Part 12

"Badjanji!" they screamed. The little insects, infuriated at the treatment they had received, fairly pounced upon the defenseless Dyaks. No jungle pest is so dreaded as the enraged honey-bee. Its envenomed stings are poisonous, deadly, and often cause more painful wounds than bolos. The men fought desperately. Tauntingly Piang laughed, swiftly he and Papita paddled, and the smoke from the torch enveloped them in its protecting waves. Coming abreast of the war-prau, Piang loosed the other basket of bees.

On sped the vinta, and ever nearer came the great estuary that gave upon the Celebes Sea. The sounds of the sufferers grew fainter, and finally Papita and Piang were again alone in the great night.

"They will return and assemble the war fleet, Papita; they will pursue us into the ocean. If the water is rough, we cannot cross the bay to Parang-Parang in this vinta. We must hide near the coast and make our way homeward on foot."

Morning fairly burst upon them. Twilight in the tropics is a name only, for the sun rises and disappears abruptly, and it is day or night in a few moments. The early light showed the ocean in the distance, and at the same moment sounds behind made Piang listen anxiously.

"They are coming, Papita; we must hide."

As Piang headed for the bank, he noticed a thin stream of smoke trembling above Bongao. He paused and trained his eye on the blur. Suddenly he dug his paddle into the water.

"Papita, quick! The _Sabah_ is coming!"

Again the vinta shot forward, down through the shifting, treacherous delta, out into the ocean. Louder grew the beating of paddles against the Dyak war-praus, and Piang could hear the war chant. He knew that Sicto cared little for ships; he had evaded too many of them. Only the _Sabah_, Sicto feared, but he would probably take a chance on this being the Chino mail boat or a Spanish tramp. That the Dyaks would take the chance and follow, Piang was sure.

The sea was choppy and fretful. The little bride boat danced and careened about recklessly. Between the _Sabah_ and Piang lay Bongao, and straight for Bongao he headed, skilfully keeping the vinta steady. A white mist rose, as if to hide the vinta from the pursuers, but when the fleet reached the river's mouth a yell announced that they had been discovered. The race was for life, for more than life, and the boy seemed possessed of a supernatural strength. Nearer came the smoke, and finally around the point of Bongao, burst the little gunboat. At first the Dyaks did not heed the stranger, so used were they to hurling contempt at island visitors, but when in answer to Papita's signal, as she stood up waving her disheveled wedding veil, there came a shrill whistle, they paused in dismay.

In a very short time Papita and Piang were raised over the side of the _Sabah_, and General Beech and Governor Findy were questioning them.

"You say that Dato Ynoch is pursuing you?"

"Yes, yes, that is him in the first prau," excitedly replied Piang.

"Well, Piang, it is Ynoch that brings the _Sabah_ here to-day. We thank you, my boy, for tempting him into the open."

When the Moro boy disclosed Ynoch's identity, a grim smile settled over Governor Findy's face.

"Man the guns, Captain!" commanded General Beech in his dignified, quiet way.

The Dyaks were scattering in the wildest confusion, making their way back to the river with all speed, but the _Sabah_ relentlessly pursued. A sudden darkening shadow startled the captain of the _Sabah_, and he pointed toward the mountains.

"Something queer hatchin' over there, General."

A dense mist hid the hills; only old Ganassi Peak stood out, dignified and stern. Like a dirty piece of canvas, one cloud balanced itself on Ganassi's shoulder and rapidly spread itself around the peak. It seemed to sap the very life from Ganassi, as it enveloped it in a chilling embrace. Slowly the cloud loosed its hold and bounced along on the lower hills. In its center it seemed to bear a restless, struggling mass, and the passengers on the _Sabah_ watched it nervously. Strange things happen very suddenly in the sunny Celebes. Fascinated, they watched the odd cloud lumbering toward them, dipping and lifting its burden. It sailed over the mountains, flitted past the jungle and reached the ocean, where it hovered and waved as if undecided which way to go. At times, like canvas, it would belly down in the middle, almost burst, right itself, and come sailing on. Again and again the heavy contents pulled the cloud to earth, but valiantly struggling with its burden, it resisted. The cloud brought with it a death-like mist, damp and choking, and the sunshine was abruptly put out. The thing hesitated over the _Sabah_, dipping and sucking itself back, as if made of elastic; it wandered about aimlessly and paused over the fleeing Dyaks. Finally as if discouraged and strained beyond its endurance, it gave up.

With shrieks and cries the Dyaks watched it. Tons and tons of water burst from the cloud, striking the sea with a hiss that sent the spray high in the air.

"Waterspout!" yelled the captain and ordered the _Sabah's_ engines stopped. In horror they beheld the crazy column careen about, obeying its master, the capricious wind, and following any stray current; around and around the spiral, grinding mass of water veered and circled aimlessly. It danced and capered about the ocean like some malignant monster loosed from torment, and finally, as if by direct intent, started for the river's mouth. The Dyaks saw it coming, and in their puny efforts to escape, looked like ants before an elephant. The five streams, flowing through the delta of the Cotabato River, seemed to draw the vicious waterspout toward them, and on it went, directly in the wake of the doomed Dyaks. Tensely the _Sabah's_ passengers followed the course of the spout. The whirling Nemesis descended upon the pirates; their cries of anguish came faintly through the roar and hiss of water; crude Dyak prayers, shrieked by terrified worshipers, smote upon their ears, and finally, like a whirlwind, the waterspout pounced upon its victims. It caught at them with a thousand arms; it tossed them up, bore them down, tore them from the light eggshell praus, crushing them to bits.

Through the entire fleet stalked the monster, dealing out death and destruction to all, and, when there remained naught to vent its wrath upon, like an insatiate giant, it turned toward the jungle. Straight up the river it marched, rooting up trees, tearing down banks, and gradually vanished in the distance, leaving wreckage and disaster in its path.

Silenced by the terrible spectacle, the Americans seemed to huddle closer together for protection, or comfort. But two figures stood out alone on the _Sabah's_ deck.

Papita's eyes were fastened on Piang, on the charm that dangled from his necklace of crocodile teeth; Piang was lost in Ganassi Peak. His eyes were filled with a divine awe as he silently faced his beloved peak, where dwelt his wonder man, the Hermit Ganassi. Every element of his being, his very attitude, proclaimed that his spirit was pouring out a thanksgiving to his patron, whose prayers to Allah, the Merciful, had sent the waterspout to destroy his enemies. The Christians, boasting a greater God, were put to shame by this artless exhibition of a faith that they could never feel, and their eyes were filled with admiration as they looked upon this Moro boy, transfigured in his faith, as he muttered softly:

"There is no God but Allah!"

THE END

NOTES

[1] _Bichara_ means meeting and corresponds to the East Indian word, _durbar_.