. Over his head the
pattering of bare feet, running along the trunk, sounded like thunder.

When the lepers moved off into the jungle, Piang was not deceived. They
would lie in wait, and their revenge would be the more terrible for
the delay. Sweat poured down Piang's face; his body ached where the
ants had stung him. He tried to plan some means of escape, but none
came to his tired brain.

"There is no God but Allah," whispered the charm boy, and a peace
seemed to fall upon him.

Many weary hours went by before a squawk penetrated the death-like
stillness. Fruit-bats! It must be night. Very slowly he made his
way toward the opening. Unfortunately for Piang the full moon was
rising, making the soft, tropical night a wonder of beauty and
loveliness. Cautiously he thrust his head through the branches that
shielded his retreat. He was very near the ocean; the other end of the
fallen tree, in which he had found refuge, was lying in