ully, but they only
seemed to make the darkness more visible; they sputtered and flared,
but the flames resisted the rain, and to the weary Moros they seemed
like good spirits sent to guide them through the terrible jungle night.

Palm leaves, strewn in the path, had long clusters of needle-like
spines at their bases that pierced their feet, and the cry "_tinick!_"
("thorns!") rang out frequently through the night. Finally it became
necessary to march close up, in solid line, each man with his hand on
the shoulder of the man in front. When the leader warned "_Cajui!_"
("Log!"), each repeated it as he stumbled over the obstacle, and if
one fell, half the line would be bowled over.

"_Tubig Malakee!_" cried Piang. ("The big water!") Yes, the dull
murmur of the river was plainly heard through the dripping rain,
and they all quickened their pace in the desire to rid themselves of
the jungle. Piang attempted to guide them across, but he walked into
the water and sank from sight, and there was a cry of horror, for it
seemed that one of the many crocodiles had dragged him under. When
he came up sputtering and splashing, none the worse for his dip,
he chided them for their little faith and pointed significantly to
his charm. He had miscalculated in the blackness of the night and
could not locate the ford. A drizzling rain was still falling; great
hairy-legged spiders skated over the water, making things grewsome;
the large lily-pad leaves moved suspiciously, so Kali gave the orders
to camp for the rest of the night.

Silently the Moros prepared their camp. Deftly the ends of low-lying
branches were pinioned to the ground with forked sticks; over these
supports hemp and banana leaves were strewn to shield the sleepers
from the heavy dew and rain. After many attempts a fire was coaxed
into life, much to the dismay of the jungle folk. A beautiful golden
fly-catcher, probably mistaking the glare of the fire for dawn, awoke
and began to sing at the top of its tiny voice; a parrot screamed
lustily. A venerable old monkey, sleepily rubbing its eyes, shook
its fist, muttering profanely. Sicto, exasperated at the persistent
maledictions, raised his bow.

"Do not kill the monkey, Sicto," warned Piang. "It is not good to
kill in the jungle except for food or self-protection!"

A scowl was the only reply, but the big mestizo lowered his bow and
turned over on his bed of leaves.

"Kali, we are no longer safe," Piang whispered as he c