Suddenly Piang remembered the “Americano” soldiers. They lived somewhere off in the other direction, beyond the terrible marshlands. Without a moment’s hesitation, he headed toward the shore, pulled up the vinta, and secured it. He then plunged into the stream and swam to the opposite shore. When the lake people found the vinta, they would search that side of the jungle. Piang was pleased at his ruse.
Bravely the boy faced his only avenue of escape. The journey through the marshlands and over the mountains was considered impossible, but Piang was not discouraged. Searching the surrounding jungle, he made sure that he had not been discovered, and, turning his back on his home as well as on his enemies, headed toward the distant peaks, the Dos Hermanas.
“Halt!” The sentry on Post No. 4 wheeled and took aim. There was another rustle in the bushes. “Halt!” came the second warning. Luckily the man was an old soldier, whose nerves were well seasoned. There would be only one more warning; the bullet would come then. Tensely the sentry listened. In the jungle one does not wait long out of curiosity. Just as he was about to utter his ultimatum and emphasize it with lead, a slender form tottered through the bushes and fell to the ground.
“Sure, an’ he ’s a-playin’ dead. None of that game for yer Uncle Dudley.” The Irishman, coming to port arms, sang out:
“Corporal of the guard. Number Four!” Never taking his eyes off the still form, he waited.
“What’s up?” called the corporal, as he came running up the trail with his squad.
“Suspicious greaser!” The sentry pointed at the prostrate form. Cautiously they approached it. Too many times their humane sympathy had been rewarded by treachery. The native did not stir. One of the guard poked him with his foot. There was no resistance.
“Guess he’s all in, all right,” announced the corporal. “Heave him up. Never mind the leeches; they won’t hurt you.” The boy was lifted to the top of a woodpile. He bore the marks of the jungle. His hands and feet were scratched and torn by thorns, some of which still showed in the flesh. His ribs showed plainly through the tightly pulled skin, and leeches clung to him, sucking the blood from his tired body. The long hair had been jerked from its customary chignon, and was hanging loose around his head. His thin arms hung listlessly at his side.
“Gosh, he needs a wash bad enough. Must have been starving, too.” With his bayonet the corporal removed the black hair from the face. Uttering an exclamation, he bent over the boy.