“Lē lē li li!” echoed through the somber night, giving courage to the faint of heart and keeping the searching party’s spirits up. Stealthily the charm boy crept around the edge of the clearing, examining every possible opening; cautiously he peered into nooks and crannies.
The mango-tree! What was there about that old jungle veteran that drew the boy toward it? The babe had disappeared from under its shelter; the fawn had been whisked from its protection. A cry from the circle around the fire arrested him as he approached the tree, but he reassured them, exposing the charm, and bravely went forward. Dew on the heavy, dark foliage glistened in the firelight, and the golden fruit peeped forth temptingly. Piang reached up on tiptoe to pluck a ripe mango, supporting his body against a large vine that hung from the tree. The vine stirred, trembled, and disappeared. With a low cry the boy recoiled. The tree was bewitched, was alive. Would its huge limbs enfold him in its embrace as it had done the other two victims? Piang was unable to move. Fascinated, he stared wide-eyed at the tree with its wealth of parasite life sapping its vitality. Trailing orchids and tree-ferns festooned its limbs; liana and bajuca vines smothered it in death-like embrace. Coil upon coil of these serpent-like jungle creepers, ignoring or circumventing the smudge platform halfway up the trunk, ascended to the tree’s very crest, only to return, dangling and swinging like the ragged draperies of a slattern, reaching out tenacious arms in search of new support.
At any moment Piang expected to be seized by this supernatural monster, and yet he could not cry out or move. Where did it hide its victims? Did it inhale life or suck it into its trunk? Scarcely realizing what he was doing, the boy focused his gaze upon two dazzling points of light that gradually came nearer, nearer. A peacefulness came over him, and he wondered why he had been so terrified a moment before. Slowly a numbness crept up his limbs; a giddiness attacked him. On came the hypnotic, icy lights, until they were within a few feet of his face.
“Lē lē li li!” crashed through the stillness. With the dim past Piang connected the disturbing sounds. The gleaming lights were beautiful, compelling.
“Lē lē li li!” A memory of some duty faintly stirred Piang’s subconsciousness, and his senses tried to respond to the call. Bright and intense grew the twin fires. One instant they seemed as minute as fireflies, the next as large as moons. Yes, the tree was alive; it was moving. A giant creeper was swaying toward him, would grasp him in its toils.
“Lē lē li li!” persistently the call was repeated. “Lē lē li li!” A duty! What was it? Charm boy? Who was charm boy? Involuntarily Piang’s hand sought the charm on his breast and grasped it. He was saved! With a shriek he darted back just in time. The vine lunged out, quivered, and recoiled.
Asin, who had been curiously watching Piang for some time, rushed toward him and caught the fainting boy in his arms.
Quietly Piang gave his orders; unquestioningly he was obeyed. After his mishap he had not regained consciousness for two days, and during his illness he had prated senselessly about trees that were alive and vines that had eyes, much to the disturbance of Kali Pandapatan and Asin. But when he whispered his suspicions to his chief, Kali gave a low whistle.
Asin and Tooloowee were taken into the secret, and they set to work to develop Piang’s plan. A wild boar, which had been captured for crocodile bait, was fastened to a pole in the middle of the campong (clearing). Around it was built a bamboo pen, opened at one end, from which extended a low, fenced-in lane about forty feet long. Arranged in this lane, at intervals, were slip nooses of ratan, which, rising above the structure, looked like skeleton arches.