As suddenly as the phenomenon had appeared, it sank from sight and the chase ended abruptly.
“Look at our visitors,” said a sailor, pointing over the side. Long streaks of phosphorescence darted back and forth in the shadow of the boat.
“That’s a pretty bunch of shovel-nosed man-eaters, for you,” remarked the mate. “Gosh, wouldn’t you hate to give the hungry devils a chance at you, though?”
The baile was in full swing. The bichara was proving a great success. Governor Findy graciously accepted the savages’ allegiance to the new government and their promises to make the trading system a success. The small park in the center of the garrison was teeming with life. On one side the American band gave the first notes of civilized music that the Moros had ever heard; opposite, rows of brass tom-toms responded mournfully. Gaudy lanterns festooned the tall trees and swung between, describing graceful curves. Flickering moonlight and fireflies added their bit. At one end of the park a platform had been erected for the officers and their families. The savages crowded around as the Americans swayed to the waltz, and their surprise was no less than that of the Americans, when the tom-toms stirred the Moros to the dance and they whirled and crouched in native fashion.
Governor Findy was surrounded by his personal guard; burly Irishmen shared this honor with stalwart Moros, thus proving the governor’s trust in the wild people.
Dato Mandi, Dato Kali Pandapatan, and Governor Findy were conversing on the steps of the dancing platform.
“Kali says that Piang mysteriously disappeared about noon to-day,” explained Mandi in excellent English.
“Who is this Piang, Mandi?” asked the governor.
“Piang is the idol of the Buldoon tribe. He is Kali Pandapatan’s famous charm boy, friend of General Beech and Lieutenant Lewis,” replied Mandi.