d out from the lake, and it was almost impossible
to tell when one might step from the solid jungle into a dangerous
morass. A few hidden trails led to the barrio, and by great good luck
Piang discovered one. Quietly he crept along into the ever-increasing
twilight, for the trail led deep into the jungle's very heart where
daylight and sunshine never penetrate. Sounds came faintly from the
barrio; tom-toms and many drums beat a monotonous serenade. A fiesta
must be in progress. A fiesta? Piang's face grew hot, and his black
eyes flamed. Could it be that the fiesta was poor Papita's wedding? He
broke into a run and, panting and sweating, pushed farther into the
darkening jungle; but the trail was evidently an abandoned one, for
it brought up suddenly against a wall of thorns and closely woven
vines. Throwing himself on the ground, Piang wriggled through the
offensive marsh weeds, and finally found himself almost on the edge
of Lake Liguasan. From his retreat he could plainly see the village
streets. The barrio was certainly preparing for a fiesta and no
ordinary one, either, for elaborate and barbaric decorations shrouded
huts and street. Raised on two posts at the entrance of the village,
was a carcass of a mammoth crocodile, in its opened jaws a human
skull. Piang shuddered. He had heard that Dato Ynoch's followers were
gathered from among the renegade Dyak pirate head-hunters, who fled
to Mindanao from Borneo justice. The human skull confirmed the rumor,
for there are no cannibal tribes among the Moros.

It was certainly a marriage feast that the women were preparing. A
raised platform in the middle of the campong (common), tastefully
decorated with skulls small, skulls large, and skulls medium,
formed the altar, and a large black bullock was already tied to the
_sapoendoes_ (sacrifice post). Piang flushed with excitement at an
unusually loud beating of tom-toms; the chief was coming. Piang had
long wished to see this terrible Ynoch. Weird stories of his terrible
personality, his disfigured countenance were widespread. That so
powerful a dato could have sprung up so suddenly puzzled the Moros,
and Ynoch's identity still remained a mystery.

Down the center of the street advanced a gaudy procession headed
by a barbaric priestess. From her head protruded massive horns
decorated with flaming red flowers. Around her loins was strapped a
crimson sarong; her body swayed and twisted to the savage rhythm of
the tom-toms. A