“O great Ganassi, will you not show yourself to me, Piang?” Breathlessly the boy listened. The branches swayed, parted, and the mina-bird floated through. The python, head erect, followed, and next came the graceful white form of his first friend. On its neck it supported a weird creature. Bent and wrinkled, was the little old man; a few strands of white hair flowed from his chin, and his eyebrows and lashes had almost disappeared. Toothless, almost hairless as he was, there was that about Ganassi that precluded horror, for his sparkling eyes were kind, and his mouth gently curved into a smile. Piang fell on his knees. The hermit surrounded by his pets, advanced and raised the boy.
“My little Piang! So you have come to Ganassi at last. He has known for many years that you would come. Long before you were born he knew, and his heart is glad to welcome you.”
“Is it true, O wise man, that I am the real charm boy, and that I shall lead Kali Pandapatan’s tribe to victory?”
“You have spoken, my son. It was over you, not the impostor, Sicto, that the mystic star hovered on the night of your birth.”
At the mention of his enemy’s name, Piang quickly scanned the surrounding jungle, but Ganassi’s soft chuckle reassured him.
“Have no fear, child. Sicto can never harm you, nor will he ever reach Ganassi. The python would smother him; the mina-bird would peck out his eyes; the gentle fawn would lead him astray.”
“How do you know all this, O Ganassi?”
“The question shall be answered, Piang, because you are charm boy, but should other lips utter it, they should never speak again. Enter.”
Ganassi held back the slender trunk-roots of the banian. Curiously, the boy looked about. All the wonder of the jungle seemed centered in this sacred spot. A forest of stems and aerial roots greeted his eyes; from overhead the graceful and rare Vanda lowii sent inquisitive blooms to caress his cheek; they mingled with his dark hair, scenting the air with their strange fragrance. From tree-ferns, nestling in the branches, tiny heads peeped out, and little feathered creatures chirruped a welcome. A civet-cat was lazily stroking its face with one paw. Something large and hairy stirred on a nest of dried grass, and sleepily a full-grown packda stretched himself and gazed at Piang. The python approached it, and a hairy paw was extended; his snakeship coiled up beside the ape, and the mina-bird flew to the ape’s shoulder.
Piang could scarcely believe his eyes. Here all was at peace, and natural enemies forgot to fight and kill.