THE 
 LOVE OF 
 
 LOOT 
 AND WOMEN 
 
 BY 
 
 EDGAR 
 BEECHER 
 BRONSON 
 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 U
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT 
 AND WOMEN 
 
 By 
 EDGAR BEECHER BRONSON 
 
 Author of 
 
 "Reminiscences of a Ranchman" 
 
 "In Closed Territory" 
 
 "The Red Blooded" 
 
 "The Vanguard," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED 
 
 MCMXVII
 
 Copyright, 1917, by 
 
 Norman T. A. Munder K Co. 
 
 Baltimore
 
 PS 
 
 3fio 
 
 B783 . 
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 ^ f H/S volume, entitled "The Love of Loot and Women," is 
 / now y*rs printed almost a year after the death of its la- 
 M mented author, because it was desired to speedily complete 
 the series of bis published works. The labor spent upon preparing 
 the manuscript was in the nature of an experiment with Mr. 
 Bronson, to see if he could write fiction as well as he could write 
 some other kinds of literature. He believed it to be a great story. 
 He was justified in this; for, if every author did not believe the 
 work in hand his greatest, he could not muster up sufficient cour 
 age to finish it. It is a love story, set in the Philippines about the 
 time of the advent of the Americans. There is abundant goodpic- 
 turization in it, particularly about Tony Trigg, the fight-loving 
 head of the Constabulary, and more especially about Esa, the 
 bird-child. Joseph Morine, the Australian agent, who manages 
 things thereabouts, is drawn from the life of a friend whom he 
 picked up in Bolivia, managing a plantation and mines for 
 American owners. Morine is, or was, all that he is depicted, a 
 world-wide adventurer, not a swashbuckler, but rather of a use 
 ful and commercial type. He furnished Mr. Bronson with the 
 glowing pictures presented in this story, having had years of ex 
 perience in the Philippines and having rendered invaluable as 
 sistance to the Americans when they took possession. Another 
 good character, also new to fiction, is Go-Peng, a philosophic 
 and worldly-wise old Chinaman. Read Go-Peng s philosophy 
 and see how deep down into our civilization he digs, carefully ob 
 serving the while how he repeatedly hits off present-day situations 
 in the countries afflicted by war. 
 
 Along in 1907, the magazine editors, or their scouts, were oc 
 casionally startled by something from the pen of Edgar Beecher 
 Bronson. A trenchant, truthful and convincing pen be wielded. 
 Truth, with Mr. Bronson, was evidently stranger than fiction; 
 it was stronger, too. Generally, be wrote about the great West, 
 but always he knew just about what he was going to depict.
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 But who was he, and where did he bail from? And then when 
 "Reminiscences of a Ranchman" (Experiences ojhis early life) 
 came from the publishers it stood revealed that the author was a 
 former New Yorker, who had spent nigh onto thirty years of his 
 life in owning cattle ranches, and he knew everything about the 
 great West that was worth knowing. The book was justly acclaimed 
 as the best one of its kind ever written. 
 
 Along in 1908, President Roosevelt announced that, as he 
 was going to vacate the White House the next spring, he was 
 planning to go on a bunting expedition to British East Africa. 
 He did not know it then, but he had been anticipated in this by 
 Mr. Bronson, who was ready to leave Mombasa after leisurely 
 gathering a large collection of trophies, and writing the book 
 entitled "In Closed Territory," just as Mr. Roosevelt and his 
 party of hunters were sailing down the coast to make the same 
 landing. "In Closed Territory" was so called because Mr. Bron 
 son obtained the last permit to hunt in territory which was to be 
 closed to all white men for their safety. 
 
 Mr. Bronson s kill was said to be the largest and most com 
 plete ever taken out of the country. He secured the third largest 
 elephant on record, two of the largest water buffalos and one of 
 the largest rhinos. 
 
 Mr. Bronson was invited to British East Africa by William 
 Nortbrup McMillan, the owner of Juja, a farm of some thirty 
 miles outside of Nairobi, which is over three hundred miles in 
 land from Mombasa, and in the heart of a good lion country. 
 Yet Mr. Bronson had the misfortune never to see a lion, although 
 bis companions were such skilled hunters as George H. Outram 
 and Will Judd, one of whom afterward conducted Mr. Roose 
 velt and party through a portion of their journey. 
 
 "In Closed Territory" is easily Mr. Bronson at his best as a 
 writer, but the series of tales included in "The Red Blooded" 
 may possibly be the more interesting, and "The Vanguard" 
 rivals bis first book in holding the reader spell-bound. It is com 
 piled from dramatic incidents in the life of Clark B. Stocking, 
 the Deadwood Coach guard, and Mr. Bronson was able through 
 bis inimitable art and his knowledge and remarkable memory 
 
 [iv]
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 to put them into the thoroughly good shape in which they appear. 
 Like everything he touched, Mr. Bronson never sacrificed the 
 {ruth as to facts. 
 
 He made two South American trips. The first trip, in 1910, 
 included explorations of Colombia, Ecuador, and portions of 
 Peru, and the second was stretched to include Trans-Andean 
 country, a trip down to and across Lake Titicaca, and a visit 
 to La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. The second trip was made 
 chiefly by boat along rivers connecting with the Amazon, thus 
 accomplishing a great trans-continental journey. In a way, be 
 again anticipated Colonel Roosevelt, and although he made no 
 claim to having discovered The River of Doubt, he was able to 
 tell just what it was, and where situated, without any attempt to 
 deprive the Colonel of his discovery, such as was done by certain 
 British explorers. Although Mr. Bronson had numerous ad 
 ventures and many interesting experiences on this trip, which 
 occupied him for almost a year, in ign and 1912 he never 
 wrote a chronicle of the journey. He sent home to his friend, Dr. 
 William T. Hornaday, Director of New York Zoological Park, 
 the rarest thing be could find, Federico, a spectacled bear. It 
 was the first and only bear of its kind known to have visited 
 America, and is rapidly becoming an extreme rarity in its 
 native country. Unfortunately, it died in 1915. 
 
 Edgar Beech er Bronson was born in Bradford County, Penn 
 sylvania, September 20, 1856, and on his mother s side was 
 second cousin to the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, whom he grew 
 to resemble in later life. His schooling was much the same as 
 other boys of the time, and did not include a college. In fact, he 
 left Owego, where bis family was then living, and came to New 
 York seeking employment when not yet eighteen years of age. 
 He found a place as a reporter on the New York Tribune. 
 
 Two great adventures were indelibly stamped upon the young 
 reporter s mind; the one remained a pleasant memory always, 
 but the other was a dreadful nightmare that drove him out of his 
 pet employment and sent him to the Wild West to recuperate. 
 He drew by lot a coveted assignment to make a balloon journey 
 with Washington Donaldson, a famous aeronaut. The trip was 
 
 [v]
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 a very pretty one, being about the Hudson River, between New 
 York and Poughkeepsie, and so leisurely that it lasted twenty- 
 six hours. This remained a record trip for some forty years. He 
 continued to take an interest in aeronautics, and when the new 
 era of flying-machines dawned, there was no one kept closer 
 watch than he upon the accomplishments of Chanute, Langley, 
 the Wright brothers, Curtiss and other American pioneers. He 
 was equally well posted regarding foreign inventors and fliers. 
 Thus he came to be one of the founders of the Aero Club, and 
 by many regarded as its dean of aviators. 
 
 The second adventure was afloat on the ice in East River, in 
 the winter or early spring of 1875, during a period of intense 
 cold. After reporting a day s session of the Beech er-Tilton trial 
 in Brooklyn, he had to get his copy to the Tribune office. This 
 be could only do by crossing on the ice, which took him five hours. 
 The hardship endured caused an illness that prevented his return 
 to bis duties as a reporter. 
 
 His friends on the Tribune advised a Western trip to restore 
 bis health, and put him in touch with monied people who were 
 just then engaged in fostering huge cattle ranches in newly open 
 ed portions of the West. After six months as cowpuncher, under 
 a rough and ranting foreman, the young man felt himself quali 
 fied to take the management of a small bunch of cattle, and with 
 the financial backing of some of the people "back home," he 
 started in for himself. He had many partners as a ranch- 
 owner, owning as he did at one time some 22,000 steers, but per 
 haps the late Abram S. Hewitt was most deeply interested of 
 any, and for the longest time. 
 
 He began early making his mark upon the West. In the 
 Autumn of 1877, his was the first herd driven from Laramie 
 Plains to the north bank of the Platte River, and there wintered. 
 All the country north of the Platte was then hostile, except for 
 the then small camp of gold-seekers in the Black Hills, and the 
 stage stations along the Cheyenne and Sydney stage roads. His 
 was the first herd to settle in the Sioux country, so recently the 
 scene of the Custer massacre. But it was cattle thieves and not 
 Indians who first afflicted the new ranch. A herd was stolen, 
 
 [vi]
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 and driven north, as the novice shrewdly discovered in spite of 
 the efforts made to conceal their tracks. To catch them, Bronson 
 took the Deadwood Coach, and arrived just after bis bunch bad 
 been sold to a butcher. He compelled the butcher to a hasty 
 settlement and started back on the Coach. Two guards accom 
 panied the driver of the stage, Boone May and Clark B. Stock 
 ing, both famous, and the latter of whom was made the hero of 
 "The Vanguard." Sure enough, the Deadwood Coach was at 
 tacked by seven masked road-agents as it was nearing the stage- 
 station on Old Woman s fork of the Cheyenne River, but they 
 were beaten off, or killed by the guards, assisted by Bronson. 
 
 After some fifteen years of experience as a ranch owner in the 
 Northwest, ranging as far as Wyoming, the scene of his opera 
 tions shifted to the Southwest, and El Paso became his head 
 quarters where he engaged in banking. Incidentally, two of the 
 records established by him about this time were saddle journeys 
 from San Antonio to El Paso, 121 miles in 24 hours, and 
 through the Bolson de Mapini, 200 miles in 36 hours. 
 
 He had married at Cheyenne, in 1881, Grace Vernon Ross, 
 the daughter of a Captain in the United States Army, and they 
 had three children, Edgar Beecher Bronson, Jr., Clarence King 
 Bronson, and Grace, now Mrs. L. L. Tweedy, of London, Eng 
 land. Of his sons, the elder took to the law; the younger took 
 to the Navy, and shortly after graduating from Annapolis, con 
 cluded to follow so far as he could in the footsteps of his father, 
 and entered the Aviation Corps. Possibly he was influenced by 
 the appointment of his father at about this time as one of the 
 Aero Club experts to report upon the Burgess-Dunn aeroplane, 
 a new stabilizer, from which great things were expected, and 
 shortly to be tried out at Marblehead, Mass. Clarence E. King, 
 for whom he was named, was a truly great American, whom his 
 father came to know intimately through John Hay, in the old 
 Tribune office. Mr. King was then in charge of the Govern 
 ment s Geological Surveys along the Fortieth Parallel, and, of 
 course, knew everything and everybody in the great West. He 
 was, until his untimely death, the closest and dearest friend Mr. 
 Bronson had. Lieut. Clarence King Bronson lost his life in 
 
 [vii]
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 November, 1916, while making experimental flights, dropping 
 bombs at a target in the Potomac River. Mrs. E. B. Bronson, 
 the mother, died in March, 1912, while her husband was in the 
 heart of the South American wilderness. 
 
 Mr. Bronson was a member of the Manhattan, Lotos, Na 
 tional Arts and Aero Clubs and the Camp Fire Association of 
 America. He was also one of the organizers of the American 
 Bison Society, of which he was Secretary. 
 
 During the past eight or nine years, Mr. Bronson was in 
 great demand as an after-dinner speaker. The public seemed 
 never to tire of his stories, especially the narration of his British 
 East African adventures. He liked to tell them best as they came 
 to him, in an easy conversational tone, without any pretense to 
 finished oratory, although he possessed all the qualities of a good 
 orator, including a good presence. When asked, he would con 
 fide to you that, in Africa, just as Roosevelt was called Bwana 
 Tombo, literally translated, The Rotund Master, he was termed 
 Bwana Kmerije, translated, the Master Who Smiles. 
 
 Stricken with apoplexy at Delmonico s, the night of February 
 $rd, 1917, just as he had begun an address to the Alumni As 
 sociation of the German Hospital, whither be was removed 
 The Master Who Smiled passed away the next morning. He 
 was engaged to be married within a week to Mrs. Harry Torrey 
 Johnson, widow of the founder of the Manhattan Electrical 
 Company. The funeral took place from the Church of the 
 Transfiguration, t( The Little Church Around the Corner." 
 
 WILLIAM A. TAYLOR. 
 
 [ viii ]
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 Esa s Home in the Jungle 
 
 Ruth s Home Under the Elms . V 
 
 The Pagan s Paradise 
 
 Esa Learns Witchery and Witchcraft . 
 
 Potentialities of a Human Cipher . 
 
 Her Lips a Scylla and Charybdis 
 
 The Value of Advertising . .,> 
 
 A Jungle Wooing . . ; . * " 
 
 Joys and Terrors of the Jungle , . 
 
 Dreaming in the Tree Tops 
 
 A Human Bait . . 
 
 Battling With the Wild Boar . 
 
 "Work, Mother ; I ll Work" . 
 
 TheDatus . .. ,. ;- 
 
 Out of Big Horizons Arise Big Men . 
 
 The Moro Raiders ... ,- 
 
 Esa s Fight For Liberty 
 
 Alone With the Dead and the Vultures . 
 
 Vain Appeals to Busau . Y. * 
 
 Blinking Slavery and Polygamy ., 
 
 Balbal Masquerading as a Temptress 
 
 On the Slave Block ., . * 
 
 Sold . .. .,, 
 
 Tony Trigg 
 
 Slave to Mother of Chickens 
 
 The Coming of the Mergans .. 
 
 Chino Philosophy . , : 
 
 Better Off a Moro Than a Mergan Slave 
 
 The Girl of His Dreams
 
 Wa-Tu s Wooing . . . . 121 
 
 Betting Human Flesh . . .125 
 
 A Hunger for Tenderness . . 133 
 
 Wa-Tu s Blunder . . . .139 
 
 Wa-Tu s Honeymoon . . . 145 
 
 Naked Bolos in Their Hands . .151 
 
 Datu Linta s Nuptials . . . 157 
 
 Wailing That Told of Calamity . .163 
 Slain Like Goliath by a Puny Hand . 167 
 
 Saved by Esa s Ivory Teeth . .171 
 
 A Miracle of a Pillow . . . 177 
 
 The Son of Fire . -. . . 181 
 
 The Meeting of Esa and Ruth . . 185 
 
 Esa Wants the Son of Fire . . .191 
 Strange Women, These Mergans . 199 
 
 A Pacific Conquest . . . . 207 
 
 Wild Tossing Waves of Love . . 215 
 
 Extravagant Altruism . . . 22 1 
 
 Love Dies Hard . v . . 227 
 
 Esa s Biggest Magic . . . " .. 233 
 
 Tony and His Terriers . . . 239 
 
 How Reconcile Conflicting Wills -. .245 
 
 Stalking Maratuns . . -.;-. , 249 
 
 Ruth s Journey Home . : * . , 253 
 
 Esa s Return to Mt. Apo . . 259 
 
 His Guardian Angel . . . . 267 
 
 The Martyr to Thankless Work . 273 
 
 Brooding Over Grim Pictures . . 277 
 
 Adrift in the Mists . . . 281 
 
 The Revelations of a Fever . . . 283 
 Lancona s Magic .... 287
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT 
 AND WOMEN
 
 CHAPTER I 
 ESA S HOME IN THE JUNGLE 
 
 Notwithstanding her great black eyes were always aglitter 
 with ominous lights fed by the fires of fierce passions that slum 
 bered through her infancy and earlier youth, Esa was a bird- 
 child at least to the extent that she was hatched in a tree 
 top, high aloft of the tangle of vines and bush that hid the 
 steaming black soil that fed them. 
 
 There, in airy, softly whispering leafy recesses, her breed of 
 jungle folk made their nests. 
 
 There, high aloft, those ominously glittering eyes first opened, 
 on a world so dim, shadowy, mysterious, so awesome in its 
 vagueness, that it must surely harbor swarms of elfin and imp 
 ish shapes just without one s short vision range. 
 
 There, among the tree tops, Esa s nest was by turns gently 
 swayed by the cool breezes that swept down from the mist-hid 
 crest of Mt. Apo and violently rocked by the earthquakes that 
 from time to time shook the Island of Mindanao from center 
 to circumference. 
 
 There, shut within the brooding gloom of tropical forest, 
 shuddering at the raucous croaking of parrots, the shrilling 
 voices of the smaller monkey folk and the hoarse, terrifying 
 roar of the howlers, instinctively her earliest croonings sympa 
 thetically imitated the low, harmonious notes of the sweetest 
 pipers among the tinier bright-feathered folk that were ever 
 darting hither and yon around her or nested or perched her 
 nearest neighbors. 
 
 There and so Esa s voice became attuned to the low and 
 infinitely melodious pitch that, throughout her life, at once 
 constituted perhaps her most irresistible charm and always 
 remained a weird foil to the savage impulses the fascinating 
 little barbarian never long managed to conceal. 
 
 There, her youthful imagination was colored by the sweet 
 stories the whispering leaves were ever confiding to her.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 There, her soul was further imbued with adoration of gen 
 tlest melody by the harmonies, soft as a lovelorn maiden s 
 sighs, that Usup s deft fingers enticed from the fragile strings 
 of the kuteehapee. 
 
 There and so Esa s wild Pagan blood absorbed the human 
 izing leaven that served to make her the most contradictory 
 combination of a gentle, tender simplicity that seemed to 
 border on clinging timidity, and of a savage indifference to 
 every form of self-control that made her dangerous as the 
 fierce tigres. 
 
 Primitive as our common mother, Eve, Esa, now ten years 
 old and nearing marriageable age, was risen above her in no 
 particular save in her heritage of tribal traditions and super 
 stitions with which the countless intervening centuries have 
 endowed all wild races the wide world round. 
 
 But of these traditions she knew more than any Monobo 
 Pagan of them all save only one, her own father, Usup. 
 
 For Usup performed functions and wielded authority that 
 placed him second only to Punungan, chief of the Pugsan 
 clan of the Monobos. 
 
 As Lukus, or player of the kuteehapee and tribal bard, he was 
 custodian and sole purveyor of the tribal tradition and history. 
 
 As Ingorandy, or priest, and sole communicant with the tribe s 
 supreme god, Dewata, and all the long line of minor deities, 
 benign and malignant, of his hierarchy, Usup alone was their 
 law-giver, he alone availed to mitigate individual suffering and 
 avert tribal calamity, he alone stood between the Monobos 
 and their dread of the deistic wrath that the cupidity of many 
 generations of cunning Ingorandys had employed to their 
 profit. 
 
 Indeed, the authority of Usup was supreme over that of Chief 
 Punungan in all save when the warriors of the tribe picked up 
 their blow guns, spears and bows and arrows and stole away 
 through the dusky forest to do battle with their enemies, 
 although, by tribal custom, as their War Chief, Punungan 
 was their nominal head. 
 
 More, Usup was a sabio, a wise man, and a proper one, exper-
 
 ESA S HOME IN THE JUNGLE 
 
 fenced of the world and wise far beyond any man of his race. 
 
 Many of his long roll of years had been passed in captivity, 
 first as slave to the Moros and later as servant to Paddies, 
 the Spanish priests. 
 
 And it was precisely the knowledge so obtained that in no 
 small measure gave him his power among his people, for it 
 was not from timidity but out of wisdom that ne restrained 
 his clansmen from the raids of their civilized neighbors by 
 which other over-confident Monobo clans were ever beating 
 their wild heads against stone walls and inviting pursuits that 
 always ended in heavy punishment. 
 
 [31
 
 CHAPTER II 
 RUTH S HOME UNDER THE ELMS 
 
 A dour father was James Snell. 
 
 His pride of his mills and his boasts of his faith and rectitude 
 were as great as should have been his shame of a set of cruelly 
 hard and fast rules that, as applied to his mills, taxed muscles 
 and starved stomachs to the limit of endurance, and, as applied 
 to his family, cut heart strings and sobered faces into somber, 
 impassive masks. 
 
 Rest! Play! He never did. Why should others? 
 
 Study and work, work and study, that had been his rule. 
 
 Without work, tireless, never ceasing work, would he have 
 managed to line a whole mile of the Merrimac s shore with 
 smoking chimneys and throbbing boilers? 
 
 Without study, constant, patient study, could it have hap 
 pened that now great batteries of turbines, turned by the 
 Merrimac s harnessed flood, had forever stilled the boilers 
 and made annual savings in fuel bills that represented a good 
 interest on a tolerable fortune? 
 
 Study? One must study and learn to better one s self. 
 
 Ah ! had he been privileged to profit by a broad education in 
 youth, instead of being forced to begin work at his father s 
 forge while yet a lad, now there would be two miles of his mills 
 instead of one. 
 
 Others! Ah! Each must do for himself. 
 
 Charity ! Oh, charity is the crime of the age, as the greatest 
 encourager of idleness, and all idleness is waste and waste is 
 a sin. 
 
 For what were we given our talents, pray? 
 
 Certainly not that they should be squandered. 
 
 The hundreds that wearily toiled in his mills and spent them 
 selves for a pittance livelihood that his fortune might be daily 
 swelled !
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Why, did not he give them every comfort they knew and 
 Opportunity? 
 
 So, once, wearily toiled he. 
 
 Was it his fault if they spent their off hours in stupid diver 
 sions, instead of working and studying to better themselves, 
 as had he? 
 
 Inexorable as the daily turning of the mills turbines was the 
 family routine. 
 
 Occupation, serious occupation of some sort, filled all the 
 waking hours. 
 
 Immutably as the mills snapping belts and whirring wheels 
 must the family be profitably employed. 
 
 Indeed, the only relaxation that Ruth Snell and her mother 
 were permitted, she from her childhood studies, her mother 
 from household labors that included all but its ruder drudg 
 eries, were the various services of their church none of which, 
 except its festivals, the devout father allowed himself or them 
 to miss. 
 
 No leaven of levity lightened Ruth s childhood. The stern 
 home regime prevented that free, untrammeled expression of 
 feeling that alone constitutes an atmosphere in which the 
 budding loves of infancy may bloom and mature. 
 
 What wonder, then, that a wretched starveling scarcely recog 
 nizable as a poor counterfeit of Love flickered feebly in Ruth s 
 heart? 
 
 It is through the period of tender impressionability of infancy 
 and childhood that character and life habit are most highly 
 colored if not inalterably formed. 
 
 And hence it had been practically inevitable that Ruth, her 
 heart chords atrophied past capacity to respond with normal 
 warmth even to a cordially offered friendship, her mind ad 
 vanced far beyond those of most girls of her years and severe 
 ly trained to preoccupation with nothing but her studies, should 
 finish, in turn, her boarding school and her college as desti 
 tute of any form of whole-hearted love or even warm friend 
 ship as when she first left her father s roof. 
 
 Returned to the grim treadmill of home life, she found her 
 
 [6]
 
 RUTH S HOME UNDER THE ELMS 
 
 mother still strong and active, still plodding, wearily, doubt 
 less, but unflinchhig, at her tasks. 
 
 Her suitors, of course, were numberless, greedy more of the 
 mile of mills of which she was sole heir than captive to her 
 beauty. 
 
 And yet Ruth had beauty of a sort, most notable beauty. 
 
 But the beauty was all in her face. 
 
 Her figure was so hopelessly lacking in interesting incident 
 that none but a wholly mad Cubist could take any pleasure 
 contemplating it. 
 
 While almost as tall as a grenadier, Ruth was slender to 
 leanness and drearily flat. 
 
 Contracted to half her stature, there was not enough of her 
 to make any of the nameless fascinating curves that are the 
 pride of women and the delight of the rest of humanity. 
 
 All of charm she owned was centered in her face. 
 
 In head and face Ruth was Feminine Intelligence incarnate. 
 
 Her forehead was majestic in height and breadth. 
 
 The great wide-set, violet eyes bespoke more of contempla 
 tion than of dreaming. 
 
 An otherwise oval facial angle was strengthened by a softened 
 replica of her father s pitilessly square jaws. 
 
 The lips, while exquisitely curved, were thinner than would 
 long detain a sybarite. 
 
 And to all these charms, her habit of preoccupied introspec 
 tion lent her a fascinating air of mystery. 
 
 None could pass her by. 
 
 And yet Ruth was a type to promise an intellectual feast, 
 no more. 
 
 But of all her suitors, only one ranked high enough in fortune 
 to have her father s approval for all his wares must bring 
 the highest price he dared hold out for, even when it came 
 to the disposal of his daughter s hand. 
 
 However, it was little she was really bothered with suitors, 
 sheltered as she was by the family habit of self-sufficiency, 
 rarely giving or taking of entertainment, receiving seldom, 
 encouraging no intimacies. And as for young Kent, the eli- 
 
 [7)
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 gible, he was not the sort to interest Ruth, a light-weight in 
 all but his money, who had been dropped from Harvard his 
 sophomore year, not for any spirited rioting, which, perhaps, 
 even Ruth might have forgiven, but for his stupidity, for de 
 ficiencies in his studies. 
 
 [8]
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE PAGAN S PARADISE 
 
 Nor was it in her father alone that Esa was fortunate. 
 
 Her mother, Lancona, was the Medicine Woman of the clan. 
 
 As daughter of a long line of Medicine Women, Lancona was 
 deeply learned in the curative value of all the herbs and the 
 trees of the forest. 
 
 And while she would never have dared to claim it any more 
 than any of the clan could be found to admit it, it was the 
 ministrations of Lancona that relieved more pain, assuaged 
 more suffering than did all Usup s earnest invocations of De- 
 watas mercy, notwithstanding Usup was always far the bet 
 ter paid of the two for his services. 
 
 Magnificent was Lancona in her insignia of medical rank, 
 from the Monobo point of view, her arms wellnigh covered 
 from shoulder to wrist with brass bangles, great ivory studs 
 in her ears, heavy brass anklets extending from her bare feet 
 quite up to the knee, where they were met by a brown hemp 
 en skirt gaily interwoven with brilliant feathers, a brightly 
 beaded chaplet encircling her brow. 
 
 And, naturally, it was from Esa alone, her favorite daughter, 
 that Lancona withheld no secrets. 
 
 Esa was her sole companion on her stealthy avoidance of 
 prying clan eyes while questing in the forest for supplies of 
 its curative treasures or for any of the many malignant 
 growths she knew certain to cause either sickness or death, 
 at her pleasure, far more certainly efficient to so serve her 
 than were any of the benign roots and plants sure of effecting 
 cures. 
 
 Indeed, it was no less than deliberately courting the death 
 that soon extinguished them for any to seriously cross the in 
 terest or the will of Usup or Lancona. 
 
 Any who did soon dropped, snuffed out as suddenly as by 
 a lightning stroke, of some mysterious agency none of the 
 
 [9]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 awed tribe folk could explain, or faded, wasted and suffered 
 for weeks before expiring according to Lancona s judgment 
 of their deserts. 
 
 His sons all killed in battle or captive among the Moros, 
 and Esa his youngest child and hence his pet, it was she whom 
 Usup elected to instruct; first, in all the mysteries of Dewata 
 and his attendant deities and of the incantations most effec 
 tive in service as their high priest; second, in the traditions 
 and history of the tribe; third, perhaps, in more or less of the 
 wisdom he had absorbed during his years in captivity among 
 the Moros and Christians. 
 
 For among the Monobos sex was no more a bar to the wield 
 ing of the high authority of Lukus or Ingorandy than to war 
 chieftianship itself so a maid or woman owned the knowl 
 edge, craft, and spirit to seize it. 
 
 Whence it would not be unreasonable to assume, perhaps, 
 that the Monobo women were the original suffragettes! 
 
 Sedulously avoiding warfare as Usup did, dwelling beside the 
 head waters of the Malbul River, a tributary of the Rio Grande, 
 on a low shoulder of Mt. Apo, whose smoking crater towered 
 twelve thousand feet above them, the life of the clansmen of 
 his village of Pugsan was the very simplest of the simple. 
 
 There they dwelt in happiness and plenty, so long as left to 
 themselves, exempt from attacks that might drive them to 
 flight and abandonment of their little fields of growing food 
 stuffs. 
 
 There they were unshadowed by the political, industrial, 
 religious, financial and social strifes of what we love to boast 
 as civilization and the bitter jealousies and hatreds they en 
 gender. 
 
 There they were free of all those morally withering and 
 blighting influences of the civilization that, the higher one 
 mounts it, the more bitter his experience of the torments of 
 a living hell. 
 
 With fish abounding in the river and game swarming in the 
 forest, fishing and the chase of wild boar and deer cost the 
 men as little in time and labor as did the scratching of the 
 
 [10]
 
 THE PAGAN S PARADISE 
 
 rich black soil and the raising of the village needs of rice, corn, 
 pepper, sweet potatoes, tobacco and bananas cost the women. 
 
 And far less still was the toll in labor Monobos paid for the 
 rude architecture that sheltered them, for it was simple as the 
 first product of the first primitive savage hands that ever 
 builded. 
 
 In times of peace and in regions of believed security, rare 
 enough, unfortunately, in these days, the ordinary living huts, 
 floored and framed of split bamboo and roofed and walled 
 with palm leaves, were perched on poles ten feet above the 
 ground. 
 
 Accessible were their huts only by leaning notched poles, up 
 and down which men, women and children, chickens and dogs, 
 raced as readily as on a proper staircase. 
 
 And with these pole ladders lifted aloft of nights, and their 
 floors heavily enforced of a double layer of bamboo as safe 
 guard against the prodding spears of marauding neighbors, 
 there on their perches the Monobos slept in security against 
 night surprise. 
 
 But in these days few and very remote from the coast were 
 the places where the clansmen could live in safety. 
 
 Thus it happened that the Pugsan folk nested their palm leaf 
 shelters high aloft in the branches of the taller trees, thirty or 
 more feet from the ground, reachable only by swarming up the 
 many rope-like vines pendant from the branches, or by scram 
 bling along the snaky curves of the matapalos, the tree-killers 
 or parasitic vines that tightly clasp the mother trunk in their 
 death grip. 
 
 And central among their nests in the tree tops, among the 
 branches of the largest trees were built their strongholds, 
 heavier of floor, walled thick about with bamboo, and hold 
 ing from one to two tons of stones, the primitive projectiles 
 that in pre-powder days were hurled from the barbicans of 
 castle walls upon investing enemies. 
 
 And there in their leafy nests their you ng were born, the young 
 they loved and never tired of tending as few but savage and 
 bourgeois folk do the wide world over. 
 
 in]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 There they led a life of idyllic peace save when disturbed by 
 roaring Moro war gongs and clashing krises, and of idyllic 
 decency as well, in some respects. 
 
 For Monobos were content with the one wife of their first 
 choice, all except the Chiefs, who, like most high place-hold 
 ers of civilization, were overprone to polygamous indulgence. 
 
 Indeed, the more to the credit of the Monobo rank and file 
 was their monogamy, from the fact that five to fifteen dollars 
 in any form of tribal wealth sufficed to buy a bride from even 
 the most grasping parents! 
 
 Likewise the less the wonder that the captains of local pred 
 atory industry, the Criminal Rich of the Mt. App jungles, 
 fattened more or less to surfeit on the spoils of their enemies 
 and the sweating of their tributary clansmen, drunk of their 
 power and reckless in its exercise, as are most high-fortuned 
 folk, whatever their race or environment, should contemn 
 tribal conventions and fill whole tree tops nigh solid with con 
 nubial nests cradling a variegated assortment of yokemates ! 
 
 Did they less, untrue would they be to the most sedulously 
 practiced if not the most honored traditions of insolent In 
 dustrial Captaincy. 
 
 [12]
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 ESA LEARNS WITCHERY AND WITCHCRAFT 
 
 Unthreatened by Moros or by warring tribesmen, naught 
 did the Monobo fear but the displeasure of his gods, of Dewa- 
 ta and his familiars, for was not every type of happening with 
 in their horizon that terrorized or might harm them a mani 
 festation of deistic wrath? 
 
 And who but Usup could save, who but he could intercede 
 for them? 
 
 Small the wonder, then, far advanced in years as he was and 
 bereft of his sons, that many, very, very many were the nights 
 he devoted to the training of Esa, alike in the witchery of the 
 kuteehapee and the witchcraft on which he throve. 
 
 Many were the soft tropical nights heavy with the intoxi 
 cating scents of the forest, when the slow pulsing breezes 
 caress the cheek like loving finger tips and all but insect voices 
 and the shrill screams of the tigres are stilled, that Usup with 
 drew little Esa to a nest by themselves, hand-over-handing 
 along swinging lianas until they were quite apart from all 
 others. 
 
 And once so come to a favorite perch, presently the kutee 
 hapee would begin to softly trill, to trill so softly it could 
 scarcely be heard ten yards away, a veritable whisper of har 
 mony that often the droning insect voices drowned. 
 
 And then Usup would begin a story of some of the wonders 
 he alone of all their clansmen knew. 
 
 Stories of wonders and of terrible deistic agencies that at 
 first frightened the little maid, still slender almost as a reed, 
 but daily growing deeper of chest and rounder of arm of her 
 arboreal life and fuller limbed of darting about the jungles 
 and climbing Mt. Apo s steep slopes. 
 
 So it was, still night by still night, she learned that the thunder 
 is Dewatas voice ; the lightning, the searching, burning glance 
 
 [13]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 of His angry eye; the tornado, His wrathful breath; the abun 
 dant rains and fat crops, His benignant indulgence. 
 
 So she learned that, from His throne high aloft among the 
 clouds on Mt. Apo, Dewata gives or takes the sun, moon and 
 stars from His people at His will, obscures or reveals them. 
 
 Thence, from His throne, by the infuriated stamping of His 
 mighty foot, He rends and rocks the earth. 
 
 Thence He sends out His myriad familiars into the most hid 
 den recesses of the forests and the farthest parts of the earth 
 to spy upon and influence alike the lives of men and beasts, 
 each of whom in his turn must be appeased to win their favor 
 with their supreme overlord. 
 
 Thence, to mothers heedless of Him, He sends deformed 
 and blind offspring. 
 
 And chief among the innumerable deities of His hierarchy is 
 Toomulkun, an enormous red bird, never seen of any but the 
 adept eyes of an Ingorandy. 
 
 One day, she, Esa, shall see him! 
 
 And she shudders. 
 
 And then, oh ! the terror of Busau, the habitually malignant 
 god! 
 
 A most hideous monster is Busau, that flies through the air, 
 rises wraith-like out of still pools, emerges from the solid 
 trunks of sound trees, assumes the shape of a bird or beast or 
 reptile at his evil will ! 
 
 Busau? 
 
 Why, so terrible is he that only against the tribe s enemies 
 does the Ingorandy invoke him. 
 
 But sometimes, Esa must remember, he becomes intract 
 able and throws down Monobo houses, usually when Dewa 
 ta s angry foot is stamping and the earth is trembling. 
 
 And the Limbingen, how they are literally swarming with 
 evil genii while Munowog hovers in their vicinity ! 
 
 How they are alive with bad Limbings, the little devils that 
 do their haunting and work their malevolence in toad or rep 
 tilian forms ! 
 
 The Limbingen, the haunts of the Limbings, are always great 
 
 [14]
 
 ESA LEARNS WITCHERY AND WITCHCRAFT 
 
 balatas, a type of rubber tree. Disguising their sinister in 
 tent, upon the stately trunks of these balatas tiny tendrils of 
 the matapalo stealthily steal and about them twine, as if in 
 loving embrace. 
 
 But there the matapalos cling and climb and GROW, thick 
 ening and extending themselves, ever pressing harder, gnaw 
 ing deeper, until bark and cambium are withered and the 
 very sap cells are compressed past capacity to fulfil their func 
 tions. 
 
 Destiny, only destiny itself pursues and finishes the execu 
 tion of its decrees as implacably as the matapalo, indifferent 
 to time, slowly, patiently, remorselessly and inevitably de 
 stroys all tree life it once seizes upon. 
 
 Soon boring insects do the rest, gut all dead wood from within 
 the tangle of massive buttressing vines and lo! the haunts 
 the Limbings love are ready for tenancy, great dusky cavities, 
 broad and high as were the vanished trunks, each spacious 
 for untold thousands of the little demons. 
 
 And there they stay holding such wicked carnival and thence 
 from them issue such terrible spells that any Monobo would 
 die before he would venture near a Limbingen in the night. 
 
 Invincible are the Limbings even against the shrewdest in 
 cantations of the most learned Ingorandy, so long as Muno- 
 wog is near. 
 
 Munowog? 
 
 Oh, he is a huge bird, big as a house and black as a burnt 
 stick. 
 
 Eggs? 
 
 Why Munowog lays black eggs big as a boar s body with the 
 head off, and hatches them by burying them in the sand of 
 river bars exposed to the sun. 
 
 Round about he awkwardly trots, like a lame man, and sel 
 dom does he fly. 
 
 But once the Ingorandy sees Munowog awing, and knows the 
 good fairies will immediately chase away the little demons 
 and take their places in the Limbingen, he runs to bring the 
 clansmen for the pleasure and profit of a sight of the fairies.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But run fast as the wind though he may, never have any ar 
 rived before a Limbingen in time to glimpse a fairy. 
 
 Still, what does it matter? 
 
 For, of course, the Ingorandy has seen them and is ever ready 
 to tell of them and to convey the largess of merriment, good 
 cheer, fat crops, and sound health the fairies bring for all at 
 so much a tell and a convey. 
 
 And how acutely must the Ingorandy regret that none of his 
 people arrive in time to hear the sweet music and happy songs 
 and smell the masses of fragrant flowers with which the fairies 
 brighten the sombre haunts of which they have dispossessed 
 the bad Limbings! 
 
 That, especially, Esa will do well to remember.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 POTENTIALITIES OF A HUMAN CIPHER 
 
 And yet, insignificant human cipher though he was, it was 
 precisely young Kent who, in effect, determined Ruth SnelPs 
 career and drove her into the perils of exile remote from her 
 home and friends. 
 
 Thus often do the cheapest pawns on the chessboard of life 
 temporarily exercise terrible potentialities. 
 
 Over young Kent, Ruth Snell and her father clashed for 
 the first and last time. 
 
 Not in the white heat of anger that often fuses into remorse 
 and regret did their wills clash, but in disagreement so bitter 
 ly cold that the slender bond that subsisted between them 
 parted like the brittle straw it was. 
 
 Told she must receive young Kent, win his proposal and 
 marry him, Ruth reproachfully protested. 
 
 "But, father, what would you say if you had such a brain 
 less idler of an incompetent for a son?" 
 
 Quick came the remorseless answer: 
 
 "Ha! as son, I d disown him, or drive him in overalls among 
 the mill hands, if anything could be found the idiot could do." 
 
 "And yet you would have me marry him, a creature you d 
 hold unfit to own as a son, father?" 
 
 "Why, yes, Ruth, I m thinking he ll do you quite well enough 
 as a husband. His father did a pretty good job of work, good 
 enough to warrant overlooking his son s deficiencies, it strikes 
 me, when we come to consider the millions he has stowed 
 away. Then you must admit young Kent has no vices is 
 harmless as your grandma s old gander." 
 
 "But to this day, father, you know you will tolerate no idle 
 ness in mother or me," adding softly, scarcely audibly, after 
 a deep sigh, "and sometimes it seems you even begrudge us 
 necessary rest."
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Certainly, Ruth, it s everyone s duty to keep busy. Do 7 
 rest? 
 
 "And as for him" he added before Ruth could reply, after a 
 mirthless chuckle which was the nearest approach to laugh 
 ter he ever indulged, "as for him, Ruth, you may believe me 
 I have some very definite plans for forcing him to my ways of 
 thought and work once you ve hooked him and old Kent is 
 buried. 
 
 "The old man is breaking fast. Soon he ll be down, but not 
 before I m named in the trusteeship of the estate with power 
 to tie knots in that boy when I like and his short-comings 
 prompt me to tie em. Which will be about every day until I 
 get him lined out as I want him. 
 
 "It will be Industry spelled in big letters for him, and no sort 
 of nonsense in the use of his money." 
 
 "Ah! that s it!" Ruth coldly remarked, "I had begun to sus 
 pect as much. Thank you for making it quite plain. 
 
 "You hold me as a chattel, no more or less, as the chattel 
 daughters have been to savage fathers the world over since 
 the Stone Age, to be bartered to the highest bidder precisely 
 as they auction the slaves and beasts captured on their bloody 
 raids of their neighbors ! 
 
 "I m just a human commodity that has come cheap, but to 
 be sold as dear as parental cunning can contrive, as are the 
 naked, mindless maids of the deserts and the forests ! 
 
 "Well, I admit I should be thankful you hold me as high as 
 you do, but I confess to a lack of pride in the fact that my 
 father can manage to get his own consent to lower himself to 
 the level of those gibbering caricatures of Christian manhood 
 who were diggers of wild roots and gnawers of the bones of 
 their slain enemies." 
 
 "You d make a bad mistake, young woman, to ever again 
 talk to me like that," her father answered in the slow, meas 
 ured, calculating tones habitual to him, "you put the situa 
 tion, well, almost brutally, I should say. 
 
 "Barter you? Nothing of the sort. It s just business, pru 
 dence the wisdom come of a lifetime of successful business
 
 POTENTIALITIES OF A HUMAN CIPHER 
 
 dealing. I ve not been losing much as I ve gone along, have 
 I?" 
 
 "No, you certainly have not," Ruth replied, but adding 
 under her breath, "unless it s your self-respect, if you ever 
 had any." And then, presently, after a moment s reflection, 
 she made a last effort to save the straw that bound them to 
 gether, when she continued: 
 
 "But, father dear, don t you realize it s my life you are deal 
 ing with, not the product of your mills, my life and happi 
 ness? 
 
 "Married, one has bestowed one s self, For better, for 
 worse, the service has it. Must not her marriage inevitably 
 prove for worse for any woman, no matter what the station 
 from which she has sprung, who mates with such a human 
 zero as young Kent? 
 
 "Unless, to be sure, she be of that wickedest type of all 
 women who find their only occupation and happiness in the 
 wanton flaunting of their riches for the joy of the envy they 
 inspire. 
 
 "There are hearts that love abides in, we are told, although 
 it s little of that I m knowing; but surely in every marriage 
 where love is absent the wife must be possessed with either 
 pride or shame ; with pride in the man possessed or with shame of 
 her bondage to him. 
 
 "Do you realize that your insistence condemns me to such 
 shame, irretrievably; effaces hope of ever knowing pride?" 
 
 "Pride! Pride, girl?" the old mill man replied, "What can 
 you buy with pride? 
 
 "No pride was ever converted into bankable funds or other 
 tangible assets. 
 
 "Pride, girl? Why, Pride is synonymous of Failure. 
 
 "Pride it is that holds men back from the little detours from 
 the middle of the commercial road that make money and 
 he makes biggest money whose detours are widest, so he s 
 not stupid enough to get entangled with the law. 
 
 "Pride has no place in business. 
 
 [19]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Forget it, girl and I ll make you the richest woman in the 
 State. I ll tie up the Kent fortune so tight none of the courts 
 will manage to free it, and I ll train you how to make your 
 wealth as irresistibly attractive of more wealth as is the flow 
 of all the earth s floods to the sea." 
 
 [20]
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 HER LIPS A SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 
 
 It was the mornings, her free mornings, that Esa dearly loved. 
 
 Scarcely was the moon paled to silver, the droning insect 
 chorus hushed, the fugitive lamps of the luciernagas, those 
 giant fireflies of the tropics, faded, and dawn brightening her 
 nook of the world, than the bird-child was transformed to a 
 nymph no lover of beauty could deny his worship. 
 
 Up betimes, rival to the earliest risers of the feathered folk 
 among whom she dwelt, up out of her nest she rose, carolling 
 gaily as the sweetest singers of them all, and down a bejuco 
 slid to the ground. 
 
 Then into the Malbul s cool waters she plunged, gliding hith 
 er and yon over its still pools light as a feather wafted by va 
 grant breezes, her slender brown body supple and sinuous as 
 the python s, her slow sweeping arms gleaming bright as his 
 own silver-bronze scales, her exquisitely arched but dan 
 gerously full lips a veritable Scylla and Charybdis no man 
 careless of his helm could safely cruise near. 
 
 And finished her dip in the waters and standing preening 
 herself on Malbul s white sands, actually ablaze of the ardent 
 glances the eager sun had sprung aloft of the tree tops to fix 
 upon her, our bronze nymph was transmuted to gold. 
 
 Withdrawing within the shadow of the thick ranks of cana 
 brava that sentineled her favorite pool, tall ranks whose wav 
 ing tops made them look like the bravely plumed crests of a 
 squadron of gallant hussars, attendant upon their youthful 
 queen, awaiting her behests, there secluded from the embar 
 rassment of the all too burning glances of the sun, slowly the 
 dull red roses faded from her cheeks until they were dim and 
 shadowy as the ardors of banked coals, gradually the fast 
 heaving breasts lessened their pulsing. 
 
 Presently the cana brava was gently parted and out thrust a 
 lad s face, and a low voice called, "It s me, Esa; I m here." 
 
 [21]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Whirling in astonishment, and with just the color of a frown 
 of resentment at the intrusion, she answered, "Ah! Tugan. 
 But who gave you permission to come? * 
 
 "My well, my wish to see you. May I approach?" 
 
 "No, you cannot. You know I send for those I want," came 
 the imperious answer, bred partly of a sense of rapidly mount 
 ing superiority over her clansmen and partly of the wilful ways 
 even forest maids early learn their charms permit them to in 
 dulge. 
 
 And then, before the smile was wholly gone from Tugan s 
 face, the bird-child s curiosity stirred and she asked, "But 
 what is that you have in your hand?" 
 
 "Something I brought for you," Tugan pouted; "a guaca- 
 mayo I just shot; the biggest, finest feathered bird you ever 
 saw feathers to make you the richest tunic in Pugsan," and 
 he held aloft a great parrot wearing such a wealth of brilliant- 
 hued feathers as no maid could fail to covet. "And and 
 here s your dinner," he added, holding out a fat pava, lighter 
 of weight and black of wing and breast, but sweet and tender 
 of meat as the most royally bred of all the turkey tribe. 
 
 "Ah, good Tugan, you may approach," she sweetly smiled 
 proving Eve s daughters the wide world round differ little, 
 whatever their estate. Indeed, if it is true, as a more or less 
 wise cynic has held, that "If you would win women" civil 
 ized women "ptav diamonds," surely you may no more quick 
 ly win a wild forest maid than with bright feathers. 
 
 Leaping at her will, out to her across the white sands bounded 
 Tugan, a slender but powerful lad, perhaps only four years 
 older, but towering head and shoulders above her, dangling 
 the prizes that had won him favor in one hand and grasping 
 the long slim tube of his blow gun in the other. 
 
 Son of Chief Punungan, and eldest son at that, Tugan was 
 not only descended from a long line of the war chiefs of his 
 clan, but as the eldest of his brothers, one day would be wear 
 ing his father s flaming war plumes and leading stealthy raids 
 of his clansmen against their enemies. 
 
 The boldest and handsomest of all the youths of Pugsan, 
 
 [22]
 
 HER LIPS A SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 
 
 what wonder that already for two years Tugan had been thrall 
 to Esa, seldom farther from her little heels than behind him 
 trotted the well-trained hunting dog that unerringly trailed 
 the wounded deer flying of a careless arrow-shot or nipped 
 and turned the charge of maddened wild boar! 
 
 Likewise, what wonder that his unflagging devotion should 
 touch her heart strings and set them ringing tender cadences, 
 or that in the past she had joyfully drunk his caressing words 
 and encouraged his eager hope that one day they would be 
 mated ! Why not, indeed, when Tugan alone of all the clan 
 might aspire to win the hand of the favorite daughter of its 
 Luhus and Ingorandy? 
 
 But lately lowering clouds had been obscuring Tugan s best 
 loved visions. 
 
 The little maid was changing. 
 
 Often she would not answer him. 
 
 Sometimes she stood as if trying to look deep into the crowd 
 ing jungle, silent, seemingly even ignorant of his presence, 
 deaf to his voice. 
 
 MoreoftenstiII,anewnoteof authority had comeintohertones 
 that was strange indeed for a Monobo maid, even though she 
 be the daughter of the mightiest of his clan, and she ordered 
 him and others about as only his father, Punungan, talked 
 to his tribesmen when leading them to war. 
 
 What did it mean? 
 
 Surely she was not offended with him, for at other times she 
 was kind to him as ever, and sometimes still permitted him 
 to follow her through the forest as of old. 
 
 Tugan was puzzled, for in nothing was he mentally superior 
 to other Monobo boys of his age, save in the greater pains his 
 father, the chief, had taken to train him in the deft use of his 
 weapons and in forest craft. 
 
 And if herself to any extent sensible of such change, doubt 
 less she could no more have clearly explained it than could he. 
 
 Wholly ignorant he of the mysteries and wonders with which 
 Usup had been awakening and absorbing her young mind, 
 and of the mental uplift, the pride and sub-conscious sense of 
 
 [23]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 predominance over her fellows her rapidly growing knowledge 
 was stirring in her, come of a dawning realization that one day 
 shortly she would be playing upon their fears and encouraging 
 their hopes as now did Usup, she herself could probably have 
 told no more than that she had the right to unbridle her will. 
 
 [24]
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 THE VALUE OF ADVERTISING 
 
 "Oh, I see, father," Ruth answered, when her father con 
 tinued insisting on her marriage to young Kent, "of course, 
 your great experience makes anything you say deserving of 
 the highest consideration. 
 
 "But permit me to offer a suggestion you may, upon reflec 
 tion, recognize as valuable. 
 
 "It is this: Why not turn me over to the General Manager 
 of your Sales Department? * 
 
 "To my Sales Manager? What do you mean, Ruth? Are you 
 crazy?" 
 
 "I mean that for once you are on the verge of a serious busi 
 ness blunder that is likely to cause you heavy loss." 
 
 "Make a loss! I?" he snorted; "when I make a loss, about 
 everybody in my line will first be broke!" 
 
 "That s just the trouble," Ruth retorted; "you are now ven 
 turing out of your line of business, at least your usual line of 
 business, although you do not seem to realize it." 
 
 "Well, I guess you must be crazy," he snapped, with a very 
 near approach to a loss of his temper. 
 
 "I be caught venturing outside my line of business? Huh! 
 not in a million years. 
 
 "That s where I ve got em; know my line a little better than 
 the rest do and stick tight to it put in more time applying 
 what I know than they do, put in all my time at it, while most of 
 em go scatter-gunning into strange territory. Do you sup 
 pose you could explain what you imagine you mean?" 
 
 "Easily, father. The products of your mills sell throughout 
 the land, do they not?" 
 
 "Throughout the land? Why, girl, they re in every market 
 of the world." 
 
 "Quite so; I fancied as much. And you have an elaborate 
 sales organization finetoothcombing all the markets of the 
 
 [25]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 world for the lines of easiest resistance, for the points where 
 your wares will bring you the largest profits, have you not?" 
 
 "Elaborate? Why, it s ornate, girl; I guess my Sales Depart 
 ment don t miss much," he chuckled; "the other fellows are 
 welcome to anything we overlook." 
 
 "Splendid! So much the better. And that sales organization 
 you really regard as among the best, capable of getting the 
 highest price your goods could possibly be made to fetch?" 
 
 "Among the best? Why, girl, it s the best. Wouldn t surprise 
 me if my Sales Manager should contrive to trade a shipload 
 of ice to the Esquimaux for a cargo of ivory and peltries." 
 
 "Excellent. Then I take it you consider he might be effective 
 with, say, the Sultan of Turkey, or the Shah of Persia, with 
 English dukes or perhaps with the fabulously rich Hindu 
 princes?" 
 
 "Would he? Well, he d about trade em out of their crowns!" 
 And then, presently, his hawk eyes narrowed and glaring, the 
 gnarled fingers nervously combing the thin gray beard, he 
 added, Good idea ! Brilliant, by Sam Hill. Wonder what we ve 
 got he might start advertising and convincing em they need 
 in their business?" 
 
 "But, sir, you have something they need, or might be con 
 vinced they want in their business." 
 
 "I have!" he exploded, too breathless to say more. 
 
 "You assuredly have, sir, and you are about to sacrifice per 
 haps the greatest opportunity of your life, so far as I have 
 heard anything of your plans. 
 
 "If you are really serious and think you could reach them by 
 advertising, you might begin tomorrow. It s not yet too late, 
 but soon it will be if you don t open your eyes and stir your 
 self." 
 
 "Reach them ! By advertising ! Why, by advertising I d reach 
 all but the disembodied spirits, and," with a grim chuckle, 
 "I m not sure we could not run even them a close race with 
 postered aeroplanes. 
 
 "Advertising! It s the very life-blood of business, your brains 
 the heart pump that energizes its flow through every artery 
 
 [26]
 
 THE VALUE OF ADVERTISING 
 
 and vein of the consuming world, the stronger the pump the 
 richer the flow. 
 
 "Cut your broadcast advertising, and rapidly your markets 
 narrow; stop it, and soon you ll find your customers limited 
 to your immediate neighbors. 
 
 "Potentates, princes, dukes well, I d cut out the English 
 dukes, but there should be good gunning among the Birming 
 ham ironmasters and Manchester cotton spinners; they re 
 the boys able to buy. 
 
 "But your Orientals appeal to me. Reach em! Why, I d tag 
 the tails of their sacred elephants, be-poster their palaces and 
 temples, slip beautiful lithograph inserts among the leaves of 
 their pet heathen scriptures, tattoo the ladies of their harems ! 
 
 "Reach them ! Just show me the goods, and then watch me!" 
 
 "But, sir, I m telling you that you have the goods goods 
 that will lend themselves, tolerably well, to lithographic illus 
 tration, although I must say I d be sorry to see them exploited 
 on elephant tails or the naked bodies of harem favorites." 
 
 "Well, maybe you can manage to tell me what in Sam Hill 
 they are. I ll " 
 
 "One moment, sir; I understood you to admit your business, 
 and hence your profits, would dwindle to insignificance if, by 
 dropping advertising, you limited your sales propaganda to 
 your neighbors. Am I correct?" 
 
 "Certainly you are; any fool could see that out of half an eye." 
 
 "And I may also assume you often if not always find the 
 best buyers for your wares by ranging far from our immedi 
 ate neighborhood?" 
 
 "Sure as you re born; but where are the goods? Tell me, girl, 
 where are the goods?" 
 
 For whole minutes Ruth stood eyeing coldly the hard, greedy 
 old face, and then she almost whispered, 
 
 "/ am the goods, sir! Have you ever offered me to any local 
 buyers? Am I not worth advertising? Turn me over to your 
 Sales Manager, and see if he does not find a customer at fig 
 ures that will make you ashamed of the buyer you want to 
 turn me over to." 
 
 [27]
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 A JUNGLE WOOING 
 
 From Tugan Esa took the birds he had brought her and toy 
 ed smilingly with the brilliant plumage of the guacamayo, 
 pleased as any duchess with some wonderful new gown stuff 
 proposed by Paquin, until presently, in tone of gentle resent 
 ment, Tugan said : 
 
 "And there s the pava, too, Esa; you have not noticed it. 
 My, but it s tender. Feel of its breast, plump and round as 
 plump as yours, little Esa." 
 
 "Yes, yes, Tugan," she answered, "I ve felt it and am sure I 
 never saw a finer. It s a good Tugan and a cunning hunter!" 
 
 At which the boy s dusky cheeks reddened with pride and 
 pleasure while he deftly twirled the long tube of his blow gun. 
 
 Then suddenly his face fell somber as he replied : 
 
 "So you tell me, and how I love to hear you say it; but for a 
 long time, Esa, you have not acted like so you really thought. 
 Has Tugan displeased you in any way?" 
 
 "Why, no, boy; what a silly thing of you to say. You re al 
 ways doing for me, always hunting chance to do more. What 
 is it you mean?" 
 
 "Oh, Esa, I hardly know myself, only, well, you talk to me 
 like father speaks to his warriors, and often when I am in 
 hand reach of you, you don t seem to know that I am near, 
 just like I was dead or high up on Mt. Apo." 
 
 "But what a foolish boy ! Why, you must know I like you bet 
 ter than anyone, unless, maybe Usup. Only so many things 
 are ringing in my head; so many, many that they are more 
 than all the leaves that clothe Mt. Apo. Better than any 
 other I like you near me, but somehow, I don t know why, 
 I ve no more wants than those I ve willed I shall have." 
 
 "But, little Esa," and he appealingly held out his hands, 
 "aren t you going to will to want me like you used to, always 
 
 [29]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 near you? Won t you will to let me ask you of Usup, one of 
 these days when you are a little bigger?" 
 
 For some time the maid stood still as a statue, her great al 
 mond eyes wide and expressionless of deep introspection. 
 
 At length, turning on Tugan a puzzling but kindly face, she 
 answered : 
 
 "I just don t know, boy. I ve got to wait to know myself. 
 Maybe Usup maybe no one may ask him how much he holds 
 Esa worth. 
 
 "But, tell me, lorita mia," he gently urged, "why is it so? 
 why so often do the shadows chase the smiles from your face; 
 why do you pass so many mornings wandering alone, why all 
 your afternoons alone aloft with LJsup; why do you not know 
 I am beside you when your eyes get big and still like those of 
 one just killed? Why, oh, tell me why, little Esa, are these 
 strange things, so far unlike your sisters of Pugsan?" 
 
 On him her great eyes fixed, and so they stayed until to him 
 it seemed they were looking through and past him into the re 
 motest depths of the forest where surely they must be see 
 ing things weird and terrible Tugan knows nothing of, for 
 they harden and glare in such an uncanny way that he shud 
 ders, shrinks back and stammers: 
 
 "Never mind, Esa, I I don t think I quite want to know." 
 
 Rousing slowly at sound of his voice, as from a heavy sleep, 
 and wholly ignoring his question, she ordered sharply : 
 
 * Leave these birds with Lancona and fetch my blow gun 
 and today you may follow me." 
 
 And when he returned a few minutes later, fetching his own 
 bow, quiver and spear as well as Esa s weapon, it was to find 
 her turned, her eyes fixed on the mysterious depths of the 
 pool, her little toes nervously questing in the sand probably 
 wondering whether Busau was haunting the pool s waters or 
 any of Munowog s big black eggs were hatching thereabouts. 
 
 Taking from Tugan her blow gun and its sheaf of tiny ar 
 rows, slender and sharp as pins and scarce ten inches long, 
 each tufted with a wisp of the snowy fiber that annually 
 whitens the heads of the cotton trees, and stained of point to 
 
 [30]
 
 A JUNGLE WOOING 
 
 an ominous brown by the poison in which they have been dip 
 ped, Esa instantly was transformed back to the child she was, 
 bounding away into the jungle at a pace none but the wild 
 folk bred in it can make. 
 
 Ducking low arching bush, writhing through tangles of be- 
 jucos that are literally spider webs for white feet, now sinking 
 deep in humid masses of rotting vegetation and then leaping 
 fallen forest monarchs or swarming over those too high to 
 leap, the two lithe brown bodies flashed through depths dusky 
 as the sea s floor, swift as the shadows of darting sharks, Esa 
 leading, Tugan hard on her heels, silent both, despite their 
 rapid pace, as the birds that darted away at their approach. 
 
 [31]
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 JOYS AND TERRORS OF THE JUNGLE 
 
 Esa was ever leading. 
 
 On and on she raced, straight as the close-twilled forest 
 growths permitted save where prudence learned of Usup made 
 her give wide elbow room to the Lim&ingen, for in all the vast 
 region occupied by the hill tribes there are no roads or even 
 footpaths of any description paths would serve all too well 
 to guide and expedite the attacks of enemies. 
 
 On and on, deer and pigs scurrying away at her approach, 
 wise of untold generations of experience of the nastily prick 
 ing things with which two-legged folk are ever chasing them 
 to their deaths, on till presently she came bang! on a great 
 twenty-foot python, extended asleep among the leaves 
 stepped on him, but leaped far away before he was fairly coil 
 ed for reprisal. 
 
 But no more was the hideous head raised, long forked tongue 
 angrily darting, than Tugan s spear had transfixed its thick 
 body and a poisoned dart from Esa s blow gun pierced its 
 throat. 
 
 And there, for the few moments the deadly poison took to 
 finish its work, our two little wild ones stood screaming in de 
 light of their prowess, watching the huge tortured coils mow 
 ing bush and sweeping big saplings to slivers until heart ac 
 tion stopped and the hateful monster lay still. 
 
 On and on, now racing up steep slopes at little abated pace, 
 up slopes that gave Tugan his first inkling of her purpose 
 to reach a certain lofty spur of Mt. Apo, on whose crest she 
 had recently been spending many mornings. 
 
 Up they climbed through shadowy labyrinths of the most 
 gigantic vegetation the world holds. 
 
 Thick about them were flowers beautiful beyond the dreams 
 of the sensuous weavers of Bacchanalian wreaths. 
 
 Kissed were their hot cheeks by humid airs heavy with strange 
 
 [33]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 exotic fragrances, at once so stimulating and intoxicating 
 that they would charm the breath of life into the withering 
 shell of a Theban mummy. 
 
 Around them towered columns of Nature s temples, whose 
 beauty of proportion suggested the majestic dignity of an 
 cient Greek architecture. 
 
 Down about them hung low, drooping masses of the deli 
 cate tracery of nodding leaf and twig that gave the Arabs 
 their airily fantastic style. 
 
 There within those labyrinths never do the sun s rays pene 
 trate. 
 
 Only from the margins of the larger streams may one see 
 that here and there the cloudless zenith stripes the green for 
 est roof with pale sapphire bands. 
 
 And when the wind is sleeping in distant caverns or muster 
 ing its forces high aloft among the mountain peaks, then the 
 hand of God paints upon stilled waters pictures of the infinite 
 riches with which He has margined them. 
 
 Poetry? Here, near by, surely must reside its very spirit. 
 
 For here one s every languorous sense is suffused with the 
 most intoxicating perfumes, melodies and beauties of nature. 
 
 Here flower-wreathed towering trunks that are the offspring 
 of remote centuries fire the imagination with visions of mad 
 revel in the palaces of ancient days. 
 
 Here the fragile beauty of orchids peoples the shadows with 
 the tantalizing forms of dancing nymphs. 
 
 Nor is the appeal of these dusky labyrinths limited to the 
 voluptuous. 
 
 Far from it. 
 
 For here is the primitive abode of all pathos and tragedy. 
 
 Here first sounded the most saddening moans of the one and 
 the most agonizing screams of the other. 
 
 Here began, away back in the early morning of Time, the 
 ruthless struggle for survival of the fittest that may never end 
 so long as men are born and seeds germinate. 
 
 Here never may one long dwell with his blither phantasies. 
 
 [34]
 
 JOYS AND TERRORS OF THE JUNGLE 
 
 Here merry carols are quickly followed by shuddering and 
 sobs. 
 
 What small wonder so many of the primitive races of hu 
 manity were sun worshippers when nothing in animate nat 
 ure thrives that is long denied the sun save the corrupt and 
 noisome growths? 
 
 Here the struggle for the sun s favors is at its bitterest. Here 
 each giant trunk wars ruthlessly to overtop its neighbors and 
 win the sun s largess that alone may serve to rank it above 
 the dwarfed and feeble it has mastered. 
 
 In its turn, sooner or later, each giant trunk falls prey to the 
 implacable enemy all are powerless to resist, that hideous, re 
 lentless vegetable python, the matapalo, while the victims it 
 has shouldered aside are loaded with the weight of orchids 
 until their feeble trunks can no longer support the burden, or 
 stripped of leaves or honeycombed of body by insects, who in 
 their turn, of course, must live. 
 
 And deep down in the dank darkness about the feet of the 
 giants and the dwarfed, lurk and battle among themselves 
 crowding throngs of the noisome, short-lived herbs and hate 
 ful, thorny shrubs. 
 
 Ugly caricatures are they of the nobler forms of vegetable 
 life. 
 
 Accurately do they typify the dwellers of the underworld of 
 all the cities man has ever builded. 
 
 And hidden among them, and all shrouded in grizzly, fes 
 tooning mosses, lay the majestic torsos of the mightier mon- 
 archs of earlier forest dynasties, quicker prey to effacement 
 by the hand of Time than is the handiwork of the vanished 
 races of men. 
 
 [35]
 
 CHAPTER X 
 DREAMING IN THE TREE TOPS 
 
 Steadily our two little wild ones climbed until they reached 
 the crest of the spur, where, as Esa well knew, a truly royal 
 palm thrust its emerald crown high above all its neighbors. 
 
 Approaching it, with an imperative "Wait!" to Tugan, up 
 the smooth, straight trunk she mounted easily as on a stair 
 case, hitching ahead of her at each step the section of stout 
 vine she had whipped around the palm and held in both hands. 
 
 Up she climbed, farther and farther, until, just as she was 
 disappearing into the shelter of the palm s wide-spreading top, 
 she looked to Tugan no bigger than a tiny rodent. 
 
 And once come there and perched in her favorite nook, what 
 a stupendous spectacle lay spread before her! 
 
 What a boundless emerald sea whose insistent waves swept 
 up the broad flanks of Mt. Apo, until lost among the mists 
 that hid its head, and lapped the farthest confines of the bird- 
 child s world ! 
 
 A sea unruffled through the still hours of dawn and eventide 
 when tropical breezes best love to take their rest, wind-swept 
 and heaving throughout the day ! 
 
 An emerald sea that there high aloft washed Dewatas feet 
 and whose dusky depths down far below her were the haunt 
 of Busau, of Munowog and his demon brood, the Limbings! 
 
 Yes, and far away beyond that emerald sea, near where the 
 sun retires to rest, there dwell the terrible Moros, and off 
 somewhere on their right, beyond big waters, dwell the Pad 
 dies, whose weapons smoke like Mt. Apo! 
 
 Esa shivers and nestles deeper into better concealment 
 among the palm s broad fronds. 
 
 What if any of the mighty of Dewatas hierarchy should see 
 her and manifest themselves? 
 
 She certainly would die of fright. 
 
 As for the Moros and the Paddies, for them she does not 
 
 [37]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 care; even should they see her they could not reach her, for 
 neither are tree folk like the Monobos. 
 
 Ah! but is she not glad she brought Tugan? To be sure, 
 there s nothing he could do to oppose or charm away the 
 Mighty Ones, but it is indeed good to have near something 
 that is warm and walks and climbs and talks as she does. 
 
 Thus, while it was the fascination Usup s tribal gods had for 
 her that brought her there, for broad outlook over the vast 
 domain they ruled, for a time their lure was effaced by her 
 fear of them, and she sat shivering like the little child she was. 
 
 But presently the great somber almond eyes grew fixed, and 
 Esa began to dream. 
 
 And through her dreams raced what smokings of Mt. Apo 
 at Dewatas mighty sneezes, what terrible shakings and rend- 
 ings of the earth at the stampings of his feet; what demon rev 
 els among the Limbings and cruel devil work by Busau; what 
 atrocities by the Moros and what stupidities among the Pad 
 dies! 
 
 Frightful folk were they all, gods and humans alike, but had 
 not Usup taught her how to avoid and escape some and to 
 charm, wheedle or constrain others to the doing of her will, 
 even as he, the great Lukus and Ingorandy, influenced and 
 employed them? 
 
 So on and on she dreamed for hours until the heat of the 
 high-mounted sun roused her and she rose from the conceal 
 ment of her nest, rose brave with the confidence come of a 
 growing sense of mastery, the dark eyes flashing resolution. 
 
 Out and around her she boldly gazed. 
 
 Ha! Let them come, any of them, from Dewata down to the 
 littlest Limbing! 
 
 She would know how to receive them. 
 
 She would show them she was worthy daughter of wise old 
 Usup, fit to take up his mantle when he dropped it! Let them 
 come! 
 
 And then suddenly realizing she must race to reach Pugsan 
 before the sun stood straight aloft, and, like all her clan sis 
 ters, dutiful to her parents as few daughters of civilization 
 
 [38]
 
 DREAMING IN THE TREE TOPS 
 
 are, down the smooth palm trunk she slid, aided by her vine 
 rope. 
 
 There at the palm s foot Tugan awaited her, oddly for a lit 
 tle savage, awake, after dull hours of idle waiting for her de 
 scent. 
 
 Indeed, there had been no sleep for Tugan that morning for 
 the mystery of the new traits Esa was developing and her 
 strange conduct had set him puzzling to understand them 
 until his head ached. And now that she was again beside him, 
 he was as far from an answer as when she had disappeared 
 among the palm fronds. 
 
 "Tired waiting, Tugan?" she smiled. 
 
 "Tired? No," he answered, "but in the name of the father 
 of alligators, what have you been doing up there in the palm s 
 top? Asleep, I suppose." 
 
 "No, Tugan, not sleeping, and yet dreaming." 
 
 "Dreaming! Now how could you dream without first sleep 
 ing? You must be getting wise as Usup or crazy as Punungan 
 when he drinks his fill of palm wine." 
 
 "Were you to get like me only you won t you would know 
 that one may dream more waking than sleeping" shortly 
 adding, after a tired sigh at thought of the heavy tasks her 
 father was setting her, "I may get as crazy as Punungan, but 
 never as wise as Usup." 
 
 "Wouldn t get like you if I could," the boy pouted, "for you 
 can t make anything out of your dreams, or kill and eat them. 
 More fun out in the bush with your bow or blow gun in an 
 hour than in a dream a day long nor will a dream fill an 
 empty belly." 
 
 When, having in mind the generous offerings to his gods 
 Usup easily procured and appropriated she broadly smiled 
 and replied, "Ah, but there s where you re wrong again, Tu 
 gan, for so you know how to profit by dreams, they will feed 
 more people than can twenty hunters." 
 
 Which was about the last word needful to convince him that 
 Esa was too crazy to be worth talking to longer on the sub 
 ject. 
 
 [391
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 A HUMAN BAIT 
 
 "Well! Well, may the Merrimac dry up and my turbines 
 lack water if I ever heard the like of that!" growled James 
 Snell, when Ruth proposed she be turned over to his Sales 
 Manager. "You " 
 
 "Pardon, sir; let s stay wholly rational and try to be logical," 
 Ruth interrupted. "Let s call things by their right names. 
 To you, I m nothing but a bait with which to tempt and hook 
 the richest fish your line will reach. That s all my marriage 
 means to you." 
 
 "You re putting the case brutally hard, young woman; I 
 won t " 
 
 "Pardon again, sir; you know I m only stating the simple 
 truth. 
 
 "Moreover, you cannot pretend to deny I m the most valu 
 able single asset you have, for on your own admission you are 
 expecting me to bring millions. 
 
 "Now, sir; if you are not blind or false to all your business 
 principles, you ll cease limiting the play of your bait to the 
 slenderly stocked neighborhood pools. 
 
 "Your reel holds a line long enough to girdle and criss-cross 
 the earth. Free the reel and let your line out. 
 
 "Flick your bait about among the fat fish of New York and 
 Pittsburg and Chicago, of London and Constantinople, of 
 Teheran and Central India. Yes, even fish the foul Ganges, 
 for matters not to you the slime he haunts so your fish weighs !" 
 
 "Ha ! Ha ! And so you re marking yourself up, young woman ; 
 you re-" , 
 
 "No, sir; were I doing the price making, I d be marking 
 down, not up. But it s not a case of price making with you. 
 Rather, it s just an auction, and you re risking me before a 
 stupidly small audience. 
 
 "Am I not worth advertising, I repeat? Would I not make 
 
 [41]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 an effective, yes, perhaps even a strikingly pleasing subject 
 for the best half-tone the modern processes produce? 
 
 "Circulate me broadly, whether as an insert in heathen 
 scriptures, as you propose, or otherwise, are you not pretty 
 sure to find a higher bidder for me than young Kent? Espe 
 cially if such legend as your resourceful Sales Manager de 
 vises for the striking enumeration of my charms should also 
 display, in bold type, whatever arrangement of seven figures 
 you calculate will represent the fortune you are intending to 
 leave me?" 
 
 The cruel old mill master s usually pallid face purpled with 
 anger, but it was in very cold, low tones he answered, "Huh! 
 Not such a bad idea. Might try it if I d thought of it myself. 
 
 "But since I m not in the habit of changing plans I ve once 
 settled on, either you will accept and marry young Kent or 
 two figures, of low denomination at that, will represent the 
 value of the fortune I ll leave you!" 
 
 To which Ruth just as firmly answered, "Quite as you like 
 as regards your money; indeed, if it has all come to you as 
 filthy as would be that you now seek to annex at my expense, 
 I m sure I don t want a penny of it. 
 
 "But as for my marriage, you can depend that will be quite 
 as I like, when and with whom I like, and you may be sure 
 young Kent will never be considered by me." 
 
 The huge, rude figure shook slightly with rage. 
 
 The pale blue fish eyes gleamed balefully as those of a roused 
 reptile. 
 
 The great misshapen fingers worked nervously as if eager to 
 seize her throat or hurl a missile at her head. 
 
 And doubtless he would have seized or struck her but for his 
 lifelong practice of contriving crueler punishment than any 
 his own nard hands could deliver. 
 
 But presently, the clutching fingers stilled. 
 
 The purple face faded to pasty white. 
 
 And then there turned and left the room a characteristic 
 specimen of a hideous modern type that neither religion nor 
 other refining influences of civilization have sufficed to up- 
 
 [42]
 
 A HUMAN BAIT 
 
 lift a single jot above squalid unlettered brutes except in 
 knowledge that more profit may be had of their victims by 
 exhausting their muscles in labor than by slaying them and 
 gnawing their bones. 
 
 And as he marched down the path toward his mills, blind to 
 the flowers that lined it, indifferent to their fragrance, deaf 
 to the sweet piping of the birds perched in the arching elms, 
 less God-fearing, despite all his protestations and all his pains 
 taking observance of his creed s external forms, than any pa 
 gan, he growled through set teeth : 
 
 "By God! but that girl would make a great business woman, 
 if I could only break her ! Well, if I can t, it will be make her 
 own living for her. Not a penny of mine shall she have!" 
 
 [43]
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 BATTLING WITH THE WILD BOAR 
 
 Leaving the royal palm, away home-bound Esa and Tugan 
 sped through the forest, Esa as usual gliding in the lead, and 
 snatching a flower here and there until, shortly, she had her 
 self decked with a crown far more beautiful if not so regal as 
 the emerald crest of the palm she had just left, for still in all 
 but her knowledge of Usup s grim lore she was just a romping, 
 forest child. 
 
 Nor, as it happened, was their return to be less free of start 
 ling incident than was their coming. 
 
 For not far had they gone before who should step out upon 
 them from concealment in bush than Lancona, so suddenly 
 that instinctively they raised their weapons, but fortunately 
 so near they recognized her before they had time to wield them. 
 
 And clearly Lancona herself had been noless startledthan they , 
 for she was replacing a little blow gun dart among its mates. 
 
 Such are the surprises of jungle life and so must jungle folk 
 ever be on the alert to meet them. 
 
 "Ah, so it s you, young ones," she smiled; "you gave me a 
 fright; I could not fancy what folk could be coming at such 
 speed. * 
 
 And then she picked up the bundle of potent herbs she had 
 been gathering, all carefully wrapped in the broad leaves of 
 the platanillo to guard them from the prying eyes of the un- 
 anointed in the secrets of her medicinal art, and fell into pace 
 with them. 
 
 Perhaps it was Dewata who sent her to them. 
 
 Who knows? 
 
 Anyway, it was not long before they were so thinking, and 
 when they got to Pugsan and told Usup,he agreed it must be so. 
 
 For only a little way had the three proceeded together be 
 fore they met a lone wild boar, a huge, grizzled ancient of 
 his mob, who like most old males of the larger four-footed 
 
 [45]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 folk met flocking by themselves, will more often fight than run. 
 
 Nor was he an exception. 
 
 No more had his fierce little eyes spied them than at them 
 he charged, bristles and ears straight upstanding and great 
 tusks gnashing, tusks big and sharp enough to rip the heart 
 out of an alligator at a single slash. 
 
 Sprung so suddenly upon them was the peril, that, had the 
 children been by themselves, surely one or both had perished. 
 
 Neither screamed, nor much less did they shirk or try to fly; 
 but their little hearts were so aflutter of the surprise and the 
 terror of it, and their little hands so inexperienced in meeting 
 such a jack-out-o -the-box emergency, that Esa s dart struck 
 no better than a leg, whence its poison would be slow to reach 
 and stop the heart, and Tugan s arrow splintered on the massive 
 head just enough to sharply spur the boar s fury. 
 
 Instantly dropping bow, Tugan bravely met the charge with 
 a spear thrust that tore the grizzled side but glanced along 
 the ribs, and paid for his temerity by being sent to earth with 
 a gaping gash deep in the muscles of the thigh. 
 
 But then, just as the boar turned upon Esa, Lancona, slow 
 er to make ready for action than the children but steady of 
 her years of experiencejanded a blow-gun dart deep in a mad 
 ly blinking eye that set the monster whirling in circles and 
 shrilly squealing of pain until she had time to snatch Tugan s 
 spear and finish him with a stab behind the shoulder. 
 
 Useful mothers does jungle life make, ready for any emer 
 gency and devoted as well, ever utterly reckless of self 
 where their young are threatened. 
 
 Esa? Worthy daughter of Lancona was she, or would be in 
 time when she had steadied a bit, for in the seconds that suf 
 ficed for these happenings she had placed three more darts in 
 the big enemy, but so badly that they could not have sufficed 
 to save her had she been alone. 
 
 And Tugan? Oh, Lancona did not make much of a scratch 
 like that. Trifles like that were minor incidents among the 
 perils jungle folk constantly run. Soon her shrewdly working 
 herbs would heal it. 
 
 [46]
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 "WORK, MOTHER; I LL WORK" 
 
 Meantime, Ruth stood where her father had left her, still 
 and quite as white as a marble statue. 
 
 Presently her mother, who had sat throughout the interview 
 a silent and more or less impassive listener, disciplined from 
 her youth to hold her tongue and never to question James 
 Snell s mandates, approached, laid her hand on the girl s 
 shoulder and said : 
 
 "But, Ruth, girl, you re forgetting we ve always got to do 
 just what pa says. He don t never change his mind. If you 
 don t take young Kent, pa II never do for you. What can you 
 be thinking of? Ain t you afraid?" 
 
 "Afraid, mother?" Ruth answered. "I m far less afraid of any 
 thing I may suffer of his not doing for me than of the shame 
 of what he wants to do to me to marry me to a fool." 
 
 "But when he turns you out of the house, what will I do, 
 daughter?" 
 
 "You, mother? Oh, you ll continue doing what you ve al 
 ways done, and will never cease doing while you live you ll 
 continue doing his will;" adding, after a short pause, "but 
 not for me; none of his cruel will for me nor will I wait to be 
 turned out by him." 
 
 "But what can you do, daughter, by yourself?" 
 
 "I m sure I ve not thought yet, mother, but at least I can 
 undo his brutal plan to barter his own flesh and blood for 
 money. 
 
 "And perhaps somewhere, somehow, I can do something for 
 humanity to offset his crimes against it." 
 
 "Crimes, daughter? That s a hard word. Surely you cannot 
 mean to apply it to such a just and law-abiding man as pa! 
 Crimes the courts punish, and they ve never had pa in the 
 court." 
 
 "Ah, mother," Ruth wearily sighed, "too many, far too many 
 
 [47]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 of the biggest crimes against humanity the courts do not punish. 
 
 "Just and law-abiding he? Yes, perhaps; just when justice 
 cannot defeat his plans or lessen his profits ; law-abiding where 
 farther o erstepping the law would compromise him." 
 
 "But where how could you support yourself, daughter, 
 after father cuts you off?" 
 
 "Work, mother, I ll work! Has not father taught us to work, 
 ground it into us until we d not know how or where to begin 
 at trying to play? I ll work, to be sure, since I don t know 
 how to play and may not play if I would. I ll teach, I think. 
 Home discipline and Wellesley should have made me a ca 
 pable propagandist." 
 
 "But where will you begin, Ruth?" 
 
 "Either at the very top or at the very bottom of the social 
 ladder, mother, for the masses on its mid rungs are sane and 
 clean enough not to need teaching so badly, can be safely 
 trusted to themselves. 
 
 "It matters not the least at which end I begin. 
 
 "So many of those at the top of the ladder are dwarfed of 
 soul to the measure of Stone Age types of manhood and woman 
 hood and are so corrupt of vices that would shock the rawest 
 Stone Age brutes that they need purification as badly as the 
 jungle savages need uplift out of their ignorance. 
 
 "I ll go to the wilderness, mother, to any wilderness, say to 
 the Philippine Islands, and teach my naked sister of the jungle 
 to clothe herself, or else I ll stay at home and try to teach my 
 sister of the haute monde the shameless viciousness of half 
 clothing herself. 
 
 "Successful with either that far, I shall have hopes of con 
 vincing her God has given her a mind with which she may 
 think and hands that may be better employed than in deck 
 ing herself with gawds to which the one is as much addicted 
 as the other." 
 
 "But, child, what could you hope to accomplish alone?" 
 
 "Ah, mother, I d not be working alone, I m thinking. 
 
 "In savagery, possibly; yes. 
 
 "But here so little would I be alone that instead I d be only
 
 "WORK, MOTHER; I LL WORK" 
 
 an insignificant unit of the vast, irresistible army of good 
 women that shortly will be bursting all the last of the barriers 
 the world over that limit their privileges, an army that will 
 shortly efface the last of the monarchies and will purify re 
 publics the only army that can be looked to to purify pri 
 vate and public life and uplift the races. 
 
 "Man has had his chance, mother. He has been tried and 
 found wanting. 
 
 "Since the dawn of history, the wick of his intellect has been 
 alight and burning, but it has not sufficed to light humanity 
 materially nearer to the practice of the immortal precepts of 
 the Sermon on the Mount than prevailed when the Christ 
 spoke it. 
 
 "Perhaps those precepts may never be realized. God alone 
 knows. But certainly they can never be realized so long as 
 any form of human bondage exists upon the earth. For the 
 basic principles of those precepts are Freedom, Equality, 
 Justice. 
 
 "Man has had his chance, a free, untrammelled chance. He 
 has gone far and done much. But where in all the world to 
 day is not Freedom still a fledgling, Equality a mockery and 
 Justice a reproach? 
 
 "Where is Justice so long as laws of primogeniture and free 
 right to disinherit may serve to fatten a fool or rascally rake 
 or starve a daughter who asserts her independence of greedy 
 family plans for her disposal? 
 
 "Where is Equality so long as lords may continue lording 
 it and money creates castes? 
 
 "Where is Freedom until the laws give women equal rights 
 and privileges with men? 
 
 "Surely men must be victims of mental strabismus. 
 
 "Else they had gone infinitely farther, and higher. 
 
 "Freely have they given of their lives and gold, in millions 
 of both, to strike from all blacks their shackles and yet just 
 as stubbornly have they fought woman s struggles for intel 
 lectual and political equality and privilege. 
 
 "Can human bondage cease so long as woman is denied equal 
 
 [49]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 privilege with men and fathers constrain daughters to marry 
 where they ll fetch the most? 
 
 "Never; never, mother. 
 
 "But, thank God, the dawn is breaking, the dawn of the day 
 that shall be made immortally glorious by the emancipation 
 of woman. 
 
 "Light the wick of woman s intellect, give free play in pub 
 lic affairs to her spiritually acute perceptivity and penetra 
 tion, make place in the fighting line for her super-masculine 
 readiness of resource and intrepidity, train her steel-nerved 
 hand to the use of the political scalpel, and well, the millen 
 nium won t come, but the world cannot fail to be vastly bet 
 tered." 
 
 "Freedom! Privilege to do what one likes! I just wonder 
 what that would feel like?" the tired old mother murmured. 
 
 [50]
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 THE DATUS 
 
 The afternoon of their encounter with the wild boar, prob 
 ably nothing but Tugan s bad wound, and the fact that she 
 and Lancona had to all but carry him in, saved Esa from 
 chiding by Usup, the mild, kindly chiding which is about the 
 severest chastisement jungle children suffer at the hands of 
 their parents. 
 
 Certainly she was very late, too late old Usup decided for a 
 satisfactory lesson, for he was a glutton for work at his self- 
 imposed pedagogue s task. 
 
 Once begun a lesson, he loved to yarn on for hours. 
 
 Or perhaps he did not love it, but instead was driven to haste 
 with the instruction of Esa by realization of his advancing 
 age and anxiety to complete her preparation to succeed him 
 while yet he might. 
 
 Then, moreover, the clan had for some time been manifest 
 ing, mildly, to be sure, and yet plainly, a keen sense of his 
 neglect of them. They missed the dearly loved melodies of 
 his kuteehapee and the wonder and the thrills in which his 
 stories were never lacking. 
 
 For before beginning the instruction of Esa, few were the 
 nights they were not assembled in a close huddle around him, 
 intent upon his absorbing tales. 
 
 Wild eyes were fixed upon his, mouths widely gaping. 
 
 Eagerly they drank in the miraculous doings he recounted, 
 whether it was of the Moros, the Paddies or their gods he was 
 speaking. 
 
 For he talked to them just as freely of Dewata and his famil 
 iars as of the tribe s history and the doings of their neighbors, 
 of all except his private relations and dealings with them. 
 
 These, -of course, it was not good (for him) that they should 
 know. 
 
 So it was a very well pleased lot of the clan folk that came
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 crowding close when, that afternoon, Usup passed the word 
 that the rest of his day was theirs. 
 
 Their assembly chamber was a wide space near the village, 
 cleared of bush to better admit the breezes, its high arching 
 leafy roof supported by noble trunks that gave it at once a 
 beauty and a dignity no temple builded by man has ever 
 equalled. 
 
 Small the wonder that in such a temple, presided over by 
 such a wise Lukus and powerful Ingorandy, charmed by such 
 music the low trills of the kuteehapee, the whispering of the 
 leaves and the gentle murmur of MalbuPs purling waters 
 blending in divinely soft melodies the Pugsan folk sat spell 
 bound, entranced. 
 
 That day, Usup elected to tell them of their neighbors, mostly 
 stories they had heard scores of times but that they never 
 wearied of hearing. 
 
 As the Moros were their own next neighbors, he began, so 
 the Filipinos, the original wild tribesmen whom the Paddies 
 had subjected, peoned, and, in a crude way, instructed, dwelt 
 next beyond the Moros, and among Moros and Filipinos lived 
 the Chinos, cunning traders who got the best of it at bargain 
 ing. Their traffic they extended among the hill tribes as fast 
 as they were able, through the influence of the Moro Datus. 
 
 Sly people were the Chinos, never risking their necks or 
 goods by any sort of battling, strengthening their hold on the 
 Datus by playing their own tricks picking their wives from 
 among the kinswomen or the discarded concubines of the 
 Datus, just as the Datus harems are seldom lacking in rela 
 tives of the chiefs or Ingorandy s of their hill neighbors. 
 
 The mass of the Moros he always found good people. 
 
 They are brave in war and desperate fighters, but kind to 
 their families and the few slaves the Datus relentless squeez 
 ing of them permits them to own. 
 
 Honest they are, too, as are all Monobos, and devoted to the 
 one wife of their choice as are the guacamayos, who never are 
 seen separated from their mates, whether flying or perched, 
 as all jungle folk well know, and their tongues are straight.
 
 THE DATUS 
 
 But with the Datus, ah, it is very different. 
 
 Their tongues are crooked as the hill brooks, and all the 
 things they think and do are crooked as their tongues. 
 
 Their lives are bad, all bad. 
 
 Even when they swear by their Allah, any who believe them 
 are deceived. 
 
 Meaner and more cowardly than the lowest of their slaves, 
 they have a tigre s love of torturing all they can fix their claws in 
 before sucking the life blood, and cruel are they to their own peo 
 ple as to the hill tribes they war upon, until they are ready to 
 purchase peace with tribute. 
 
 Slaves and loot, slaves robbed of their neighbors and loot 
 they call taxes squeezed from their own clan and others they 
 can subjugate, that s all the Datus live for, except women. 
 
 For the richer they grow the bigger houses do they build and 
 call harems and the more women do they crowd into them, 
 uncontent with one woman as no right-living man should be. 
 
 Chiefly off the Datus do the Chinos fatten. 
 
 To them they sell the pretty stuffs, soft and bright-hued as 
 mariposa wings, with which they love to clothe themselves, 
 wonderful good things to eat or to have, and the powerful 
 Black Poison they touch fire to and suck the smoke of to make 
 sleep come. 
 
 But bad as he is, isn t the Datu a grand sight when he goes 
 abroad? 
 
 His legs are encased in close clinging stuff, shoulders cover 
 ed by a tight jacket all brilliant-colored as the brightest lora s 
 wing and gleaming with metals so hard to get and dear none 
 but Datus may have them. 
 
 Many folds of other stuffs are wrapped around his head. 
 
 The kris in his girdle has a handle that shines bright yellow 
 and is stuck full of glittering stones, each one costing the 
 price of more than a hundred of the prettiest girls ever auc 
 tioned to bidders for the harems ! 
 
 And his following is only a little less gaudily decked than is he. 
 
 First comes his sword bearer and executioner, ever at his el 
 bow, ready to do his bloody behests. 
 
 [53]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 At his left walks his umbrella bearer, sheltering him from 
 the sun ; on his right, the bearer of his Buyo box. 
 
 And trailing behind these, like the tail of the great lights 
 Dewata now and then sends across the sky to manifest His 
 power to His people, is a long string of his secretaries and 
 sub-chiefs. 
 
 The Buyo box? Ah, that is the stimulant the Moros love. 
 
 It may be good Usup has never tried it but how hideous 
 it makes them, turns the white teeth Dewata gave them black 
 as Munowog s eggs. 
 
 Do they eat the box? 
 
 No, no; they eat what it contains, the betel-nuts, fruit of the 
 bonga palm, mixed with a white powder they call lime and 
 get by burning certain kinds of stone. 
 
 Stained with cochineal and tobacco, the mess is flavored with 
 the sour juices of the yellow fruit that grows on trees in their 
 gardens. 
 
 Wow! but the horrors of black mouths the Moros get from 
 their Buyo boxes ! 
 
 Drunk; does it make drunk come like the palm wine? 
 
 Oh, no; else the Moros would never use it, for their Allah s 
 laws forbid them to use anything that makes drunk come. 
 
 It just gives them strength, they say. 
 
 And Usup thinks it must be so, for when they have partaken 
 of it they want to talk for hours. 
 
 In fact, no Moro, least of all a Datu, will begin any serious 
 talk until he has chewed his bonga nut. 
 
 But then look out for him, lest he talk you to death. 
 
 [54]
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 OUT OF BIG HORIZONS ARISE BIG MEN 
 
 Like all tropical communities, Cotabato had been drowsing 
 through the torrid heat of mid-afternoon. 
 
 With evening drawing near, the fronds of the palms were 
 swaying in riotous joy of the refreshing cool kisses the brisk 
 sea breeze brought them. 
 
 Likewise, all Cotabato was abroad afoot, each eager for his 
 or her reasonable share of the kisses. 
 
 For it is the cool breezes of eventide, more than anything 
 else, that quicken the dormant energies of dwellers in the 
 tropics, keep their blood from utter stagnation and rouse 
 them from the mental lethargy to which it is so delightfully 
 easy to succumb. 
 
 The town had filched a name it held nothing to justify. 
 
 Cota means Fort and Bato stone, and the old stone fort that 
 properly owned the name stood on a hill that rose one hun 
 dred and twenty-five feet above the swamps and river that 
 surrounded the half dozen blocks of reclaimed land that held 
 the town, and distant perhaps three hundred yards from it. 
 
 While the port of entry for the superbly rich Rio Grande 
 valley and the dense Moro population that occupies it, Cota 
 bato numbers as total population no more than three hundred 
 Filipinos, largely a legacy from the now extinct Spanish 
 minor officialdom, a hundred Chinese, a highly-mixed and 
 speckled assortment of half-breeds, two Spanish merchants 
 and one white planter. 
 
 At least, that was its status when the War Department took 
 it over and undertook the administration of tne region that 
 lay behind it. 
 
 Nor had the town changed in the meantime, except in the 
 improvement in its sanitation and the construction of bar 
 racks for the troops, regulars and native constabulary, quar-
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 ters for their officers, buildings to house the civil administra 
 tion, a hospital, and a school house. 
 
 But the civil administration, that is to say, the political ad 
 ministration, was still military, and its local head was the 
 General commanding all the Moro provinces from his head 
 quarters at Zamboanga. 
 
 And that was a day of extraordinary excitement for Cota- 
 bato, for the Coast Guard boat Palawan nodded lazily at her 
 anchor in I liana Bay, and the General commanding was ar 
 rived ashore on a tour of inspection. 
 
 That particular General commanding knew good material 
 when he saw it, and let none escape he could utilize. In which 
 he was wise, for, naturally, good material for the tasks con 
 fronting him was extremely rare, men of character and abil 
 ity who were familiar with the Moros and knew their tongue. 
 
 In fact, at the moment there was only one such available in 
 all Mindanao, and it was chiefly to persuade him to enter 
 Government service that the General was come. 
 
 Thus it happened that, the cool of evening come, the Gen 
 eral and Joseph Morine sat together upon the wall of the old 
 stone fort that topped Tantual Hill. 
 
 Morine was a very remarkable man, the sort that grow more 
 remarkable, and admirable, and useful, under the mellowing 
 of the years. For he was of a rare sort that inspires abiding 
 faith in all who come to know him that the years cannot run 
 on long enough to develop anything to his discredit. 
 
 Joseph Morine was one of the type of men it is a positive joy 
 to meet. One glance, and you knew you could trust him 
 and that he would trust you, if you deserved it. But you 
 would have to deserve it, that was a positive certainty. As 
 well try to deceive the Almighty Intelligence as to trifle with 
 him. 
 
 And yet he was a man as attractive to play with as to work 
 or fight with. Indeed, the wide-set, steel-blue eyes sunk in deep 
 caverns beneath the imposing cranial cliff that towered high 
 above them were so habitually twinkling with kindly humor, 
 that, at first experience of it, you were startled when they 
 
 [56]
 
 OUT OF BIG HORIZONS ARISE BIG MEN 
 
 hardened to the expression of some purpose that you instant 
 ly recognized to be as immutable as Destiny. 
 
 Nor was the Morine mouth less misleading, what little you 
 saw of it in its ambush behind the great brown, gracefully 
 curved guardsman s mustache. Full were the lips and gentle 
 their expression, while the eyes twinkled humor. But, once 
 roused, immediately the lips were swallowed and there re 
 mained naught but a ruthless straight slit that spelled fight 
 or fade to all in contrary interest. 
 
 Only the nose was entirely frank and aboveboard. Bold and 
 straight but thin of nostril, the stupidest adversary would 
 know that he could never hope to make that nose get out of 
 his way until its wearer was dead. 
 
 Here was a man quick of wrath but slow to vent it, aggres 
 sively bold, but so boldly just that he was incapable of main 
 taining he was right when he knew he was wrong. 
 
 Indeed, to him, justice and equity were his religion. 
 
 Any and all forms of wrongdoers he despised and hated. 
 
 And heavy fell his hand, almost cruelly sometimes, when 
 ever needful to correct or efface malefaction. 
 
 Among the Moros he had lived for some years, as planter 
 and trader, with him a wife well worthy of him and a son who 
 adored him, a lad of ten. 
 
 All Moros trusted him, the better Datus because they had 
 learned to esteem him, the bad ones because he had taken oc 
 casion to throw the fear of God into them. 
 
 Only out of contemplation of big horizons arise big men. 
 
 Rarely wide and varied had been the horizons that had 
 molded and inspired the mind of Joseph Morine. 
 
 Indeed, so widely round the world had he ranged that he 
 might be truly described as an adventurer but for the fact 
 his roamings were always with an earnest purpose and that 
 his time was always employed to some useful end. 
 
 A native of Australia, with his Irish father, he ranged the 
 bush trails while aboriginal warriors were still raiding, high 
 waymen preying on the travel to and from the mines, when
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 the normally upright were having a downright hard time 
 pacifying the land. 
 
 There through his youth a participant in the early struggles 
 of the Australians to free themselves from monarchial chains, 
 Morine acquired the hatred of dynastic hypocrisy and op 
 pression that made him both a close observer and a shrewd 
 analyst of prevailing political conditions wherever his wide 
 travels led him. 
 
 Leaving home early, he did not stop going, but with long 
 stays and much hard work en route, until he had pretty well 
 ranged Southern Asia, Central Africa and its East Coast, 
 Europe and North America, finding the United States so far 
 more nearly to his liking than even his native Australia that 
 he had transferred to the States his citizenship. 
 
 Thus at the early age of thirty-five, this man had come to 
 know the world as do few men ever come to know it, and its 
 people and governments had been his favorite study. 
 
 [58]
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE MORO RAIDERS 
 
 No more was Lancona up the morning after Usup s story 
 telling, her fire started by rubbing two dry bamboo sticks to 
 gether and breakfast boiling in sections of green bamboo laid 
 upon the live coals, than she sent Esa to bind fresh herbs on 
 Tugan s wounds. 
 
 The distance from her own nest was short, and soon Esa 
 had reached Tugan s perch and found that Lancona s potion 
 had kept down the fever and that her herbs already had his 
 wounds healing nicely. 
 
 Deftly the already skillful little fingers applied the fresh 
 herbs. 
 
 And while she was so engaged Tugan reflectively murmured : 
 
 "Esa, I think I m getting more afraid of you every day. You 
 are going to be a greater woman than Lancona. Already, you 
 know all she knows. And since I have been lying here think 
 ing about your strange conduct lately, how you order us a- 
 round as only a chief or Ingorandy may, how you often stand 
 and even talk like one asleep, I ve got a notion that Usup is 
 teaching you more of his mysteries than he tells anyone else." 
 
 "And so you re getting afraid of me, boy," Esa smiled; "non 
 sense; the more I may know the more I can do, don t you 
 think?" 
 
 "Yes; but the more you can do, the less you ll want to have 
 to do with me, I fear." 
 
 "Silly Tugan! I m getting prouder of you. That was a bold 
 stand you made when the boar charged the other day, even 
 if neither your arrow nor your lance hit true. Time and prac 
 tice will mend your aim, and make you a worthy successor to 
 Punungan, when Busau fails us and some enemy slays him!" 
 
 "Maybe; I hope so," Tugan grinned, "so you don t take a 
 notion to head the clan yourself and order us about as you do 
 me." 
 
 [591
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Ah, boy, that s far off," Esa soberly answered; "Punungan 
 and Usup are still strong. Many seasons will the snakes shed 
 their skins before you may wear Punungan s war plumes 
 and as for me, what should put such a silly thought in your 
 head?" 
 
 "Why, because you are now bolder than even Usup be 
 cause I d rather see you Chief and be your man than myself 
 be Chief without you." 
 
 "Well, well; it s a good Tugan and I m proud of him. He ll 
 surely make the best warrior of all the lads of the village 
 and he may be sure Esa won t have less than the best, even 
 should Usup want to otherwise dispose of her, which it s not 
 at all likely he will." 
 
 "And you mean you really will " 
 
 Laughingly Esa interrupted : 
 
 "Think of it! I mean I ll think of it, boy when the alligators 
 that are now little have grown big." 
 
 And then, after a light slap of the pouting face, she nimbly 
 slid down a vine and raced back for her breakfast, little think 
 ing that many, very many weary days must pass before she 
 would again see the devoted Tugan. 
 
 Breakfast over and such plenty in the village that none need 
 ed to go prowling into the forest for food, soon all the chil 
 dren and many of the elders were splashing in the MalbuFs 
 cool waters, while the rest idled along the margin watching 
 the sport. 
 
 Indeed, the Monobos were so nearly semi-amphibious and 
 spent so much of their time diverting themselves in whatever 
 stream they dwelt on, that it had long been the practice of 
 raiding Moros to pick the early morning or evening hours to 
 locate their quarry, slipping silently up or down streams in 
 their vintas (dugouts) until the merry shouts and splashing of 
 the tree folk pointed the chance of a surprise. 
 
 So well were these tactics known by the Monobos, however, 
 that comparatively few were the actual surprises. 
 
 Usually their guards spotted an approaching enemy before 
 they were in striking distance and called warnings that sent 
 
 [60]
 
 THE MORO RAIDERS 
 
 the clan folk scurrying away through the jungle, quick to dis 
 appear as the monkeys whose arboreal activities they rivaled. 
 
 But that morning Pugsan had no guards out, and dearly did 
 Punungan and his clan folk have to pay for his carelessness. 
 
 Raiding vintas were abroad. 
 
 A primitive little flotilla, led by Ishmael, the most ruthless 
 Saligan, or sub-chief, of Datu Linta s marauders, was cruis 
 ing for prey. 
 
 Each vinta was crowded with fierce-eyed fanatics to whom 
 all deniers of Mahomet are anathema. 
 
 Lean brown men the vintas carried, naked to the turbans 
 that sheltered their heads from the blazing tropical sun and 
 the waist cloths that held their krises and campilans, the lat 
 ter the same straight heavy sabers, swelling to wide leaf- 
 shape near the point, that all Mohammedan tribesmen still ef 
 fect. 
 
 Quickly Ishmael made his dispositions once he heard the 
 clamor of the Pugsan villagers. 
 
 Cunningly he landed two-thirds of his force and started 
 them on a detour that soon had his quarry surrounded. 
 
 Then, silent as leopards, his warriors narrowed their invest 
 ing lines until, presently, and all in an instant, the Monobo 
 laughter was turned to screams of pain, shouts of rage and 
 wails of fear, when crash! Crash! thundered the terrible Moro 
 weapons that roar like Dewatas voice and smoke like Mt. 
 Apo! 
 
 [61]
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 ESA S FIGHT FOR LIBERTY 
 
 If war in general is Hell, then nothing short of fiendish is it 
 when fire-armed men go slaughtering among primitive folk 
 simple as the earlier of Adam s descendants. 
 
 Oh, the horror of it, and the wickedness ! 
 
 And all to profit a lazy, crime-steeped chief, to win him 
 slaves, each of whom captured costs the fighting tribesmen 
 rarely less than half a dozen dead ! 
 
 And the cruelty of it I 
 
 Barbarians? 
 
 Yes. 
 
 Pagans? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 But with all their barbarism and paganism, folk of far cleaner 
 lives and a larger assortment of virtues than their captors 
 may truthfully boast, be the wild tribesmen what and their 
 captors whom they may. 
 
 Ah, sure indeed it is that none may intimately know the 
 primitive races and not be filled with mingled resentment 
 and regret that civilization must needs intrude upon their 
 idyllic lives only to demean and bedevil them, for nowhere 
 has such intrusion meant anything better for them, except in 
 such instances as it has mercifully resulted in their extinc 
 tion. 
 
 Crash! Crash! thundered the terrible Moro weapons that 
 roar like Dewatas voice and smoke like Mt. Apo. 
 
 And instantly down dropped several of the tribefolk, writh 
 ing of wounds or stiffening in death. 
 
 But never are jungle people far from their arms. 
 
 Soon long arrows were so stabbing and venomed darts prick 
 ing IshmaePs men that for a time made them keep their dis 
 tance. 
 
 In fact, the Moros* old Tower muskets were of immaterially
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 greater range than the Monobo bows, notwithstanding they 
 had the sulphur of Mt. Apo s crater and the saltpeter of num 
 berless bat caves to draw upon, for no Moros ever attained 
 much skill as powder makers. 
 
 Thus for a time it almost seemed the Monobos, gallantly 
 cheered on by Punungan and Usup, had a fighting chance. 
 
 But presently the one Remington breechloader the Moros 
 had began to tell. 
 
 Down sank old Punungan, of a shot that ruined the feather 
 head-dress Tugan had been expecting to fall heir to. 
 
 Over bowled Usup, but, luckily or otherwise, of a glancing 
 ball that no more than stunned him. 
 
 Then, the Monobos leader gone and their slender stock of 
 arrows and blow-gun darts exhausted, and only their cbonta 
 pointed spears remaining with which to withstand the gleam 
 ing wave of kris and campilan blades that swept in upon 
 and over them, soon the fight was ended. 
 
 Many, of course, slipped away through the Moro lines, deftly 
 as eels. 
 
 But when Ishmael closed in his ranks around his captives 
 he found he had a total of fourteen, mostly young children, 
 the sort the Moros prize the most. 
 
 Central among them upon the ground still lay old Usup, 
 with Lancona crouched wailing beside him. 
 
 Over them stood little Esa. 
 
 Fierce-eyed as a young tigress, Esa brandished the blade of 
 a spear whose haft had been shorn by a campilan blade. 
 
 Plainly she was in no mood for surrender. 
 
 And when rough old Ishmael himself stepped forward to 
 seize her and pass her to the men who were already engaged 
 in binding the captives in pairs, at him Esa sprang like the 
 young wild thing she was and viciously stabbed the long 
 spear point deep into his shoulder. 
 
 "Daughter of a pig? * Ishmael screamed, and raised his kris 
 to brain her. 
 
 But, instead, with a true pirate s greedy second thought,
 
 ESA S FIGHT FOR LIBERTY 
 
 his snaky blade clove the spear point and disarmed her, and 
 he growled : 
 
 "No! Can t afford to slit you, my little beauty! Your kind 
 is too popular in Datu Linta s harem to leave out here for 
 the bwtres to fatten on. It s to Datu Linta you go, and may 
 the alligators eat all his young if he is not generous to me for 
 bringing him such a prize." 
 
 When the Moros added the Monobo wounded to the Mono- 
 bo dead, as they soon added all hurt past trying to save them 
 for slavery, stark along the MalbuPs shore or scattered among 
 the trees that held their nests lay forty-four victims, mostly 
 warriors. 
 
 But for their victims the Moros paid. 
 
 Nine of the twenty-six pirates that made up his vinta crews 
 were already en route to whatever Celestial oasis holds their 
 Prophet, these chiefly the prey of the greedy little blow-gun 
 darts, and six others were nursing spear and arrow thrusts. 
 
 But what did this matter to the Datu? His swash-bucklers 
 he could not sell or trade to the Chinos, and plenty of them 
 remained to fill the vacancies in his vinta crews. 
 
 The dead had won him fourteen slaves, mostly young; not 
 such a bad enterprise after all ! 
 
 Nor from the ranks of IshmaePs survivors was there plaint 
 of their losses. 
 
 Was not the Datu their lord and master? 
 
 And had not their dead perished fighting the pigs of unbe 
 lievers, and so fairly won immortal happiness in the most 
 beautiful of Allah s Celestial Gardens? 
 
 What better could any honest Moro ask? 
 
 [65]
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 ALONE WITH THE DEAD AND THE VULTURES 
 
 Before the binding of the hands of the captives behind their 
 backs and leashing them together with vines, in groups for 
 transport in the vintas, Usup was on his legs, little the worse 
 of the shot that had stunned him, and he, Esa, Lancona and 
 old Dalagan were leashed together. 
 
 As for Tugan, alone of all the clan hidden in the family nest 
 in the tree tops when the Moros rushed Pugsan, crippled of 
 the wounds he had received in the fight with the boar, he was 
 overlooked, or rather under-looked, by the raiders. 
 
 But crippled though he was, brave Tugan had done his bit, 
 for the only two Moros that had come within range of his 
 blow-gun made a pair of the nine that did no paddling during 
 IshmaePs return voyage. 
 
 There were no lamentations or tears when Ishmael had his 
 captives bundled into the vintas, even from the children. 
 
 With savage stoicism, all accepted the situation in sullen 
 silence, all except Esa, who was still shivering of rage, and 
 who, as the vintas were pushed out into the stream, turned on 
 Ishmael and viciously spit at him. 
 
 "I ll come back, when when I like!" 
 
 "Ah, you think you will, you little beauty," Ishmael sav 
 agely growled; "well it won t be in a vinta; when you come 
 back it will be inside the belly of some alligator the Datu may 
 throw you to, if your temper don t get sweeter!" 
 
 "Better so than let your Datu make me do anything I don t 
 like," she hissed back at him. 
 
 And then the vintas, released to the grip of the MalbuPs 
 swift current, quickly drifted out of Tugan s sight, leaving 
 him alone among his dead clan-folk and the cloud of vultures 
 already assembled to feast upon them, but powerless to pro 
 tect them against the winged black horrors that haunt the 
 march of Moro marauders.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And so for two days lay Tugan, famishing up aloft, while 
 below the vultures gorged themselves to surfeit on what had 
 been his kith and kin. 
 
 A sight and situation to drive mad any but a savage ! 
 
 But with him his marooning until his clansmen returned 
 only served to intensify his hatred of his enemies and sharpen 
 his cunning. 
 
 And for long thereafter the youthful chief shifted the clan 
 daily, and, with a few of his young warriors, himself haunted 
 the Moro frontier seeking human targets for his blow-gun 
 darts, and there making himself such a scourge that shortly 
 many of the outer Moro plantations had to be abandoned. 
 
 It was a hard life, to be sure, that kept his people lean and 
 famished, but was he not evening scores and dodging all 
 claimants of tribute? 
 
 [68]
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 VAIN APPEALS TO BUSAU 
 
 While Saligan IshmaeFs vintas drifted down the Malbul, 
 thinking all dozing but the poperos whose paddles kept them 
 in the main current, Esa whispered to Usup: 
 
 "But, Usup, where are Munowog and his Limbings? Where 
 the terrible Busau? Surely you have invoked them." 
 
 "Yes, Esa, I have," poor old Usup replied. "Pm invoking 
 them now, especially Busau." 
 
 "But harder, Usup; do it harder; promise him daily offer 
 ings as long as we live if he will only come and pick these 
 Moros eyes out while the swine sleep. 
 
 "And Dewata! Pray him to stamp his foot and make the 
 earth tremble so that their vintas shall be overturned and we 
 may drag them down with us to feed the children of the fath 
 er of alligators. 
 
 "Harder, Usup! Harder!" 
 
 "Ah, Esa," Usup sadly murmured, "I can do no more and 
 I m beginning to fear that either Dewata is very angry at 
 Punungan and his people for not better guarding themselves 
 against our enemies and His, or else that the wonderful magic 
 of their Punditas has summoned the spirit of their Kabung- 
 suwan, or perhaps their Allah himself, to defend them against 
 our deities. 
 
 "Their magic is terrible, child; think of it. 
 
 "The magic that can give them boats big enough to hold a 
 village and weapons that roar like Dewata s voice and smoke 
 like Mt. Apo, may it not also suffice to withstand even Dewa 
 ta and Busau?" 
 
 "Pig of an unbeliever!" cried IshmaePs harsh voice, for all 
 the time he had been cunningly feigning sleep, "your Dewata 
 is as powerless against our Balbal as are your bows against 
 our guns and krises. 
 
 [69]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "And as for our A llab, praised be His name, He is the mightiest 
 of the mighty. 
 
 "Fortunate for you that you conceded His almighty su 
 premacy, for had you hinted otherwise I d toss you to the 
 Hungry Ones. You d not be such a loss that the Datu would 
 mind; in no slave mart of the coast would your old carcass 
 fetch more than a/anega of rice or perhaps a fighting chicken. 
 
 "But as for that little stinging viper alongside of you, ho! 
 ho! the Datu should be generous, for she will bring many 
 times her weight in rice and beeswax, corn and gutta, to say 
 nothing of fighting chickens and brass cuspidors, perhaps to 
 the value of as much as sixty pesos." 
 
 Upon hearing which, Esa ground her white teeth and whis 
 pered to herself: 
 
 "Ha, if Usup and his gods fail, always there is Lancona 
 and her herbs that make death come, quick or slow as she 
 likes. I must get from her while she sleeps some of the tiny 
 packets she always carries concealed in her waist cloth. With 
 Lancona s venoms I ll defy their God s magic." 
 
 "But tell me, pig," the old Saligan continued, "why was 
 your village so poor? My men could find no stores of food and 
 yet your fields should give you plenty." 
 
 "True, Moro," Usup answered, "plenty do they yield, but 
 when we don t send him half, Mambutu s warriors come and 
 leave us nothing. Go ask Mambutu why we are poor." 
 
 "Ask him," grinned Ishmael; "why pig, he ll be himself ask 
 ing quite soon enough what s become of his Monobo dogs of 
 Pugsan and perhaps be speaking to Datu Linta out of the 
 mouths of the thunder guns if he gets wind of my doings. 
 
 "But tell me, what has become of the other Monobos? I ve 
 ranged for days without hearing a voice or getting sight of a 
 village. Where have they drifted?" 
 
 "Ask the birds, Moro. How should I know, shut in our little 
 nook of the great forest? Ask the birds that know all the 
 most secret corners of the forest or the fish that cruise its 
 waters." 
 
 "Liar of an unbeliever!" shouted Ishmael; "you know your 
 
 [70]
 
 VAIN APPEALS TO BUSAU 
 
 forest and all that happens there better than the Datu knows 
 his rice fields. 
 
 "With your knotted vines and bent twigs, your signal fires 
 and drum beats, only Balbal knows more than you of what s 
 going on in the forest." 
 
 "Ask your Balbal, then, Moro, if he knows so much," brave 
 old Usup replied, and therefor received a cruel smash across 
 the face, with the flat of Ishmaers kris, that left his mouth 
 more nearly toothless than it had been and set Esa tugging 
 fruitlessly at her bonds. 
 
 Already the slowing of the river s current and the dwindling 
 of the hills told of near approach to the coastal plain. 
 
 They were nearing Mambutu s outpost, held by his hench 
 man Masulut. Him Ishmael must avoid, or be sure of pre 
 cipitating trouble with Mambutu. 
 
 So at the little rancheria of Tituan, occupied by a feudatory 
 of their master, Ishmael landed for the twelve mile march 
 through the forest to the town of Ganta, on the Degao River, 
 whence Datu Linta ruled. 
 
 But before beginning the march his dead bandits must be 
 disposed of. And there they were buried, each wrapped in 
 folds of the cleanest white linen, each snugly stowed beneath 
 planks whose bottom rested at one side of the body and upon 
 the bottom of each grave and were inclined against the op 
 posite side of the grave s top, and upon these planks the earth 
 was piled this weird manner of burial a legacy from their 
 pagan ancestors which the Mohammedan Punditas had never 
 managed to take from them. 
 
 For it is still a current belief among the Moros that Balbal 
 attacks all dead and tries to tear their hearts out, and so de 
 prive them of all hope of a future life in the Gardens of Allah. 
 
 Hence their practice to leave the dead free space wherein to 
 defend themselves against Balbal s attacks. 
 
 Indeed, the Balbal of the Moros, as also the Assoung of the 
 Filipinos, is virtually a full blood brother to the Monobo Bu- 
 sau, capable of assuming an infinite variety of hideous forms,
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 and to him all disasters and uncanny happenings are attrib 
 uted. 
 
 And so strongly do they still hold to shreds of their pagan 
 ism that the Mohammedan oath does not suffice them. Hence 
 all Moros swear "by the thirty chapters of the Koran, and if 
 I lie may the alligators eat my entrails or may my belly burst, 
 and may Balbal tear my heart out." 
 
 The prayers of the Pundita ended, IshmaePs little column 
 took up its march for Ganta. 
 
 The journey across the divide to the Degao River was with 
 out incident until, upon near approach to Ganta, Ishmael be 
 gan firing salvos that soon had all the villagers tumbling out 
 to meet the successful raiders. 
 
 And since a brief inspection was about all the labor and ex 
 citement Datu Linta could venture in one day, he ordered 
 that they be apportioned among the villagers, to be housed 
 and fed for the night, and be brought before him in the mid- 
 forenoon of the next day. 
 
 [72]
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 BLINKING SLAVERY AND POLYGAMY 
 
 From their seat on the top of the walls of the old stone fort, 
 Morine pointed out to the General the objects of interest in 
 the wide landscape. 
 
 Miles away to the west, the bright green of the marshlands 
 is bordered by the sapphire of Illana Bay. 
 
 To the north, nestling among those lofty ranges, lies Lake 
 Lanao, around whose borders dwell the most independent 
 and warlike of the Datus, desperate fighters, but as a rule, 
 like the majority of the Moros of the Rio Grande valley, in 
 dustrious, peaceful people when left alone. 
 
 There far in the east, now hidden in clouds but usually plainly 
 visible at dawn, towers Mt. Apo, the perpetually smoking 
 volcano, around whose foot and whose slopes the wild Mono- 
 bos make their tree-top homes. 
 
 And off in the south stands the great volcano Matutun, now 
 long dormant, that figures much in ancient Mindanao my 
 thology and history. 
 
 Yes, and right at their feet, pouring in and out with the 
 tides, is the swirling, turgid current of the Rio Grande, whose 
 great ten-mile-wide valley is probably second to none but 
 that of the Saigon in fertility and ease of irrigation, and 
 thronging in this valley is the densest Moro population the 
 island holds. 
 
 Presently the General began: "Morine, I want you in the 
 service." 
 
 "For what service, General?" asked Morine. 
 
 "As Secretary of this Province." 
 
 "I am sorry, General, but I cannot accept the post." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because as Secretary, General, I d be useless to you." 
 
 "Nonsense; man, you are the only timber available fit to fill 
 it. You know these people and have their confidence. You 
 
 [73]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 will come nearer controlling them by diplomacy than I can 
 with troops." 
 
 Perhaps I might, if I had freedom and authority to use my 
 own judgment. Make me governor, General, and I will try." 
 
 "But I can t do that, Morine; the governor of the province 
 must be an officer of the army, or rank at least as captain." 
 
 "Precisely; and there is just the trouble, General. Of what 
 value my knowledge and experience while subject always to 
 the well-intentioned but disastrous overruling of a superior 
 who is totally ignorant of the language, character and tradi 
 tion of the Moros?" 
 
 "Doubtless you are right, Morine, entirely right, but mean 
 time I m hobbled by the regulations. 
 
 "But, by Jove! I ll tell you what I ll do; I ll appoint Cap 
 tain Governor of the Province and you Secretary ; and 
 
 then, by ordering him to detached service, you as Secretary 
 will be left in undisputed authority over these beauties. How 
 will that do?" 
 
 "Magnifico, General. And you can count on me to do my 
 best." 
 
 "Right, Morine, and you can rely on my whole-hearted sup 
 port. Goodness knows your job is one the best man might fail 
 to draw credit from. I ll issue the necessary orders tonight." 
 
 "What do you desire to advise me as to policy, General?" 
 
 "Oh, policy? Simple enough, Morine, in theory, though 
 doubtless you ll find it hard enough to carry out in practice. 
 Extend our influence and control over these Sultans and Da- 
 tus as rapidly as possible, peacefully where you can, but ex 
 tend it. Of course, the Administration at Washington and 
 the home public in general will expect us to immediately 
 abolish slavery and polygamy. That s hitting them hard, but 
 it has got to be done." 
 
 "Perhaps, but not by me, General. Why, General, you 
 must know that slavery and polygamy are interknit with 
 their religion ; for both they regard themselves as holding Di 
 vine authority and sanction." 
 
 "Nonsense, Morine! But, yes, I dare say; these yellow men 
 
 [74]
 
 BLINKING SLAVERY AND POLYGAMY 
 
 flash up out of their alleged sacred scriptures full absolution 
 for all their pet vices." 
 
 "Ah, General, but their Koran is not so much younger than 
 our New Testament, and the one is quite as sacred to them 
 as is the other to us." 
 
 "To be sure; certainly. But all the same they must be made 
 to free their slaves and chuck their spare wives. No less than 
 that will our home folk tolerate. 
 
 "Blink at slavery and a plurality of wives in any territory 
 subject to the authority of Uncle Sam! Why, to do so would 
 be to throw the gaff into the Administration at the next 
 elections, to a certainty. We ve got to get busy right off the 
 bat and make good." 
 
 "Then, General, you may be sure the Administration is due 
 for a gaffing, unless you of the War Department pull the wool 
 over Administration eyes or the Administration can cozen 
 the public into believing it is accomplishing the impossible." 
 
 "That s a word we don t recognize in the War Department, 
 Morine impossible. Orders recognize no impossibilities." 
 
 "Pardon me, General, but permit me to assure you that you 
 are up against nothing less than the impossible here, when 
 you propose to abolish Moro slavery and polygamy." 
 
 "But surely we can issue decrees of abolition, make a bold 
 start and score some progress." 
 
 "Certainly, General; we can make a start, tomorrow, to 
 night, any time, and we can make progress, but I solemnly 
 assure you that every step of our progress will be over the 
 corpses of the Moros we have slain. 
 
 "Yes, General, and in time we can succeed whenever we 
 can manage to complete the virtual extermination of the 
 Moro race. Not a moment earlier, sir." 
 
 "Bad as that, is it, Morine?" 
 
 "Absolutely bad as that, sir; and of course you realize what 
 it means, the way it must be accepted by the world, as a Re 
 ligious War, Cross against Crescent ! And that don t fit well 
 into the general scheme of Twentieth Century Ideals, does 
 it?" 
 
 [75]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Not notably well, I must say, Morine. But what the devil 
 are we to dp? What can you suggest?" 
 
 "If the trick is to be done at all, sir, it must be through the 
 establishment among them of strictly nonsectarian schools 
 which shall convey no hint of seducing their young from the 
 religion of Islam, by relentlessly crushing the marauding ele 
 ment among them but interfering as little as possible in any 
 way with the industrious and peaceable. 
 
 "Thus, through much time, gradually but surely, the lessons 
 taught in our schools and the object lessons had from obser 
 vation of the superiority of our civilization may win them 
 over. * 
 
 "Education! Educate the Moros out of their slavery and 
 polygamy ! That means educate them to Christianity, a task 
 of generations." 
 
 "Just that. Educate them. And since nowhere in the world 
 has the propaganda of Christian missionaries made the least 
 headway against Mohammedanism, or the sword of the Cross 
 accomplished more than to drive into more remote isolation 
 the sons of the Prophet whom it has not exterminated, what 
 remains that may succeed but education?" 
 
 "Why, nothing, apparently, if you are right, as I dare say 
 you are. But just how would you proceed?" 
 
 "Deal with them with firmness, with the iron hand that 
 alone they will respect, but with justice and mercy, and ex 
 tend our schools. Begin by surprising, thrashing and hum 
 bling the pride of any Datus who question our authority, and 
 then hold them responsible for the peace of their districts. 
 Leave it to them to crush the marauders, among their neigh 
 bors as well as among themselves. And don t ask questions. 
 They will find means to efface any we tell them are superfluous 
 that we are best knowing nothing of." 
 
 "You mean 
 
 "Never mind what I mean, sir, please. I know my Moros. 
 Their ways are dark Oriental ways, but eminently practical. 
 They are great at short and easy cuts, but they get there 
 often without any actual physical cutting at all. Sabe?"
 
 BLINKING SLAVERY AND POLYGAMY 
 
 And then, without waiting for further comment by the Gen 
 eral, Morine continued, "And what of my staff, sir?" 
 
 "Why, Morine, for the present, at least, you ll have to be 
 your own staff, everybody from judge to clerk/ 
 
 "But, General, I understand that while the Administration 
 has decreed the suspension of military laws throughout the 
 Islands, it has not specifically directed the application of the 
 civil code in the Moro Provinces. Whatever am I to do for 
 law?" 
 
 "Well, since we ve got to leave these Moros their gospel, 
 why not deal with their malefactors according to their own 
 law for the present?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, that will do, with reservations. Sometimes the 
 Koran is merciless. I d hardly manage to get my own con 
 sent to decree the stoning to death of an adulteress." 
 
 "Hardly! But it s all up to you, for I have faith in your dis 
 cretion. But it s time for chow, my boy. Let s descend." 
 
 The return was made in silence. But as they were entering 
 the town the General laid his hand on Morine s shoulder 
 and remarked : 
 
 "Mr. Acting Governor, I m very much afraid you are right; 
 to save the Administration s face, it will have to be a case of 
 wool pulling or cozening." 
 
 [77]
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 BALBAL MASQUERADING AS A TEMPTRESS 
 
 Duly the next morning Ishmael conducted the captives to 
 the house of his chief and there paraded them for Datu Lin- 
 ta s inspection. 
 
 AH of them, old and young, male and female, were stripped 
 entirely naked, and each in turn the shrewd old dealer in nu- 
 man flesh examined in most minute detail, with all the cun 
 ning of the canniest dealer in horseflesh to detect alike all 
 merits and defects. 
 
 One by one, he opened their mouths to make sure their teeth 
 were sound, poked and pinched their bodies, carefully felt 
 and flexed the muscles of their arms and legs, studied their 
 feet. 
 
 Obscure indeed the blemish or the good point that could es 
 cape his detection. 
 
 And as he proceeded with his task, from time to time he dic 
 tated memoranda respecting each to the Kali, or judge, who 
 attended him. 
 
 Next, each was tested at running, swimming, load carrying, 
 canoe paddling, and the women and the elder girls were made 
 to try their deftness at the rude Moro looms for any such 
 as might prove so handy could be held for a higher price. 
 
 Esa, the hawk-eyed old voluptuary handled and considered 
 with obvious interest and satisfaction, evidently indisposed 
 to part with her. 
 
 But when, finally, after all tests were finished and Esa again 
 stood before him, streaming with sweat and heaving of breast 
 of the violent paddling and running she had been doing, but 
 teeth tight set, face hard and eyes burning with resentment, 
 the Datu turned to his Kali and remarked : 
 
 "Better the money she ll fetch than the girl; mark her for 
 sale with the rest. 
 
 [79]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "She s too much like Ina na Manuk s fighting chicken, Lan- 
 ang she ll fight till she s dead. 
 
 "Looks like she might be Balbal masquerading as a tempt 
 ress and, by the Prophet, a beauty, when she lets that alli 
 gator glare out of her eyes, hard to let go. 
 
 "But, mark me, Kali; who buys her pays for trouble!" 
 
 And then, turning to Ishmael, the Datu continued: 
 
 "Well done, old Saligan. For your reward, pick any of the 
 lot you like except this little one; I m thinking too much of 
 you to let you hazard your life trying to tame her." 
 
 "Thanks, mighty one," replied Ishmael with a grin; "it is 
 your wisdom that never fails, never failed and does not fail 
 now. It is she who, after the fight was over, gave me this stab 
 in the shoulder that has this left arm crippled." 
 
 "Oh ho! What did I say, Kali? What did I say? No woman 
 can ever fool Linta." 
 
 And then, again addressing Ishmael, the Datu added, "Take 
 them away, son. 
 
 "Quarter them where they shall be generously fed and fat 
 tened for the next Simbaum [their Sunday market, our Fri 
 day], and send messengers to all the neighboring Chino 
 traders and the rancherias that our next Ganta Simbaum will 
 include a rarely sound lot of slaves. 
 
 "Luckily, we ve nearly a week in which to cram their bellies 
 and put some tallow on their ribs." 
 
 And then, a heavy day s work, for him, finished, Datu Linta 
 summoned the bearer of his Buyo box, refreshed himself from 
 it s stimulating contents and withdrew to whatever of diver 
 sion or repose the temper of his harem women might permit. 
 
 The markets along the Rio Grande and its tributaries are 
 important sources of revenue to the Datus. 
 
 All offerers of wares, Chinos and natives alike, are taxed for 
 the privilege of using them. 
 
 For the more important traders, substantial market build 
 ings are provided, like all Moro houses raised on piles seven 
 to ten feet above the ground, well roofed with grass or the 
 leaves of the Nipa palm, and floored with bamboo, but other-
 
 BALBAL MASQUERADING AS A TEMPTRESS 
 
 wise open to free circulation of the air, while the vendors of 
 the produce of the rancherias squat beneath and around them. 
 
 To these markets come all the products of gardens, planta 
 tion and jungle and the wonderful importations of the Chi 
 nos, vegetables of all sorts, in which the valley is rich; rice, 
 coffee, gutta, beeswax, vejuca (the vines used as ropes and 
 cordage), hemp, eggs and chickens; carabaos, wild and broke 
 to the yoke; horses and goats; fighting chickens, with which 
 the Moros find the most popular of their diversions and make 
 the subject of their heaviest gambling; limes, lemons, durians, 
 managoes, bananas and cocoa-nuts; fish of many varieties; 
 alligators eggs and teeth, the former as much loved for their 
 flavor as the latter for their attraction as ornaments; native- 
 made weapons, pottery, mats, baskets, krises and campilans; 
 canoes, made from superb mahogany trunks; bamboo for 
 house and balsa (raft) construction, and the gorgeously color 
 ed and sumptuously soft silken maloongs woven in native 
 looms; calico prints from Massachusetts; linen from Ireland; 
 enamel and hardware from Germany; thread, needles, but 
 tons and trinkets from England; marvellous silks, delicious 
 teas, and the fascinating Black Poison that makes sleep come 
 from China. 
 
 Hundreds, often some thousands, throng in to these "Sun 
 day" markets, keen for their bargains, agog for their gossip 
 of up and down river news of raiding and slaving, of the bick 
 erings and the warrings of the Datus and the scandals of their 
 harems, all fetching their doughtiest fighting chickens and 
 madly gambling on them. 
 
 Ah! Infinite are the attractions of the Rio Grande Sim- 
 baums for the Moros. 
 
 And that of Ganta was among the greatest of them all. 
 
 For Linta was one of the most powerful of all the Datus, as 
 one of the few who had not fallen victim to the use of opium, 
 and hence maintained relative independence of the Chino 
 traders and more masterful control over his territory than 
 did most of his neighbors. 
 
 In his youth himself a reckless and ruthless raider, to him 
 
 [81]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 had flocked in large numbers the bolder and wilder spirits 
 from among the ranks of the more indolent and less enter 
 prising Datus. 
 
 All came in whom still surged hottest the pirate blood that 
 for centuries had made their forefathers the terror of the East 
 ern Seas and that ill disposed them for the peaceful pursuits 
 of agriculture. 
 
 Locally they were known as Maratuns, or Bad Men. 
 
 But, naturally tall of mental as well of physical stature, 
 broad of mind as of shoulders, strong of character as of hand, 
 Datu Linta had come to realize that larger and more certain 
 profits were to be won by peaceful agriculture than by slave 
 hunting and trading, and most largely concentrated his own 
 energies to that end. 
 
 This, of course, was little to the liking of the Maratuns; but 
 since, while he no longer led them or planned and directed 
 their raids, he never sought to restrain them otherwise than 
 by advice, tight henchmen of his they stuck, ever ready to do 
 his bidding. 
 
 However heavy their raiding hands might fall on any of the 
 territory of other Datus, his they always respected. 
 
 And hence it was that his fat lands were heavy with crops, 
 his Simbaums always thronged, and, what with the spoils 
 brought by his more immediate henchmen, like Ishmael, and 
 the offerings of the Maratuns, slaves were never lacking. Con 
 stantly, moreover, was his power extending, for any time 
 either his own subjects or those of neighboring Datus needed 
 a hammering, the Maratuns were ready to temporarily aban 
 don their favorite industry of cattle, horse and carabao steal 
 ing of their own initiative for the better opportunities offered 
 under warrant of his authority. 
 
 [82]
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 ON THE SLAVE BLOCK 
 
 The week intervening before Datu Linta s next Simbaum 
 was altogether the most luxurious most of his Monobo cap 
 tives were ever again to know. 
 
 They must be fattened to win high bidding, precisely as the 
 beasts that are the sleekest and heaviest sell highest for the 
 shambles. 
 
 All rich foods they could stow in their bellies, and so con 
 vert to fat and muscle, would be certain to fetch the Datu a 
 higher price than if offered raw from baskets. 
 
 And hence, since heavy feeding is an occupation that irks no 
 savage, and future anxieties dwindle with such of them as 
 have so heavily fed, the week passed happily enough with our 
 tree folk of Pugsan, the more for that they were free to drift 
 about the town at will, startled here and sobered there by 
 one or another of its wonders. 
 
 All weeks pass quickly, the happier the quickest, so to our 
 Monobos it must have seemed no time at all before Simbaum 
 day arrived and they were marched through the crowds that 
 thronged Ganta to the market place. 
 
 And a great crowd it was that had assembled. 
 
 For the three preceding days, long reaches of the Rio Grande, 
 the Degao and their tributaries had been a-clutter with vin 
 tas, packed with bright-habited folk. 
 
 The vintas were piled with produce and merchandise and 
 noisy with song and jest. 
 
 No roads that lead to Derby day could beat those Moro 
 waterways for kaleidoscopic variety and merriment. 
 
 Gaily they paddled and loudly sang. 
 
 And deafening to all and terrible to the Monobos were the 
 salvos fired from old Tower muskets as, one by one and in 
 groups, the vintas neared Ganta. 
 
 Thus by dawn of market day several hundred vintas lay
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 along the Degao sands, like long ranks of dozing alligators, 
 their crews and cargoes domiciled in the town. 
 
 And since wares must be freely exposed to stir desire for 
 them, it was quite in the gray dawn that Saligan Ishmael as 
 sembled his captives and drove them to the market, jostled 
 and familiarly handled along the way by intending buyers. 
 
 And once come to the market place, naturally the shrewd 
 old Saligan had prearranged for their conspicuous exhibition 
 in the favorite arena of the Moros, the Ganta cockpit, in whose 
 center, where their feathered gladiators were wont to do bat 
 tle, the Monobos were placed on a raised platform he had 
 built to receive them. 
 
 Once there, all were stripped stark naked. 
 
 And into the cockpit and around them surged the populace, 
 all afire with curiosity to see the new lot of wild ones and many 
 alert for bargains, the latter freely handling them from crown 
 to feet. 
 
 For slaves, like beasts, cost money, and no buyer of the halt 
 or crippled may profit. 
 
 Here a Moro who needed a field hand or waterman would be 
 testing the muscles of a man or lad, and there a Chino trader, 
 they the canniest buyers of the lot, would be turning a girl 
 around, pinching her breasts and looking at her teeth. 
 
 Thus the morning wearily dragged on for the dazed cap 
 tives until, about 10 o clock, it pleased Datu Linta to come, 
 in true Moro state, to the market place, attended by the Kali, 
 his sword, umbrella and Buyo box bearers and a picturesque 
 if not a goodly train of his feudatory chiefs. 
 
 Arrived there and lined up in the cockpit alongside of the 
 platform that held his offering of slaves, Linta s drums were 
 beaten and the throng massed closer. 
 
 The slave sale was on. 
 
 Firstthe Kali announced that the day s offering of slaves must 
 ever remain notable to all frequenters of the Ganta market. 
 
 Surely never in the past, and probably never again, would 
 it be their privilege to bid on such an exceptionally sound, 
 healthy lot.
 
 ON THE SLAVE BLOCK 
 
 Nearly all were young, both male and female. 
 
 And then the girls ! 
 
 Look at the young girls, several shortly marriageable! 
 
 Especially note this daughter of the Monobo Lukus! 
 
 A wild rose ! 
 
 The sweetest flower ever come to them out of the Mt. Apo 
 jungles. 
 
 A princess of her people ! 
 
 A prize to make the most miserly Datu cut the strings of his 
 money bags and give of their contents until he had parted 
 with her weight in pesos! 
 
 Weight? But was not her weight wonderful for a youngster? 
 
 Look at her swelling arms and legs not a river town could 
 boast their equal ! 
 
 Andherbreasts,roundandhardandsweetasyoungcocoanuts! 
 
 Ha! 
 
 If the Kali was not mistaken, here was a girl fit to make the 
 most fascinating harem favorite in all Mindanao quite outdo 
 herself to hold her precedence with her lord ! 
 
 As for terms, the Datu Linta would deign to accept payment 
 for purchases either in pesos (Mexican silver dollars), in horses, 
 carabaos or goats; in chickens, fighting or domestic, or in 
 brass cuspidors of the acknowledged good brands. 
 
 The Kali s boost of the Datu s wares and his announcement 
 of terms finished, one of Linta s old Saligans climbed upon 
 the platform, and the auction was on. 
 
 First he offered Usup. 
 
 But for his worn old carcass the bidding was anything but 
 spirited. 
 
 Think of it! 
 
 It was pathetic. 
 
 And he the most powerful of all his clansmen, the most 
 learned sa&to of his race, divinest player of the kuteehapee of 
 all their Lukus, past master in all the mysteries and magic of 
 their priestcraft, Dewatas very voice, through which alone 
 He spoke to the clansmen, widely experienced alike in the 
 magic of the Moros and the Paddies ! 
 
 [85]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But here to these bargainers in human flesh, brains, knowl 
 edge did not count even the value of the exhausted betel nut 
 they spat through their blackened teeth. 
 
 It was youth and health and strength they wanted, muscles 
 to charm or muscles that would propel canoes and carry heavy 
 loads. 
 
 But that s the way of the world, of a larger world than that 
 of the Moros, of all the world. 
 
 Sold cheap, when sold at all, ever are the old! 
 
 [86]
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 SOLD 
 
 So little is time money among the Moros that often will they 
 spend days dickering over the price of a chicken, and not a 
 fighting one at that. 
 
 But obviously hopeless must prove the task of trying to turn a 
 comparative decrepit like Usup into anything like real money. 
 
 So very shortly trie auctioneer knocked him down to Butu, 
 a rich planter and trader of Lamtag, one of Linta s villages 
 on the lower Degao, who loosened up to a reckless bid equal 
 to three dollars and twenty cents ! 
 
 One by one, the men and the boys were put up, the whining 
 voice of the old auctioneer wheedling as long as chance re 
 mained of getting more, and in turn they were sold, some of 
 the younger lads fetching handsome prices that materially 
 increased the Datu s mixed job lot of winged, hoofed and 
 coined assets. 
 
 Come to the women, Lancona was the first offering. 
 
 When, oh shame of shames, the wise Lancona, doubtless a 
 shrewder doctor than any the Moros could boast, still far 
 under forty and active as a youngster, fell cheap to Ina na 
 Manuk, the wife of the Butu who had bought Usup. 
 
 A pittance in cuspidors she brought that totaled value scarcely 
 double that paid for him ! 
 
 Others were put up, and on wearily the slave auction drag 
 ged; as for the women there was far keener competition, and 
 competition was the hint to the auctioneer to tirelessly con 
 tinue his alternate wheedlings of his audience and praisings 
 of his wares. 
 
 Last of all came Esa, his piece de resistance, the prize pack 
 age of the bag of slaves. 
 
 Gingerly the bidding started. 
 
 In terms of chickens, and in terms of humble egg layers at 
 that! 
 
 [87]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And yet it had been apparent that half a dozen Chino trad 
 ers, the accredited buyers of two neighboring Datus and a 
 number of others of the richer Moros, were coveting her and 
 certain not to let her go at any small figure. 
 
 But no bargains fall to brash bidders. 
 
 And who knows that better than those who have trained 
 themselves to fatten off the slave markets? 
 
 Gingerly the bidding started. 
 
 But steadily it rose from chickens to cuspidors, to beasts, 
 and finally to money, real money, to bright, silver pesos. 
 
 And Datu Linta hugged himself with satisfaction. 
 
 Meantime the yellow men and the brown quarreled bitterly. 
 
 Each claimed to be the namer of each step of advance in the 
 bidding. 
 
 And the auctioneer shrewdly settled all disputes by recog 
 nizing as the real raiser of a bid one most likely to remember 
 and compensate the service when the sale was finished. 
 
 Nor was bidding limited to the men. 
 
 Ina na Manuk, wife of Butu, a lady not only of quality but 
 of rare distinction throughout southern Mindanao, as will 
 shortly appear, showed signs of having entered the competi 
 tion to stay, certainly for a tight finish with the best of them, 
 perhaps to a win. 
 
 Indeed, her eagerness seemed to be bordering so close on 
 recklessness, that at length Butu drew near and whispered: 
 
 "But Ina, in the name of the Prophet, what can you be think 
 ing of? 
 
 "You re as crazy as a wounded carabao hunting it s hunter. 
 
 "We can t afford to bid against the agents of the Datus and 
 those Chinos, for they reach better markets than can we. 
 
 "You ve already bid her past any price at which we could 
 hope to profit." 
 
 "Oh, have I," Ina na Manuk answered, "Well, if I ve got to 
 go farther to get her, I ve only just started. 
 
 "That s a rare one, and no matter what I pay for her, she 
 shall bring us more profit than you make in a six month off 
 your tienaa. 
 
 [88]
 
 SOLD 
 
 "Before I m done with her, I ll make our Datu, the great 
 Linta himself, want her so badly that he shall pay me several 
 times any price I now pay him." 
 
 Still, Ina knew her way about auctions, as about most other 
 forms of trafficking, and was always careful not to press the 
 pace needlessly, bidding seldom, only when the last bid hung 
 uncontested dangerously long. 
 
 Slower grew the bidding and longer the auctioneer s wheedles. 
 
 One and another dropped out, as their respective limits were 
 reached and passed, until finally only Ina and a Chino trader 
 remained in the running. 
 
 The Chino s yellow cheeks were paled to gray putty hue of 
 the excitement of the contest. 
 
 At length he mustered nerve to raise Ina s last bid to ninety 
 pesos. 
 
 Ina, confident her time was come, instantly countered with 
 a level hundred, plus Lanang, her favorite fighting chicken, 
 the champion winged gladiator of all the Moro cockpits, 
 victor over all the doughtiest ever brought against him, en 
 vied of all and previously held priceless by Ina na Manuk 
 herself. 
 
 At this the Chino turned away, angrily emitting a string of 
 heathen oaths that, fortunately, none of the faithful under 
 stood. 
 
 Esa was sold. 
 
 And as Butu and Ina na Manuk led away their three pur 
 chases, Esa, Lancona and Usup, certain it was that every last 
 Moro of the throng was firmly convinced that poor Butu had 
 a crazy wife on his hands. 
 
 For could not Lanang be relied on to earn for the Datu 
 more than the cost of the two fairest favorites of his harem ! 
 
 Still, Ina was a lady so notable for knowing her way about 
 that the Kali was prompted to whisper to Datu Linta: 
 
 "By the Prophet, O mighty one, either Ina na Manuk is be 
 witched by Balbal or else, which I m fearing is far more likely, 
 something has taken the fight out of Lanang. 
 
 [89]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And yet he was wrong, was the wise Kali. 
 
 In both respects. 
 
 He, along with all the others, had simply underweighed Ina 
 na Manuk s faith in her judgment and her insatiable procliv 
 ity for gambling! 
 
 [90]
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 TONY TRIGG 
 
 The Commanding General made no mistake in his faith in 
 Morine. No more was he gone than the new Governor began 
 sending out spies, chiefly one sort of trader or another. He 
 must know the doings among the Datus, for, friendly as most 
 of them were to him, there were few whose word he could trust. 
 And all were such past masters in dissimulation that every 
 thing they told him must be checked. 
 
 Shortly his agents brought him word that Linta and Tele- 
 coco were busy making powder and strengthening their forts. 
 
 But it was no surprise to him when, shortly thereafter, these 
 two worthies appeared in state at his headquarters with warm 
 est protestations of friendship, and calling him Lusud-Satyan, 
 brother of the same belly. 
 
 Then, seated on their mats before him, mouths charged 
 with betel-nut and cuspidors handy, the mental fence be 
 gan, on their part chiefly designed to learn his purposes and 
 what he knew of happenings at their rancherias. 
 
 But notwithstanding there lay on his table full plans of the 
 forts they were strengthening and memoranda of the men 
 and arms each had available to hold them, Morine received 
 them with every show of friendship and confidence. And to 
 them he talked frankly. 
 
 Their authority and religion? Both should be respected. 
 But they must maintain peace and order in their respective 
 districts, stop all marauding, even against the hill tribes. 
 
 Their slaves and wives? Well, the Mergans deplored both 
 practices, but, since they were a part of the Moro religion, 
 would not interfere with them. 
 
 Taxes? Oh, the Mergans were rich and had no need to 
 squeeze the people. Perhaps there may be some small levies 
 to improve the health of the Datus own towns and build
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 schools, but none they need worry about, and all funds so 
 raised would be spent for their benefit. 
 
 The schools? Ah, he should explain that it was the custom 
 of the Mergans to educate all their people, to teach them to 
 read and write, so that their knowledge may be extended by 
 study. 
 
 But the slaves, the Datus interrupted; surely it was not 
 proposed to teach slaves? 
 
 Ah, yes; the Mergans made no exception. All would be 
 expected to go to the schools, children of the Chinos and of 
 slaves as well as those of the Moros and their Datus and Kalis. 
 
 And right here, by the suspicious glances they exchanged, 
 the shrewd Governor realized that he confronted a check, at 
 the very outset, of the one single step he contemplated to 
 ward their uplift and ultimate control. 
 
 They doubted his motives. 
 
 Either he was planning to seduce their children away from 
 the religion of their fathers or else, and that seemed to them 
 a certainty, he was scheming through his schools to implant 
 in their slaves the seed of revolt ! 
 
 But of his knowledge of the line of their reasoning the Gov 
 ernor gave no hint. Too well he knew that argument with 
 them would be useless. They must be disciplined a bit, and 
 humbled. Then the going with them would be perhaps not 
 easy, but certainly less hard. 
 
 So ultimately the conference ended with mutual protesta 
 tions of the warmest friendship, notwithstanding the Datus 
 were fully resolved to fight his school scheme to a finish and 
 Morine s mind was made up to give them a sound drubbing 
 just as soon as he could conveniently arrange it. 
 
 And then the Datus took to their vintas and were soon lost 
 in the pearly haze that shrouds tropical rivers and fields. 
 
 That night, Morine sat late in conference with the captain 
 commanding the Cotabato Constabulary, occupied with 
 plans unlikely to pleasure either Telecoco or Linta. 
 
 An abler aide or fitter mate the Governor could scarcely 
 have had. 
 
 [92]
 
 TONY TRIGG 
 
 Indeed, they were much of the same kidney, in many re 
 spects. 
 
 The main difference between them was that Constabulary 
 Captain Tony Trigg was always perfectly content to take his 
 world as he found it, so long as there was enough doing to 
 keep his guns from rusting. 
 
 Degenerate or regenerate, any old neck of the world s woods 
 was good enough for him that offered plenty of opportunities 
 to put up a man s fight. 
 
 By preference, Captain Tony opened all arguments with 
 powder and finished them with steel. 
 
 Few of the pearls of his wisdom were ever in evidence, ex 
 cept such as issued from the muzzle of his .45 when he thought 
 they were needed. 
 
 And yet it would be an error to assume that Captain Trigg 
 was bloodthirsty. 
 
 Nothing of the sort. 
 
 No such auburn-curled, laughing-eyed, rollicky stalwart 
 as he could belong in such reprehensible category. 
 
 It was simply that well, where there needs must be fight 
 ing, he just loved to get into it, that was all. 
 
 And of fighting he had certainly seen a lot, for a youngster 
 of little more than thirty, under several flags, and some, his 
 mates had gotten hints, perhaps under no flag at all. 
 
 Which was about all his closest intimates knew of him. But 
 what mattered where one had for mate such a glutton for 
 hardships and hazards, to whom the toughest campaigning 
 and most desperate battling were the frolics he best loved! 
 Especially when no worn friend of his could stumble under 
 any burden Trigg could contrive to shift to his own shoulders, 
 the heavier the burden the gayer his jests! 
 
 When, after few interruptions from Captain Tony, the Gov 
 ernor had finished detailing his plan for the surprise of the 
 Datus, for some time the former sat silent, smiling and slowly 
 nodding his curly head. Finally, the Governor asked: 
 ^Well, Captain?" 
 "Why, d n it, Morine pardon, sir, I mean Governor, I " 
 
 [93]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Oh, hell! Tony, cut out the official frills when we re by our 
 selves," Morine broke in. 
 
 "Sure, if you say so, Joe. Why, I was about to remark that 
 you re a Christmas present to me." 
 
 "How so? What do you mean?" 
 
 "I mean as a K. O.; as a commanding officer you re a rosy 
 peach. Sure to be something doing for Tony right along. 
 Never hoped for any such luck. Thought the General would 
 plunk into this billet some lazy, rummy pot that needs an I. 
 C. branded on his rump and orders to right-about out of the 
 service." 
 
 Instantly Mprine s eyes hardened in a way that drove the 
 smile from Trigg s face, and he slowly remarked : 
 
 "Don t you be too d d sure, Tony. If left to my way, there ll 
 be little fighting in this Province." 
 
 "No fighting, man! Why, it s the only diet Moro stomachs 
 can digest, is fighting. They re hungry for it, and it s up to us 
 to feed em what they want, ain t it?" 
 
 And when Morine s only answer was a grave shake of the 
 head, Trigg persisted: 
 
 "But why little fighting?" 
 
 "Why?" Morine replied, in almost a whisper; "why, Tony? 
 Because fighting Moros is little short of murder. To be sure 
 they re superb battlers; got to kill em to stop em." 
 
 "But how murder then, man?" 
 
 "That s just the trouble, Tony; they ve got the nerve to 
 make them a terrible enemy against the best troops in the 
 world, but they lack the arms. Of what avail their krises and 
 campilan blades against our Springfields and machine guns? 
 None, only they don t know it, at least won t know it to 
 start with, and after they ve learned won t care. That s the 
 hell of it ! Shooting down brave men like that is no fit work 
 for you or me, Tony." 
 
 "By God, but you re right. Never thought of it just that 
 way before." 
 
 "Sure, I m right. Of course an officer untrained to bush fight 
 ing can easily get his entire command slit to ribbons by these 
 
 [94]
 
 TONY TRIGG 
 
 beauties; but, bar a few slashes now and then from one of 
 their mad rushes out of ambush, for the command of an of 
 ficer with the experience you or I have had, they re easy as 
 grouse, no?" 
 
 "It would sure be our own fault if our men ever got cut up 
 much. Only I m thinking most of the boys would take grouse 
 for preference or Zulus, or even Japs. A mad Moro swing 
 ing a flamy kris or a great two-handed meat axe of a campilan 
 is a little the unprettiest thing in the way of two-legged game 
 I know of. For you never can tell when they won t get to you, 
 and once come hand to hand you ll admit all the advantage 
 is theirs. That s what makes me love em." 
 
 "Yes, yes, Tony; hand to hand, they ve the best of it, and 
 I ll admit they re the grandest stalking on earth; don t dare 
 drop your guard a second when out among hostile Moros, but 
 good God, what show have they against us? None, just 
 none, Tony." 
 
 "What s your game, then?" 
 
 "Jolt a few of them and see if I can t bluff them into doing 
 our policing and battling for us." 
 
 "Well, I ll be d d! That sounds like a long gamble. And 
 their slavery and bunches of wives?" 
 
 "Blink all that and see if we can t get an under hold on them 
 through our schools." 
 
 And when, shortly, Capt. Trigg was stumbling through the 
 darkness to his quarters, he growled : 
 
 "Well, Tony, you re going! going! gone! to a d d school 
 master! Sold; just d d well sold! 
 
 [95]
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 SLAVE TO MOTHER OF CHICKENS 
 
 Esa, Lancona and Usup were most fortunate in the master 
 and mistress to whom they passed from Datu Linta s slave 
 block. 
 
 Butu and Ina na Manuk were among the most enlightened 
 and humane of all the Moros. 
 
 This statement may sound paradoxical when we have to ad 
 mit that they were two of the most conspicuous devotees of 
 cock fighting in all Mindanao. 
 
 Still it is true. 
 
 Yet Ina na Manuk was so madly addicted to the sport and 
 such a reckless gambler at it that Butu, rich as he was of his 
 farming and trading, was never free from anxiety she might 
 not one day reduce the family to poverty, and was ever pleading 
 with her to use more of the same prudence he did in staking 
 against strange winged champions. 
 
 But to no purpose. 
 
 The love of the game and indulgence in its excitement was 
 ingrained into her from childhood. 
 
 She was daughter of a Sultan and Pundita whose territory 
 included a goodly area of the fertile shores of Lake Gusan. 
 
 Her father and mother were passionately fond of cock fight 
 ing. 
 
 And she herself was yet a child when christened from nothing 
 less than the mad devotion for the game she early manifested. 
 
 Thus it happened that, while by custom no Moro father or 
 mother bears other name than that of their first-born, as 
 "Ana na John," Father of John, or "Ina na John," Mother of 
 John, throughout her life Butu s wife continued to wear the 
 name given her in childhood, Ina na Manuk Mother of 
 Chickens ! 
 
 Worthy daughter of her learned father, the Sultan and Pun- 
 
 [97]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 dita of Lake Gusan, Ina was one of the very few Moro women 
 of broad education. 
 
 So learned was she in the Koran that she could expound it 
 with the wisest Punditas of them all. 
 
 Thus she exercised great influence without as well as within 
 her own household, the more for that by disposition as well 
 as by training she was deeply religious and an ardent propa 
 gandist of the Prophet. 
 
 Naturally, with such a woman, her household held no rivals. 
 
 Butu, whatever his inclination, must content himself with 
 what she could give him. 
 
 Thus, when our tree-top friends were brought among them, 
 the family was limited to the good pair of them, their seven 
 children, a few pagan slaves and their chickens. 
 
 And there, due chiefly to Esa s clever diplomacy the bond 
 age of the three was of the lightest and gentlest. 
 
 Lancona was employed in simple domestic tasks, Usup in 
 voyaging with Butu on trading expeditions in his vinta or 
 pottering at easy jobs around his tienda. 
 
 As for Esa, from the first Ina na Manuk had taken a great 
 fancy to her. 
 
 This led her to do even more for Esa than was necessary to 
 the carrying out of the plans to profit by her that she, a quick 
 opportunist, had formed at first glimpse of her on the Ganta 
 slave block. 
 
 Perceiving her to possess rare intelligence for a pagan, rare, 
 indeed, among the Moro girls, the attachment she formed for 
 her soon was followed by an ardent desire to convert her to 
 the faith of Islam. 
 
 Hence it was she kept Esa constantly by her side and treat 
 ed her more as daughter than as slave. 
 
 Nor had Usup s lessons been in vain. 
 
 Out of much teaching always must come wisdom, so the 
 pupil is not a hopeless dullard. 
 
 And the eager mind of Esa had missed nothing she was able 
 to retain out of the mountains of knowledge through which 
 Usup had led her. 
 
 [98]
 
 SLAVE TO MOTHER OF CHICKENS 
 
 And happily for her she had not forgotten his hint of how 
 much easier his life had become among the Paddies after he 
 had been successful in misleading them into conviction that 
 they had him converted to their faith. 
 
 Then, besides, her week in Ganta, while waiting to be offered 
 in Linta s Simbaum, had brought her some new object les 
 sons. 
 
 It had given her time to form the wise conclusion that, bit 
 terly as she resented her captivity, and wildly as she longed 
 to regain her liberty among the nodding tree tops that line 
 the Malbul, nevertheless she must be patient and study her 
 masters before she could hope to outwit them. 
 
 Thus would she make her days easier in the land of her cap 
 tivity and the sooner prepare herself to regain the freedom 
 she loved. 
 
 So to Ina na Manuk s great delight she found her not only a 
 willing but an eager pupil. 
 
 But when, early in her captivity at Lamtag, Ina said to her: 
 
 "Ah, you shrewd little unbeliever, you must be converted 
 to the true faith; do you not desire it?" Esa feigned ignorance 
 and innocently answered : 
 
 "But, wise one, Dewata well suffices us. To us our faith in 
 him is true. But would you that I should change it for yours?" 
 
 "Would I, child?" answered Ina; "I would that all should 
 own our Allah. 
 
 "Allah alone is great. 
 
 "He alone is all sufficing. 
 
 "He alone can give light in darkness, He alone give rest in 
 pain, He alone can admit us to life everlasting. 
 
 "Listen, girl, listen," and her tones grew eager; "accept Him 
 and heed me and I will make you great and powerful, even 
 as I am. 
 
 "I will teach you my learning, pass you the mantle of my 
 wisdom, make you one day as supreme in some Datu s house 
 hold, be his harem favorites what they may, as I am in Butu s." 
 
 "It is well, wise one, it shall be as you say," Esa replied; 
 "you shall not find me unheedful," but adding under her 
 
 [99]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 breath, "until my wings are strong and I can fly as I like!" 
 
 Day by day her training proceeded, but less trying, more 
 varied than the droning lectures of Usup, with whom there 
 was nothing to do but just to listen. 
 
 With Ina, on the contrary, there were no end of things to do, 
 most puzzling but all interesting. 
 
 First, there was the learning to read and to write, the magic 
 by which the Moros cover white sheets with marks that look 
 like the sand where many chickens have fed, by which they 
 convey messages and preserve their laws and history. 
 
 Ah, but that was hard work, learning to read and write, 
 shut in the house, bent over the puzzling sheets, trying to re 
 member and copy the weird marks thickly sown over them. 
 
 But to Esa, this was their greatest magic. 
 
 Only those who practiced it were the powerful of the land, 
 so to it she stuck patiently. 
 
 And once tolerably adept at reading, then came the Koran, 
 that endless Koran, and its interminable passages she must 
 memorize and the prayers she must learn to chant. 
 
 [100]
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE COMING OF THE MERGANS 
 
 Little by little, day by day, month by month, Esa s educa 
 tion by Ina na Manuk proceeded, even to the picking up of 
 much Spanish from her father and the Chinos. Her progress 
 was rapid, so rapid that Ina na Manuk never regretted hav 
 ing parted with Lanang to get her. 
 
 Indeed, she became perhaps more fond of her than of any of 
 her own children. 
 
 But while herself become, outwardly, a Moro in appear 
 ance and practice, conforming to Moro customs and scrupu 
 lously observing all the precepts of Islam as religiously as the 
 most devout of her captors, Esa yet loved none but her Mon- 
 obo people and feared none but their gods. 
 
 Yet all this she was as careful to conceal as that deep in her 
 heart blazed anything but fondness even for Ina. 
 
 Of Ina she was always gently tolerant, however, for she ap 
 preciated her kindness and valued the wisdom taught her 
 and was hungry for more. 
 
 But Moro character and practice did not appeal to her as 
 anything but inferior, in all respects, to that of the Monobos. 
 
 And in this view she was doubtless strengthened by Lan- 
 cona and Usup, both of whom were kept occupied at their 
 tasks and never admitted to any of the advantages she en 
 joyed. 
 
 Of her father she was very fond, and with him passed all her 
 spare time when he was not voyaging with Butu. 
 
 As for Usup, while very proud of her, especially of her ac 
 quired ability to read and write, to him the highest form of 
 magic, never did he tire trilling the dearly loved kuteehapee 
 they had managed to retain and keeping alive in her mind 
 the Monobo lore and mysteries. 
 
 Great was she as a Moro girl, greater than any of their very 
 own, but her best destiny lay with her clan. 
 
 [101]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 That Esa must never forget. 
 
 Punungan was dead. 
 
 Tugan was young and untried. 
 
 Was not the chieftainship of the clan hers for the asking? 
 
 But much less than all his time did she now permit him to so 
 occupy. 
 
 For her keen, questing mind was always greedy of news of 
 the many markets Usup visited, of their doings and gossip, 
 with which he returned loaded. 
 
 Especially now, for a new enemy was abroad in the land and 
 the talk of the river from the mountains to the sea, the terri 
 ble Mergans! 
 
 A race of blue-eyed, blond giants, they were said to be, who 
 dwarfed even the lustiest Paddies. 
 
 Already they had invaded the northern coast of the island. 
 
 Before the superior valor and arms of the Mergans, the 
 warriors of the Paddies were powerless as are the trees to 
 withstand the tempest. 
 
 Of these Mergans little Esa was yet to see more and learn 
 much, but, of course, she had no inkling of the bliss and trag 
 edy their coming was yet to bring into her life. 
 
 Of the Mergans one evening Usup told her. "Child, these 
 Mergans must have more wonderful magic than the Moros 
 or the Paddies, but what it is no one yet knows. 
 
 "Among the Moros they come in big, armed bodies, carry 
 ing smoking weapons that kill as far as one can see, but they 
 hurt no one, take nothing. They ask many, many questions 
 about the people, their arms and their products, and are al 
 ways writing in their books. Any chickens, rice or other food 
 they want, they take, but they pay for it in red cloth, beads, 
 brassware, or looking glasses." 
 
 "But have you seen nothing of their magic, father, or had 
 hint of what it is like?" 
 
 "No, not a word; but the Chinos say that people like them 
 came to their country nearly forty years ago with smooth 
 words and big promises of opening their country to trade and 
 improve their condition. 
 
 [102]
 
 THE COMING OF THE MERGANS 
 
 "But the people like the Mergans who so came among the 
 Chinos had deceit in their hearts and lies on their tongues, for 
 they brought the Chinos the Black Poison that makes sleep 
 come, which they call opium; and when, in fear of it, the 
 Chinos refused to accept it, then the white men made war on 
 them and killed so many of their people that finally they had 
 to accept it." 
 
 "Ah," said Esa, "but that Black Poison itself is wonderful 
 magic. The Chino traders who sell it to the Datus get rich 
 very fast. The Datus are so crazy for it, they pay any price 
 the Chinos ask, in carabaos, gutta, women or other slaves. 
 Surely these Mergans must bring the same magic or some 
 thing more powerful." 
 
 "Well, that is more than I know, but I hear that never do 
 white men come into the country of black or yellow men ex 
 cept to rob them of their lands and their labor." 
 
 During his travels, Usup had met and become much culti 
 vated by an old Chino trader named Wa-Tu, one of the rich 
 est and wisest of his people in the island. 
 
 Wa-Tu had been one of the keenest competitors for the pur 
 chase of Esa at the Ganta market. 
 
 And the sly old Chino had no more lost interest in the girl 
 than he had been slow to realize the information of trade op 
 portunities in the interior to be gained from Usup. 
 
 To be sure, Wa-Tu was sixty, and sported a spare wife for 
 not a few of his years, but still not so many he could not well 
 afford more. 
 
 But while Wa-Tu was wise in the doings and ways of the 
 world, his brother and inseparable, Go-Peng, far surpassed 
 him, for Go-Peng was a scholar who had travelled widely and 
 made himself a close student of the history and customs of all 
 races. By the Moros his advice on both domestic and foreign 
 politics was highly valued and often sought by the Datus, 
 and far better would it have been for them if they had more 
 closely followed it. 
 
 [103]
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 CHINO PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Frequent were the visits of Wa-Tu and Go-Peng at Butu s 
 village since Esa s coming, on any pretext, or on no pretext 
 at all, and longer grew their stays. 
 
 But one day they arrived on a very definite and important 
 mission, no less than a summons to a conference there with 
 the leading Datus of the Rio Grande valley. 
 
 The Datus were worried and puzzled. 
 
 Their policy toward those terrible Mergans must be de 
 termined. 
 
 How could they resist a people who had swept the colossal 
 smoking war boats of the Paddies from the seas, captured 
 Manila and dominated Luzon? 
 
 Already had they established themselves at Cagyan, at 
 Zamboanga and Cotabato. 
 
 To be sure, unresisted, they were pacific, but still their pur 
 pose in coming had not developed. 
 
 Could it be anything less than hostile in one way or another 
 to Datu dominion? 
 
 Could it be long before they were seeking to squeeze them 
 greedily as had the Paddies? 
 
 All this they must learn and determine how to treat, for 
 plainly the Mergans would prove infinitely harder to deal 
 with than were the Paddies. 
 
 And it was in this dilemma they had summoned Go-Peng. 
 
 Thus it was a large gathering of the lords of the land that 
 squatted on their mats in Butu s council room, gaily be-tur- 
 baned, richly be-krised, all keyed to their keenest by extra 
 heavy use of the stimulating contents of their Buyo boxes, to 
 listen to wise old Go-Peng. 
 
 After much rambling discourse among themselves, from 
 which it appeared the opinion was general that the Mergans 
 
 [105]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 could only be come as came the Spaniards, to subjugate and 
 tax them, Datu Linta asked Go-Peng: 
 
 "But, tell us, Go- Peng, are not these Mergans of the same 
 white race that you have told us forced upon your people the 
 Black Poison and tried to steal your country?" 
 
 "No," answered Go-Peng; "they are a different people, have 
 different laws and are in all ways far superior to the European 
 whites who ruthlessly wronged China. 
 
 "In nothing is the government of those Europeans materi 
 ally different from your own. 
 
 "There, as here, there are three classes: 
 
 "The ruling class that corresponds to your Sultans, Rajas 
 and Datus. 
 
 "The trading, commercial and land owning class their chiefs 
 are forced to tolerate as the bulwark of their system, these 
 both of very limited numbers. 
 
 "And last the poor, that make up the vast majority of their 
 subjects, whose privileges so nearly begin and end with the 
 right to live and to exhaust their energies for the enrichment 
 of their masters that they are a little better off than are your 
 Monobo slaves. 
 
 "As for their middle class, its richer traders and traffickers 
 furnish money and leaders for their rulers wars, precisely as 
 do the more prosperous of your planters, and with one sort of 
 spoils or another they are kept playing their masters game 
 just as you share the loot of their raids with your henchmen 
 whose blood has won it." 
 
 "But do not their middle and low class know rest and diver 
 sion between their wars and after harvests are made, as do 
 ours?" Datu Mambutu interrupted. 
 
 "Diversion, yes, in a measure; but never do those Europeans 
 know rest, never are they free of the weight of the yoke." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "First, because their wars are so frequent or the dread that 
 new wars will break out is so great, that all but the older sub 
 jects of each government are kept constantly trained in war- 
 
 [1*6] 
 
 v
 
 CHINO PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fare and organized into vast armies, ready at a moment s 
 notice to take the field against their enemies. 
 
 "Thus all Europe is a string of vast armed camps, in which 
 millions of men are serving, largely withdrawn from every 
 type of productive labor, all at such frightful cost that each 
 of the European governments is staggering under burdens of 
 debt that run into more millions than there are alligators in 
 the Rio Grande." 
 
 "But have they no wealth, no property, those rulers or gov 
 ernments?" queried Linta. 
 
 "Not a centavo" Go-Peng answered, "except what they 
 squeeze in taxes from the trading, trafficking, farming and 
 laboring classes. 
 
 "The wretched masses must pay for the privilege of being 
 misgoverned by the ruling class that fattens and grows rich 
 at their expense. 
 
 "And it is because the masses are kept drained dry to the 
 near border of revolt that the vast mountains of debt of 
 which I have told you have been piled up." 
 
 "But tell me, Sabio" Butu asked, "who will lend to such 
 mad improvidents? Who is crazy enough to trust them?" 
 
 "Their own deluded subjects, to be sure, in whom has been 
 ingrained the illusion that the obligations of their rulers and 
 their governments are sacred, as sacred as is their own duty 
 to sweat for them. 
 
 "Thus, through loans, enormous sums of the gains of the 
 masses not absorbed by taxation are drained into adminis 
 trative coffers, to be squandered in mad administrative ex 
 travagances. 
 
 "And this notwithstanding every last one of those European 
 governments is, technically, and actually, a bankrupt, in the 
 sense and to the extent that they are unable to liquidate 
 their maturing debts out of their own available resources, 
 and only escape the disgrace of downright default to their 
 creditors by new borrowings that year by year pile higher 
 the loads of debt that one day must crush them to ruin and 
 plunge them into unthinkable chaos." 
 
 [107]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And then, after sitting for a time silent, apparently absorb 
 ed in the terrible picture he had drawn, Go- Peng resumed : 
 
 "The second reason they know no rest is that their life is 
 even far more complex than is ours in China. 
 
 "Those white races of Europe are by nature self-indulgent, 
 great lovers of luxury, always ready to pay dear for anything 
 new that can add to their comfort or pleasure. 
 
 "And since many of their middle and lower classes are pos 
 sessed of extraordinary ingenuity in devising new things to 
 please and tempt, their land is covered everywhere with 
 great workshops where labor never ceases night or day, and 
 where their workers in metals and fabrics produce such mir 
 acles of beauty or convenience that there is no end to the de 
 mand for them. 
 
 "Were they content to live more as we do, limiting their 
 labor to the production of such food, shelter and clothing as 
 ordinary comfort demands, their problems would be simple 
 as are ours. 
 
 "But all that makes for increase in the complexity of their 
 lives they boast as an advance in civilization; a misconcep 
 tion they take pride in, notwithstanding, obviously, every 
 step of such advance only enslaves them to new wants and 
 condemns them to new and harder labor, or bows them down 
 under new disappointments. 
 
 "Civilization, according to the white man s conception 
 and practice of it, Datus, is day by day welding chains of 
 actual slavery tighter and tighter upon the white race, from 
 the highest to the lowest. 
 
 "And it is a slavery beside which that of your pagans is 
 benign, that worst bondage of all any creature may suffer, 
 slavery to one s own unsatisfied wants, exclusion from the 
 ranks of those who have what he has not. 
 
 "Better a sweating pagan staggering under a heavy load 
 than a Tree* white man taught to contract tastes and desires 
 he lacks ability to gratify." 
 
 "But, Sabio, all who owe one day must pay are made to 
 whether they want to or not," broke in Datu Telecoco, the 
 
 [108]
 
 CHINO PHILOSOPHY 
 
 feared, who, they say, can talk to alligators and slip around of 
 nights silently as a vampire and suck the blood of his enemies, 
 "what is the magic of those white rulers, and how long can 
 they go on doing that beautiful double squeeze of their peo 
 ple, first taxing them and then borrowing from them? 
 
 "I d like to know that magic, me." 
 
 "How long, Datu?" replied the bold old Chino. 
 
 "It can and will go on until the last of the class you Datus 
 typify have perished or been stripped of the myth of supe 
 riority over their fellows that has lent them authority and 
 privilege to have their will of their people. 
 
 "It must go on until all the lords of the earth are common 
 ers and all commoners are broadly privileged as now are 
 lords." 
 
 "Pay?" 
 
 "Yes, one day they must pay, must those governments; but 
 only can they be made to pay by forcing them to make way 
 for a new type of government that shall be truly representa 
 tive of all the people. 
 
 "And then generations of clean, honest, economic adminis 
 tration must ensue, through which the now idle armed hosts 
 are profitably employed in the ranks of labor, before national 
 resources can be husbanded and ability to begin paying their 
 creditors can be attained." 
 
 "Well, I m as glad they don t owe me anything as I m sorry 
 I don t understand their borrowing magic," commented Tele- 
 coco; "but tell us, Sabio, in what are the Mergans different 
 from the white people you have described." 
 
 "Most notably are they different, Datu, in that among the 
 Mergans all are equal and include no ruling class claiming 
 authority by Divine right. 
 
 "In theory, and largely in practice, their laws are made by 
 and for the common good of all the people. 
 
 "But true it is that their government has not yet become 
 truly representative of all the people. 
 
 "The governing class have so molded the laws and adminis- 
 
 [109]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 tered them as to create a ruling class even mightier than are 
 any who have occupied European thrones Lords by Money 
 Might, who are more powerful than any of the Lords by Di 
 vine Right." 
 
 [no]
 
 "Then they are rich, those Mergan Datus, and have many 
 people, have they not?" asked Mambutu of Go-Peng. 
 
 "Many people? What do you mean?" 
 
 "Why, many Monobo slaves, of course." 
 
 "No, Moros; the Mergans have no slaves, in the sense that 
 your Monobos are yours, whose bodies you may exhaust or 
 whose lives take at your will. 
 
 "All, under the theory of their laws, are free and equal, re 
 member. 
 
 "The lowest born may be elevated to the highest post in the 
 land, so he has the worth and strength to win it. 
 
 "Among them none may own property in human flesh; no 
 son of man may be bought and sold. 
 
 "But while Freedom opens the door of opportunity to the 
 Mergan masses, comparatively few ever get far within the 
 threshold. 
 
 "Here you Moro Datus must buy the men and women you 
 need to do your labor. 
 
 "They cost you money. 
 
 "They become property, a part of your wealth. 
 
 "Kill them or needlessly exhaust or starve them, and you 
 are deliberately robbing yourselves. 
 
 "None but fools do that. 
 
 "The fatter you keep them the longer they live, the more 
 they profit you. 
 
 "The labor the Mergan Datus need, they may not buy. 
 
 "The men and women and children they want, they hire, on 
 wage. 
 
 "Their health, their lives, matter nothing to the Mergan 
 Datus, for they have cost nothing, are not property. As last 
 as they are worn out or die, others may be hired. 
 
 [in]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Hence the Mergan Datus profit most who hire cheapest 
 and work hardest the men and women they need." 
 
 "Father of Alligators ! What a grand system!" enthusiasti 
 cally broke in Datu Telecoco, "Free! You call those Mergan 
 Monobos free, Sabio? Why, they re tighter bound slaves than 
 our Monobos! 
 
 "And think of it; brethren; they cost nothing, dont have to be 
 Jed, and you can blister their bands or break their backs without 
 loss of a centavo!" 
 
 "True, Datu, the Mergan Monobos are indeed slaves, in 
 many respects of more pitiable condition than are yours," 
 answered Go-Peng. 
 
 "Indeed, in yet another sense are they slaves, as victims of 
 the theory of Freedom and Equality upon which their gov 
 ernment is founded. 
 
 "The Mergans are a mixed race, made up of all the peoples 
 of the world. 
 
 "To them have flocked the lowly and downtrodden burden- 
 bearers of all lands, eager for share of their free opportunities. 
 
 "And there each, according to his ability, may earn twice 
 or thrice as much and often far more than in the land of 
 his birth. 
 
 "But soon, his imagination awakened and his wants in 
 creased by education, his perspective lengthened, the result 
 ing pride of the Freedom that gives him Equality with the 
 greatest of the land of his adoption, is transmuted into noth 
 ing less than a bitter curse that leaves him self-shackled in a 
 bondage few of his type ever escape, a bondage that galls and 
 sweats him to an extent your Monobo slaves never know. 
 
 "Equal to, good as any man! 
 
 "How can he obviously demonstrate it? 
 
 "How, save by living the pace of the grade next above him, by 
 decking his woman and cnildren gaily as those of that grade 
 deck theirs, by housing himself and indulging in luxuries as 
 do they? 
 
 "Thus, to realize in his own case and from his own point of 
 
 [112]
 
 BETTER OFF A MORO THAN A MERGAN SLAVE 
 
 view the Mergan theory of Equality, he condemns himself 
 to treadmill drudgery that never ceases until his death. 
 
 "For struggle and prosper as he may, increase his yearly 
 gains all he can, always above and beyond him is yet another 
 grade that keeps him wearily, stubbornly plodding.** 
 
 "What a queer people!* interposed Datu Linta; "I don t 
 see how they are materially better than are the whites who 
 forced the Black Poison on your people." 
 
 "Ah, but they are, Datu. 
 
 "The theory of their government is better, the best ever de 
 vised. 
 
 "And now they are steadily improving its practice. 
 
 "Nearer are they approaching a truly broad representative 
 government and rapidly limiting the power of the privileged 
 classes which have been exploiting the masses. 
 
 "Already many of their provinces have given their women 
 equal rights and privileges with their men, and soon, it ap 
 pears, women will have free voice in all affairs, public and 
 private, throughout their land. * 
 
 "Father of Alligators! What do you think of that? * Telecoco 
 blurted. "They are crazy, mad as a bee-stung carabao, are 
 those Mergans. What do their lords figure will happen to 
 their harems? 
 
 "Why, Sabio, their harems will be unlivable. 
 
 "Free voice indeed! 
 
 "Women s tongues and conduct ever are too free, even where, 
 as among us, one can make his Kali condemn them to be buried 
 to the shoulders in the sand or to be tied to an ant-covered 
 palosanto. 
 
 "May Balbal seize them if they try to bring such madness 
 here!" 
 
 "But, Datu, the *Mergans have no harems, at least in your 
 sense. 
 
 "Their laws limit them to one wife, and any not so satisfied 
 must forage abroad and eat his fruit where he finds it. 
 
 "To be sure, the foragers are many. 
 
 "And according to my observation when in their country,
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 their practices in this respect have served to make the con 
 dition of thousands and thousands of their women far more 
 deplorable than is that of the women of lands where polyg 
 amy is practiced." 
 
 "By my father s beard, but it is high time we are learning 
 their motives in invading our country," said Linta. "First, I 
 suppose, they are prompted by loot, for such a people must 
 be great raiders among themselves, are they not?" 
 
 "No, Datu," Go- Peng answered, "never do they raid their 
 neighbors. 
 
 "Wars they have had, but only to establish and maintain 
 their own freedom or that of others. 
 
 "Once only have they warred among themselves, over the 
 practice of one section of their provinces of enslaving black 
 men, and as a result property in human flesh has been abol 
 ished from their land. 
 
 "In their wars with others they have been invincible, chiefly 
 for that the soldiers of their enemies have been principally 
 landless hirelings of their rulers, with small color of stake in 
 the game they were forced into, while the Mergan troops 
 were free-holders battling for their homes or to help others 
 to the freedom they enjoy." 
 
 "To help others! Well that s about enough of your Mer- 
 gans," growled Telecoco; "personally, I get all the battling 
 on my own account I need, without messing with the troubles 
 of others. But brethren, is it not time to eat and sleep?" 
 
 A suggestion so generally popular that the conference ad 
 journed, to meet again in mid-afternoon. 
 
 As the company slowly filed out, Esa arose from a corner 
 where she had been feigning sleep, but eagerly following all 
 that was said, as well as she could, and sighed : 
 
 "Well, better a Mt. Apo than a Mergan Monobo." 
 
 And then she summoned some of the meaner slaves to re 
 move the circle of cuspidors which in the excitement of the 
 strange happenings tney had been listening to the betel- 
 chewing Datus had been patronizing more liberally than 
 usual. 
 
 ["4]
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS 
 
 Neither in her infrequent letters to her mother, nor in her 
 intimacy with the Morines, nor even to Captain Tony Trigg, 
 had Ruth Snell communicated any hint of the bitterness of 
 her disillusions and disappointments. 
 
 Far too much of the stubborn self-sufficiency of her father, 
 James Snell, had she for that. 
 
 His iron will had not been sufficient to daunt her and force 
 her into marriage with the human zero whose one and only 
 recommendation admitted by her father was the large 
 numeral in front of the long string of ciphers that represented 
 his fortune. 
 
 On this subject their two wills had clashed, and his had not 
 triumphed. 
 
 Her resolution was formed. 
 
 He might disinherit her and had. 
 
 Remained only to carry out her resolution, and to the carry 
 ing of it out she had proceeded with a promptness and meth 
 od that doubtless the old task-master was still secretly ad 
 miring. Only he d die before he d ever admit it. 
 
 Nor from the first plan to do for herself that had come into 
 her head had she varied a hair. 
 
 To her mother she had said, "I ll teach. I ll go to the wilder 
 ness, to any wilderness, say to the Philippines and teach my 
 naked sister of the jungle." 
 
 Hence, of course, to the Philippines she had come and 
 Destiny, working through the Chief of the Bureau of Educa 
 tion at Manila, had assigned her to the Moro Provinces, 
 with station at Cotabato. 
 
 Months before, when a government transport, making a 
 round of the southern garrisons to effect a change of troops, 
 had brought her there, she had found the wife of Joseph Mor- 
 ine the only white woman in the town.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Indeed, Mrs. Morine was the only white woman in all south 
 ern Mindanao. 
 
 And when Mrs. Morine s health made it necessary for her 
 to take the very next boat north, for a change of climate, Ruth 
 Snell, by right of seniority, succeeded to her lonely distinc 
 tion. 
 
 But while she had learned to highly esteem Mrs. Morine, 
 the loss of her had not in the least discomposed or saddened 
 Ruth. 
 
 Why should it? 
 
 Everything in this world has its compensations. 
 
 Strangers to love and warm friendship are spared the pangs 
 of partings. 
 
 Dwellers within themselves know no suffering from lack of 
 companionship. 
 
 And resolution having brought her there, it was also resolu 
 tion more even than Tony Trigg that was keeping her in 
 Cotabato. 
 
 But, oh! the sad jolts her ideals had received. She had in 
 tended to accomplish so much. That was the essential ele 
 ment of her resolution, to work and to do. And work that 
 shows no progress soon becomes a horror. 
 
 She had not come there as come the other Insular teachers. 
 Not at least in any respect save in her hopeless ignorance of 
 Spanish or any of the native tongues. 
 
 Of the rank and file of the others, some take their task seri 
 ously enough, but with very definite side considerations. 
 
 Some see in an Insular teachership a chance for a rattling 
 fine honeymoon; a few start warm with the untried zeal of 
 young missionaries; not a few have hid up their sleeves neat 
 little contracts for news letters to their home newspapers 
 and the rest are grateful for a chance to see the world at the 
 expense of Uncle Sam and to idle and fatten at his generous 
 crib. 
 
 But Ruth came just to work, to accomplish something, and 
 such as she like to see results, want results so badly that they 
 are distressed when they don t appear. . , 
 
 [116]
 
 THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS 
 
 That is what was hurting Ruth. 
 
 She was big mentally, trained intellectually to a finish, gradu 
 ated in the first five of her college class, fitted and ambitious 
 to win distinction in her chosen vocation. 
 
 And now, after many months of persistent, patient toil, she 
 realized she lacked fit material to work on ! 
 
 Fit! It was utterly impossible, altogether too raw for her 
 measure of preparation. 
 
 The job lot of castes, half-castes and no castes, a few of them, at 
 least, might attain the distinction of becoming the progeni 
 tors of great-great-great grandchildren capable of receiving 
 something of the rudimentary elements of a higher education. 
 
 But that was all. 
 
 Ruth knew it as anybody with a head screwed on straight 
 who studies the question is bound to learn and admit. 
 
 And it was somber thought along this line that had been 
 preoccupying her that afternoon when the Governor strolled 
 in for a cup of tea and a chin-chin. 
 
 Many, indeed, were the long chin-chins the two had. Never 
 theless, their interest in each other was so obviously purely 
 intellectual that Captain Tony Trigg was not worrying about 
 it, much less feeling it necessary to take any exception to it. 
 
 Her keen mind and serious interest in all the larger Insular 
 problems was both an inspiration and a rest to Morine, a rest 
 from the routine of office minutias and the petty shop talk of 
 the mess. 
 
 His broad knowledge of the world, his intimate experience 
 and close observation of social and political conditions in 
 many lands, and his shrewd, and often startling and altogeth 
 er original but always profoundly earnest conversation, ab 
 sorbed her. To her, it was a post graduate course in social and 
 political science by one who seldom minced words and who 
 never balked at free expressions of the prejudices deeply rooted 
 in his Irish blood. 
 
 After telling Ruth good evening, Morine dropped into a long 
 lounge chair and cheerily asked: 
 
 "Well, Miss Snell, how s the school coming on? Going to 
 
 [117]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 have the little brown brothers of the Islands fit for represen 
 tative government shortly? You know a big section of the 
 home public and press are clamoring for our retirement from 
 the Islands and leaving their people to stew in their own 
 political broth." 
 
 "Of course I m aware of the clamor at home, but certainly 
 you are jesting with me, Governor. Fit these people for rep 
 resentative government ! Fit them to be turned loose to run 
 themselves ! 
 
 "Yes, it s natural the people at home should expect that of 
 us, we ve gotten on so fast fitting the American Indians for 
 representative government and admitting them to participa 
 tion in it, haven t we? Let me see, I believe it was only a 
 small matter of three hundred odd years ago that we started 
 in on them with bullets and Bibles, a scant hundred since we 
 began serious attempt at their education, and yet how amaz 
 ingly rapid has been our progress ! So rapid that perhaps in 
 another half century they may be regarded as eligible for 
 citizenship." 
 
 "Quite so," concurred the Australian. "And there your prob 
 lem was so much more difficult than is ours here. In America 
 you were soon very, very many to the Indians one, while 
 here we have seven million natives of all sorts, none superior 
 to and few the equal mentally of the North American Indian, 
 to a few hundred of us !" 
 
 And since Ruth sat silent, presently Morine added, "Here 
 Tony s the bullet and you the Bible bearer of this Moro prov 
 ince, and possibly the eighth generation of your descend 
 ants may see the progeny of your present charges become 
 creditable citizens of a government of their own." 
 
 Whereupon Ruth blushed slightly and manifested a meas 
 ure of discomposure very unusual for her, for Morine s last 
 observation had conveyed an implication he was far from in 
 tending. 
 
 For the truth is that she and Tony had become engaged, 
 and the fact had been locally announced by them several 
 weeks before. 
 
 [lit]
 
 THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS 
 
 At the time of her arrival, Tony had seen no white girl for 
 three years. The dignity and calm beauty of Ruth s face 
 made her to him a fascinating vision from another world, the 
 home world. 
 
 The splendid wealth of her golden hair had for him, so to 
 speak, cloaked the pathetic poverty of her figure and clothed 
 her in loveliness. 
 
 Ha! she had materialized. Here had come to him the girl of 
 his dreams through many a steaming jungle night when no 
 sounds broke the silence save the hum of insects, the plain 
 tive squeak of carabao and the bark of deer. 
 
 Thrall to her from the moment of their first meeting, the 
 great, gentle, rollicking, reckless bush fighter had keenly in 
 terested Ruth. 
 
 To her he was a new type in every respect. 
 
 Here was a man free of greed, free of envy, evidently hap 
 pier doing for others than in doing for himself, reputed the 
 most desperately cool fighter in all the Island forces, and yet 
 simple and tender as a child. 
 
 Soon it became plain to her that he was as tirelessly vigilant 
 of her convenience and comfort as against a jungle night sur 
 prise of his command. 
 
 No want could possess her or trouble stray her way, it seem 
 ed, that Captain Trigg did not divine it and bang ! the want 
 was gratified or the trouble disappeared. 
 
 All which was so wholly new to Ruth. She had never had 
 anything of the sort from anyone. And it was so very nice. 
 
 So very nice, in fact, Ruth was so grateful for it and came to 
 value it so highly, that when after months had passed Tony 
 mustered courage to declare his love for her, she had accept 
 ed probably it would be most correct to say, she had ac 
 cepted his service. 
 
 Certainly he had not stirred her imagination, much less set 
 her atrophied heart throbbing. 
 
 But she did highly value his obvious integrity, earnestness 
 and his utility. 
 
 [19]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 He was helpful to have around, and, of course, a man any 
 woman could take pride in. 
 
 So they had become engaged, and hence it was that Morine s 
 reference to future generations of their descendants had 
 caused Ruth some temporary embarrassment.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 WA-TU S WOOING 
 
 Rising from his siesta earlier than did the Datus, quite be 
 fore mid-afternoon, Wa-Tu, the enamored, began a sly quest 
 for the fascinating little Esa. 
 
 Finally he found her, alone, arranging the council room for 
 the afternoon assembly. 
 
 "Ah! And so here you are, little daughter of Mt. Apo. Al 
 ways are you busy worth a dozen of Ina na Manuk s best/ 
 
 "One must do her bidding, Chino," Esa quietly answered. 
 
 "Yes, yes; slaves must do as they are bia, little ones as well 
 as big ones, pretty ones as well as the ugly. 
 
 "Only for such beauties as you usually the bidding is to light 
 and pleasant tasks. 
 
 "So it should ever be, at least, if you were mine. The pleasuring 
 of old Wa-Tu would be the heaviest asked of you; for others 
 should be all the drudgeries. That would not be hard, would 
 it, little maid?" 
 
 "N o, not for long would it be hard, Chino," Esa enigmati 
 cally answered. 
 
 "Fine, fine!" grinned old Wa-Tu, wholly failing to catch 
 hint of veiled threat in her reply; "shortly we d get on won 
 derfully. 
 
 "And you, little beauty, you should be the envy of every 
 woman in Mindanao, for I d frock you in the brightest and 
 softest silks of my country, fatten you on its richest foods, 
 load your pretty neck and arms with rings and chains no Da- 
 tu s favorite owns. 
 
 "You should play to me on that fascinating little instrument 
 you finger til it trills softly as the whispers of the tiniest birds, 
 sing to me the amorous little sighing melodies I note you here 
 reserve for Usup as, once mine, you should always reserve 
 them for me. 
 
 "So, as now to him, so you should only sing to me when we 
 
 [121]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 are together, quite alone. That Wa-Tu will love; and you, 
 little beauty?" 
 
 "I, Chino," Esa answered, "I sing only for my own people." 
 
 "But, once come to me, child, you will be of my people, I of 
 yours." 
 
 "HI sing for none but those I choose," Esa answered, with 
 just a threat of anger in her tone the Chino did not catch ; 
 "and as for being yours, Pm not, nor will I be ever. Mark 
 that Chino." 
 
 "But if I buy you, little one, you ll have to come to me 
 you ll be mine, to do with as I will, but always mine shall be 
 a kindly will in all that concerns you." 
 
 "Buy me you may, I suppose, if Ina wants to sell me, but 
 what comes to you be sure you ll have no pleasure of, Wa-Tu ; 
 let Esa alone, or you will regret it for a short time." 
 
 "For a short time? What do you mean, little one?" 
 
 "I mean why, I ll have aught of no one I do not choose." 
 
 "Nonsense; only with me could you come near to realizing 
 what you say. With others whomsoever you would remain a 
 driven slave. None could be so fond of you as Wa-Tu. Come 
 to me, beauty!" and a long taloned, shriveled yellow hand 
 clasped her slender neck. 
 
 But only for an instant did it hold the shivering little figure, 
 and as she tore herself free she landed him a kick that doub 
 led him up withpain and drew from him ashriek that brought Ina 
 na Manuk and others from the outer gallery. 
 
 But as Wa-Tu remained half doubled, none noticed the still 
 trembling Esa, and an angry explanation by the Chino that 
 he had suffered a fall by catching his toe on a mat closed the 
 incident, for all but its two principals. 
 
 Shortly thereafter the council was resumed. 
 
 "Tell us, Sabio," Datu Linta began, "if those Mergans do 
 not war for plunder, among themselves or their neighbors, as 
 you have been telling us, then why are they come here?" 
 
 "I cannot yet be sure myself, Datus," Go-Peng replied. 
 
 "They say they have fought the Paddies and their people 
 against their will, were forced into warring on them to stop 
 
 [ 122]
 
 WA-TU S WOOING 
 
 their terrible abuses of the people of their colonies, beginning 
 on some of their islands near to the Mergans own country. 
 
 "They pretend that now they have freed the Filipinos from 
 Spanish misrule, they will leave the Islands as soon as they 
 have established order and find the Filipinos able to under 
 take their own government." 
 
 "Battling for others all the time! That beats me," sneered 
 Telecoco ; "they must be liars. How could they so profit them 
 selves. You don t believe them, do you, Sabio?" 
 
 "Yes, Datu, I am inclined to believe them. When the Mer 
 gans step in and stop misrule among their neighbors and es 
 tablish orderly government according to their theories, they 
 promote growth of trade and prosperity in which they may 
 share." 
 
 "Ah, but as you have explained their methods, Telecoco is 
 right," said Linta; "others may share with them, other peo 
 ples." 
 
 "True. But no two peoples profit most who trade alone with 
 each other. The more your markets are crowded with buyers 
 and sellers, no matter whence they come, the better. 
 
 "Would you that we Chinos should go? 
 
 "Are not both you and the Spaniards better off for our deal 
 ings with you?" 
 
 "Y es," hesitatingly agreed Telecoco, "since the Paddies 
 and other users of their smoking boats have stopped us from 
 taking by force of arms all we want from the vessels cruising 
 our waters. One can t live long who subsists alone on his own 
 fat. But with the Paddies smashed, won t our time come 
 when the Mergans go?" 
 
 "No," smiled Go-Peng, "for they cannot leave, while true 
 to their principles, until the power of you Datus is also smashed, 
 broken beyond chance of your regaining it." 
 
 "You mean they will rob us of our authority, free our slaves 
 and limit every man to one wife?" growled Linta. "Ha! the 
 dogs of unbelievers! The rivers shall run blood first. Nor 
 shall they win so long as my Maratuns can swing krises." 
 
 "From all I can learn of their work in Luzon," answered 
 
 I 123]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 shrewd old Go-Peng, "the blood that reddens your rivers will 
 be Moro blood. 
 
 "Take care, Datus. Think. Listen to your old friend. 
 
 "They are terrible in war, those Mergans. Resist them, and 
 you perish. 
 
 "Better one wife than none. 
 
 "Better give up slaves and, if necessary, work to feed your 
 selves than die to feed the vultures. 
 
 "And remember your brother Telecoco sees merit in their 
 practice of hiring the Monobo slaves they need, instead of 
 buying them. 
 
 "The wise among you may better so profit." 
 
 [ 124]
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 BETTING HUMAN FLESH 
 
 Pleasantly enough rolled on the weeks and months for Esa 
 with Ina na Manuk. Were all the slavery of the world any 
 thing like as benign as hers, better a thousand times that all 
 the poor of the world were numbered among the property of 
 masters. 
 
 Nor were the lives of Usup and Lancona materially less 
 pleasant in their bondage. Their tasks were light, always were 
 they well fed, and neither by Butu nor by Ina na Manuk were 
 they treated with anything but kindness. 
 
 Indeed, with the exception of the lordlier Datus, such was 
 the general attitude of the Moros toward their slaves. 
 
 But, of course, no bondage is so light it does not gall and scar 
 the hearts of all such as have known freedom. 
 
 And long for the simple delights of their home among the 
 whispering tree tops and beside the MalbuPs singing flood 
 the more Esa and her father and mother did, the thicker grew 
 their scars. 
 
 Meantime, Esa was progressing wonderfully, now more not 
 ably in her knowledge of pigeon Spanish, acquired from the 
 Chinos. 
 
 Always were the Chino traders coming and going, ranging 
 up and down the Rio Grande and its tributaries. 
 
 Of these Chinos, old Wa-Tu, the enamored, was the most 
 frequent comer and the longest stayer. 
 
 To the last degree that such a shrewd and wise old trader as 
 he could permit himself to become irrational about anything, 
 he was crazy about Esa. 
 
 He was bound to have her. 
 
 But withal, Wa-Tu was greedy and cunning, knew how to 
 wait, and was biding his time for a bargain. 
 
 Well did he know that Ina na Manuk had not been educat- 
 
 [125]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 ing her for nothing, and would be certain to ask him a very 
 fancy figure if he approached her directly with an offer. 
 
 But even to him who best knows how to wait, seldom come 
 quickly the things he would have. 
 
 And so it was with enamored old Wa-Tu. 
 
 Meantime, every opportunity that offered that he thought 
 might escape the vigilance of Ina na Manuk, Wa-Tu sought 
 eagerly, but subtly, to win Esa s favor. 
 
 But all to no purpose. Never did she seek to conceal the re 
 pugnance which she had expressed in the violent kick she had 
 given her old lover upon the occasion of his first wooing, the 
 afternoon of Go- Peng s council with the Datus. 
 
 And just now Esa was taking great satisfaction in the fact 
 that certain negotiations were about to mature, a situation 
 wherein she felt sure she would have the satisfaction of see 
 ing old Wa-Tu heavily bled and properly humbled. 
 
 For months past, Ina na Manuk nad been developing and 
 training a wonderful new fighting cock named Musla Manuk, 
 meaning "large bird." With him already she had won the 
 championship of the up-river towns by a long and bloody bat 
 tle with Lanang, the former champion of the river, the bird 
 that had passed from her to Datu Linta when Ina na Manuk 
 bought Esa off the Ganta slave block. 
 
 Now Ina na Manuk had planned a battle which, should 
 Musla win it, would give him the championship of the entire 
 river. 
 
 She had arranged a match with the owner of Maitum Man 
 uk, meaning "strong bird" who enjoyed the honors of cham 
 pionship of the lower river, and whose owner happened to be 
 -old Wa-Tu. 
 
 Always an inveterate gambler at the national game of cock 
 fighting and holding supreme confidence in Musla, Ina na 
 Manuk herself was ready enough to stake the last centavo of 
 the family wealth on the issue of this fight. 
 
 But this Butu would not permit. More timid he than his 
 wife, he held her original bet of one hundred pesos was as 
 heavy a hazard on the bird as they should take. To be sure,
 
 BETTING HUMAN FLESH 
 
 Musla was a wonder, but does not all life teach us that vic 
 tory is never the exclusive prerogative of the strong? 
 
 In most things Butu was heartily indulgent of Ina na Man- 
 uk, but when it came to her gambling his discretion gave him 
 strength to restrain her. 
 
 Not another centavo of bis money or single item of his prop 
 erty should she bet. 
 
 Ina na Manuk was peeved by Butu s parsimony but she did 
 not show it. Admittedly the hundred pesos would be a hand 
 some winning. 
 
 And once the fight with Maitum was won, Butu would 
 loosen up, doubtless, and let her back the next fight much 
 more liberally. 
 
 So now the family were off in their vintas, en route with their 
 champion to the Inogug market, the middle point agreed on 
 for the fight. 
 
 The crowds that assembled at Inogug from up and down 
 river points to see the fight were even far greater than those 
 which gathered at Datu Linta s slave sale at Ganta. Always 
 could a slave sale bring out a crowd, but never is a match be 
 tween the champion cocks of the river pulled off that it does 
 not pretty well empty all the villages and rancherias from 
 Mt. Apo to the sea. 
 
 For centuries cock fighting has been the favorite sport among 
 the tribesmen of the Islands, was current there away back in 
 the time of Magellan s bold voyagings. 
 
 Among the cities and larger towns of all the Islands it is a 
 source of important revenue to the municipal treasuries. 
 
 Never was it discouraged by the Paddies. Indeed, usually 
 the congregation that streamed from the churches direct to 
 the cock pits frequently saw their priest fighting a bird of 
 his own. 
 
 At cock fighting the Moros are as good, clean sportsmen as 
 any in the world. Win or lose, good feeling always prevails. 
 Usually betting is light, but on occasions, family fortunes are 
 staked, and may be lost, but the family cheerfulness and 
 good humor are preserved.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Doubtless in some measure the holding of their tempers by 
 the losers is due to the fact that all the population, both men 
 and women, are at all times heavily armed. None lacks the 
 flamy kris and many are never separated from their heavy 
 campilans. 
 
 Where all are armed, and the precipitation of a row means 
 more or less wholesale massacre, people think twice before 
 starting something. 
 
 When the family entered the cock pit, Ina na Manuk ten 
 derly carrying Musla under her arm, there they found Wa- 
 Tu awaiting them with Maitum. 
 
 Squatted facing each other, the owners of the two champions 
 were by turns stroking and fondling their respective birds or 
 standingthemontheground,tostrengthen their legs by scratch 
 ing gravel in their struggles for freedom from their owner s 
 tight grip of the tail. 
 
 So both birds were played, to supple their muscles and stiffen 
 their tempers, preliminary to battling, after which they were 
 carefully bathed in cold water. 
 
 Next, the long, curved spurs, keen edged as lances, were firmly 
 lashed to their heels. 
 
 This finished, the birds were submitted to the inspection of 
 the judges, and as soon as their approval of the spurs and their 
 lashing was had, the "Culuntungan" was sounded and the fight 
 was on. 
 
 Bold of their pride of never having been beaten, Musla and 
 Maitum lost no time in getting down to close, cunning fence. 
 
 Maitum made a clever feint that came near being the end of 
 Musla, who was tempted to fly at his enemy s head, with pur 
 pose to slash his throat; but his attack was avoided, and be 
 fore he could recover himself Maitum s spur had deeply stabbed 
 him in the chest. 
 
 Ha! blood, plenty of it! 
 
 And now the crowding thousands were roaring wildly as ever 
 did the Roman audiences when steel began to clash and slash 
 and lives to ebb, and back and forth at each other partisans
 
 BETTING HUMAN FLESH 
 
 were shrieking bets and the owners were anxiously crying en 
 couragement to their respective champions. 
 
 Now the birds were fighting wickedly, but coolly and cau 
 tiously, like the highly trained and widely experienced swords 
 men they were. 
 
 Occasionally, they had to be separated and rested. 
 
 Not even their mighty lungs could stand such furiously con 
 tinuous battling, where neither gave the other an instant s 
 pause for rest. 
 
 Moreover, wounds were coming fast. 
 
 And shortly speed began to lessen. 
 
 At Maitum s first success the odds shifted to him, but since 
 Musla had steadied down to unflinching, desperate fighting, 
 the odds dropped, and now not even the oldest cock fighter of 
 all the Moros dared venture odds on either bird. 
 
 And through it all Esa was having the time of her life, for she 
 had come to love the sport as keenly as did Ina na Manuk. 
 
 As the pet slave of the owner of Musla, little Esa was pranc 
 ing wildly about the ring, calling cheer to the family cham 
 pion. 
 
 And her cheers and those of Musla s other partisans rose to 
 shrieks of delight when presently Maitum fell, and lay upon 
 the reddened sand unable to rise, blood spurting from his neck. 
 
 Ha, the fight was won! 
 
 Theirs was the champion ! 
 
 Musla : their beautiful Musla was now king of all the river 
 cock pits ! 
 
 Musla ! Look at him ; isn t he splendid ! Blood streaming from 
 a score of wounds, but still squarely on his feet, weak, obvious 
 ly very weak, his head drooping and his eyes dull, but still 
 firmly on his feet ! What a splendid victory ! 
 
 But Look! 
 
 What is that? 
 
 Maitum is struggling to rise. 
 
 Yes, and he regains his feet just in the last instant before he 
 would have been counted out and Musla s victory declared ! 
 
 [129]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 On his feet! Fancy it, with the blood still spurting from his 
 neck! 
 
 A miracle it may sound but fact it is. 
 
 Steadying himself a moment, the mighty-hearted Maitum 
 wobbled feebly toward the drooping Musla, summoned his dy 
 ing energies, and with a last lucky spring scored a spur slash 
 that left the brave Musla s head hanging by a tiny bit of skin ! 
 
 So, often, are the fires of the dearest human ambitions in an 
 instant burned to ashes ! 
 
 But of the family of Musla s owner, Ina na Manuk, and their 
 partisans and backers, none took their defeat in the least 
 to heart except Esa. The rest accepted their losses like the 
 thoroughly good sportsmen they were, cheerfully even. 
 
 But to Esa it was a bitter disappointment, not that her mis 
 tress should fail to win, but because she had hoped to see the 
 annoying old Wa-Tu bled of his silver and humbled in his 
 pride. 
 
 That she had cause for any deeper interest in the issue of the 
 battle, neither Esa nor any of the others dreamed, until Butu 
 approached Ina na Manuk and smilingly remarked: 
 
 "Well, old mother, you see Butu was wise. The best cock 
 has his day, must one day loose his laurels to his better. Now 
 you ll be glad Butu refused to let you bet more than the hun 
 dred pesos, I m thinking." 
 
 "Yes, Butu was wise, Ina na Manuk replied, with a brave 
 attempt at a broad smile; "but when he forbade me to bet 
 more of his property, then I bet mine. That Butu did not for 
 bid, did he?" 
 
 "Why, no, old mother; but what did you bet?" 
 
 "Well, Butu must soon know; so I may as well tell him, that 
 against three hundred of Wa-Tu s silver pesos, I bet Esa!" 
 
 Well done ; very well done, old mother or at least well done it 
 would be were we winners, for that s a bigger price than ever 
 any Monobo girl was sold for. But well, maybe it will make 
 you a little less reckless in your chicken gambling hereafter." 
 
 But whether the loss of Esa, to improve whom as a market 
 able commodity Ina na Manuk had worked so hard and by 
 
 [-30]
 
 BETTING HUMAN FLESH 
 
 whose ultimate sale she had expected to realize so much, served 
 to restrain her in her gambling or not, certain it was that it 
 convinced her that the betting of human flesh was not unat 
 tended by peril. 
 
 One glance at Esa had sufficed to bring her to that conclu 
 sion, for since, standing near them, she had heard of her loss 
 to Wa-Tu, the girl s face blazed with anger and hatred of the 
 bitterest. 
 
 Indeed, that one glance doubtless saved somebody s life, for 
 it forewarned her against the tiger spring Esa presently made 
 and the fierce snatch she made at the kris handle in Ina na 
 Manuk s girdle. 
 
 And when, with Butu s help, Esa was overpowered, and he 
 dragged her across the arena to old Wa-Tu, Butu remarked: 
 
 "Here s the rest of your winnings, Chino and look out they 
 don t bite you !"
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A HUNGER FOR TENDERNESS 
 
 Poor Tony Trigg ! 
 
 The simplest, sweetest, and soundest of one of the most at 
 tractive types of plain, garden variety of man, normal, warm, 
 human! 
 
 Vulgarly strong and healthy, handsome as a lean young Vi 
 king, riotously affectionate as the sunny-hearted merry are 
 ever apt to be, craving tenderness and caresses as the dower 
 right from Mother Nature they indeed are for all such as he, 
 few indeed are the women the wide world round who, with 
 half a color of right , or even of slim excuse, would not be fondling 
 him crushing him with embraces, smothering him with 
 kisses. 
 
 Love? Heavens, the man had love enough in his system to 
 do a score of women, and do them all well scant measure to 
 none. 
 
 Love? Why, his big, unselfish nature was so surcharged with 
 it that the tiniest scrap of it would be more love than most 
 women ever come to know. 
 
 And now all of it, in one great, warm, unbroken wave, was 
 breaking and chilling on the frozen coast line of Ruth SnelPs 
 frigid personality. 
 
 God, but it was a tragedy. 
 
 He had so much to give and she so little. 
 
 Better a thousand times pour out living affections at the 
 shrine of the cherished dead. 
 
 And it was all so unfair unjust, unequal. 
 
 It was all give and no take. 
 
 And ever must it so remain ; never may one take what does 
 not exist. 
 
 For Ruth s nature was as barren of love as are frozen wastes 
 of flowers. 
 
 But this, of course, Tony did not yet actually know.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Even something of the frank confiding of a warm friendship, 
 wherein worries are outpoured for sympathy and sympathy 
 subtly divines and solaces unexpressed anxieties, might have 
 sufficed him. 
 
 Who knows? None may tell for sure what would suffice 
 another. But Tony was so wholly unselfish that perhaps even 
 that much would have done for him would have answered 
 to leave him entirely content in his love for Ruth. 
 
 But through the long months of their daily association and 
 the many weeks of the closer intimacy of their engagement, 
 all his joy of her was such as he got of his love of seeing and 
 serving her her only concession, a quiet, contented toler 
 ance of his presence. 
 
 Nevertheless, if Tony only knew it, which, of course he 
 didn t, such concession was infinitely more than she had ever 
 granted to any other man or to any woman or child, for 
 that matter. 
 
 And just herein lay the biggest tragedy of all the fact of 
 Ruth s sheer poverty. 
 
 To Tony she was honestly giving all she had to give her 
 self as ignorant of her pitiful destitution as was he ! 
 
 Meantime, Tony was hungering and thirsting for tender 
 ness, for the caresses that make the love of a man and a maid 
 the most infinite bliss this old, old world has yet managed to 
 afford, the caresses that are the pledge of ultimate fulfillment. 
 
 He was crazy to hold her in his arms and seal his lips on hers. 
 
 He was wild to plunge his face into the waves of her hair and 
 there, so submerged, ever to leave it. Drown? Ah, yes, to be 
 sure, he might. But why not? What death could be happier? 
 
 He wanted her beside him for hours, and hours and hours 
 out in the velvety blue tropical night, seated within the 
 shadows of the platanos, his arm around her waist, her cheek 
 cuddled close to his, silent both, but brains aflame with dreams 
 of their future together. 
 
 He was crazy to put her in a vinta and push out into the se 
 clusion of the pearl-gray mists of the river, and therein, re 
 clined at her dear feet and hidden from all the world as com-
 
 A HUNGER FOR TENDERNESS 
 
 pletely as if they were the only tenants of a planet, to drift 
 and drift, and drift. 
 
 Instead of all which, poor Tony had to content himself with 
 what? With placid smiles of approval of his untiring ser 
 vices and attentions and with the touch now and then of fin 
 ger tips that lay in his for a moment just as still and cold and 
 expressionless as if they belonged to a dead hand! 
 
 Poor Tony! 
 
 And, of course, he was quite too much in love to reason on the 
 subject. Instead, he just loved on and hoped. 
 
 Tonight he was so loving and hoping, as they lounged in the 
 long chairs on her gallery, when he pleadingly asked : 
 
 "May I not hold your hand, please, sweetheart?" 
 
 "But now why should you hold my hand, Tony? The fact 
 is I m rather tired of an unusually vexing day in school. * 
 
 "Why, darling? My God, because I love you, and want many 
 things you never give me. Silly beggar, you seem to think me, 
 but you d never so hold, dear, I m sure, if you loved me as 
 much as I love you. And sometimes I m almost wondering, 
 I m bound to tell you, dear, whether you really love me at 
 all." 
 
 "Love you, Tony? Why, of course I love you. Most assured 
 ly. How can you doubt it? You have my plighted word. And 
 you know I m a serious girl, never given to trifling on any 
 subject." 
 
 "Know it, darling! Of course I know it. And that s just the 
 trouble, maybe, you re too d , well, you re too serious 
 to well, to stay healthy, mentally healthy, I mean." 
 
 "Why, boy, whatever are you trying to express?" 
 
 "Oh, Ruth, it s so hard for me to say. To me you are as 
 beautiful as a divine spirit, and sometimes I can t help fear 
 ing you will always remain to me as hopelessly intangible as 
 one." 
 
 "Intangible? Tony, intangible?" 
 
 "Just that, Ruth, dear. Love, full grown love, is no wobbling 
 weakling; it s an eager athlete that wants to seize and grip 
 and crush, tenderly crush, and make its object know it s
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 alive, and strong, very strong, incapable of exhaustion, an 
 athlete that wants to grip and never let go. Anyway, that s 
 what a man s love is and what it seems to me a girl s love 
 must be, when it s full grown. Look at Cupid, Ruth; you could 
 never think of him as cold, or of his tug at his bow string as 
 anything but firm and strong." 
 
 "Ah, Tony," Ruth answered, "you are more trying than the 
 wildest of my little pagan wards. By all the higher sciences 
 teach us, shall I never be able to prevail upon you to see life 
 and live it in harmony with their lofty teachings?" 
 
 "Lofty! That s it, dear. You re always mentally cruising 
 outside of my atmosphere, for I m of the earth, earthy, loving 
 the sun that warms it, the soft lapping waves that tenderly 
 kiss it, the grass and the trees that clothe it, the flowers that 
 adorn it, the warm, throbbing life it cradles. Just a very sim 
 ple, commonplace type of a man, you see, content where he s 
 been put, enjoying his work and his play and knowing pretty 
 well where he is at as long as he can feel soft, warm soil under 
 his heels." 
 
 And then, after a short pause and a deep sigh, added : 
 
 "My misfortune, of course. Must be jolly fine, I suppose, 
 up there high aloft of everybody where you live, sweet, but 
 it s all strange country to me; and, dear, please, I think I d 
 rather you d not try to take me up there can t imagine 
 there s anything up among the clouds to grip and tussle with." 
 
 "My dear boy, I m afraid all your views of life are crude and 
 archaic as yes, I may as well say it, as crude as those of a 
 cave man. You dear, big battler, you ve always got to be 
 gripping things, haven t you? If you did not so tenderly tend 
 the flowers you have banked thick around your quarters and 
 were not ever so kindly considerate and thoughtful of me, I 
 should think your only joy in life was in seizing and crushing 
 or smothering things. Really, dear, you re hard for me to un 
 derstand, sometimes." 
 
 "Me? Christmas, Ruth, I m simple as a primer. Guess that s 
 just the trouble; you can t manage to think down in my raw 
 terms."
 
 A HUNGER FOR TENDERNESS 
 
 "Down, Tony, down?" and for a moment the beautiful face 
 wore perhaps the nearest approach to a wistful expression he 
 had ever seen on it, and when she resumed her voice was very- 
 low; "Down? Ah, dear, sometimes you have me wondering 
 whether you are not the soarer and I the groveller! Raw! Yes, 
 of course you re raw, rude in your strength, but you re the 
 bravest, merriest, truest and most unselfish soul I have ever 
 known." 
 
 "Shucks, Ruth- 
 
 "But, Tony, you re all that. And it is only right I should tell 
 you you re the only man I ve ever taken even the most casual 
 interest in. Everyone who knows you loves you, and I, well 
 from the first your love has been a torrent I could not stem if 
 I would, but it is a torrent that does not sweep me on so fast 
 that the way is not illuminated by the lights of reason." 
 
 "Lights of reason be be blessed, my darling. Whatever the 
 deuce have the lights of reason to do with love? Not the 
 brightest ray of reason s most blinding beams may ever pene 
 trate the dusky dingles where all great loves haunt and Drood 
 when not bathed in that glorious effulgence of realization 
 that pales reason s light and would blind the very sun." 
 
 "Ah, Tony, true enough it is that gloom shrouded all things 
 until the lamps of reason were lighted, material and spiritual 
 alike. Mankind were blind gropers among awesome mysteries 
 until, fused by the white heat of reason s light into their com 
 ponent parts, most of the mysteries of life now stand revealed, 
 among them love as well, at least measurably revealed. 
 
 "Love! Tony, why a saw old as time has it that love begets 
 love. But nothing of the sort. Love is a toxin atom that, ac 
 tive in one, seizes upon another, feebly resistant of its attack, 
 possesses and infects it. Doubtless, one day, shortly, the men 
 tal microscopists will have its bacilli isolated, and perhaps 
 who knows will discover some protective countervailing 
 germ." 
 
 For some time Tony sat staring at Ruth in stark agitation 
 that nearly approached terror. Her usually calm violet eyes 
 were now blazing with good God, could it be madness? 
 
 [137]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But presently he steadied, with realization that it was only 
 an unusual manifestation of the hyper-sanity that, he was 
 beginning to dimly suspect, kept all the blood in Ruth s sys 
 tem busy in her brain. 
 
 There really wasn t much to answer. But as the big curly- 
 haired captain rose to take his leave, prey to his hunger for 
 caresses, he extended his arms toward her and softly pleaded. 
 
 "Won t you come to me, my love?" 
 
 "What, Tony," Ruth quietly answered, looking up at him 
 with an expression of mild reproach; "what? An embrace, 
 you mean? Nonsense, boy; an embrace is a deplorable waste 
 of energy, no more. You need to conserve all your energies 
 for your campaigns, I, mine for my school work. This climate 
 is 50 exhausting of the strength that we must conserve our 
 forces." 
 
 "But just one little kiss, dear?" Tony gently persisted. 
 
 "Now you big, stupid child," Ruth calmly smiled, "how 
 many times must I tell you that kisses are nothing but con 
 veyors of disease germs!" 
 
 "Well, Ruth," Tony wearily answered, "I guess one time 
 will about do for tonight, so buenas nocbes, and I m off." 
 
 [138]
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 WA-TU S BLUNDER 
 
 In the Moro Provinces, Prosperity implies Slavery and Po 
 lygamy. 
 
 At least to the extent that the Criminal Rich of the Moro 
 Islands are slave owners and sport harems. 
 
 Which goes to show two interesting facts; first, that neither 
 latitude nor longitude serve to widely differentiate humanity; 
 and, secondly, that, while regarded by us as crude savages, 
 nevertheless, the Moros are close prototypes of that con 
 spicuous class among ourselves which Go-Peng described as 
 "Lords by Money Right." 
 
 And, therefore, by such as may know that the Chinos are 
 foremost among the Captains of Predatory Industry in Min 
 danao, it will be rightly assumed that they are its most active 
 slave dealers and by no means its least busy polygamists, and 
 in their treatment of their women and their slaves never are 
 they notably tender and seldom even humane. 
 
 Which goes far toward proving another interesting fact 
 that for any woman who is not best satisfied to begin and end 
 her career as a more or less fascinating and seductive exhibi 
 tor and purveyor of feminine physical charms, but who in 
 stead fancies she might get deeper draughts of the sweeter 
 joys of life by alliance with one man likely to sit tight and 
 ride straight with her, better a thousand times that she be 
 come the helpmate of the poorest Monobo or Mergan slave 
 than the lawful wife of a rich polygamist. 
 
 For, of course, the Chinos, like all the polygamists, have 
 their lawful wives, who, as is also customary elsewhere, are 
 usually women of their own race. 
 
 And it was to the vigilance if not the overkindly care of his 
 Chino wife that Wa-Tu committed Esa, the long coveted 
 prize his valiant bird Maitum had won for him at the Inogug 
 market.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Her feelings in the matter, those of his Chino wife? 
 
 To Wa-Tu, rightly enough, her feelings were occasion for no 
 concern. If she had ever indulged feelings on the subject, 
 doubtless long ago they had been case-hardened by her cus 
 tody of Esa s many predecessors, of all breeds, ages and colors, 
 whom Wa-Tu s broadly catholic tastes had led him to acquire 
 and commit to her charge. 
 
 But probably she had no feelings at all on the subject, no 
 resentment, no sense of suffering a wrong or outrage. For be 
 it remembered, that where polygamy is an openly established 
 and recognized institution, there the ladies enjoy a great ad 
 vantage over most of their white sisters of civilization. 
 
 There women know the brevity of their day and make the 
 best of it while it lasts ; here women seldom fail to make the 
 best of their day, but still labor under distressing illusions re 
 specting its brevity. 
 
 There they know that the thumbed and dog-eared pack must 
 inevitably make way for a fresh pack; here, they don t. 
 
 At least, none here know it save such as go into training for 
 an alliance with some Lord of Money Right, the girls who in 
 evitably early learn to cherish no illusions respecting fidelity 
 and hence remain immune to sense of injury or grief where 
 they find it lacking. 
 
 As for Esa s feelings, by the local code she was not entitled 
 to have any of her own. Honored by her master s favors, it 
 should be a joy to her to pleasure him. 
 
 Only in her case, shrewd old Wa-Tu well knew he could 
 count on nothing of the sort. To him she was a new species, 
 and he was much too cunning a dickerer and diplomat not to 
 realize she would be better dealt with along new lines. She 
 should mellow better by cozening than by compelling. 
 
 Thus her first few weeks in the Wa-Tu household made a 
 period of ease and luxury she had never known. 
 
 And so far she enjoyed herself hugely, for she would have 
 been less even than a savage maid if she had not found delight in 
 the brilliant-hued, filmy stuffs in which the Chino wife decked 
 
 I
 
 WA-TU S BLUNDER 
 
 her and in the gleaming bangles and chains with which Wa- 
 Tu loaded her. 
 
 And, of course, it was nice to have nothing to do but to feed 
 generously and to preen and admire herself. 
 
 Only the trammeling of the clothes was a nuisance a nui 
 sance she never got used to and always resented to the end 
 of well, to the end. 
 
 But while the clothes were hot and most annoyingly re 
 strictive of the free movement of a maid always accustomed 
 to go nearly naked, still they were lovely to look at and to 
 have. 
 
 And throughout this period Wa-Tu as a lover was a highly 
 ornate work of art, all gentleness and consideration. Had she 
 been a princess of the Ming Dynasty, he could not have treated 
 her with more consideration. 
 
 And so good was his memory of the violent kick Esa had 
 given him on the day of his first wooing of her, that through 
 this stage of his courtship he ventured on no familiarities. 
 
 He knew something of this world and its people, not so much as 
 his brother, the great scholar, Go-Peng, but enough to feel 
 sure in his own mind that no girl could long withhold her 
 kindness from one who so generously showered her with lux 
 uries. 
 
 But the weary weeks that he waited, and smirked, and 
 wheedled, brought no change in Esa; so utterly he failed that 
 one day his really broad knowledge of human nature brought 
 him to a rude awakening. 
 
 What a fool he was ! 
 
 Having money, he could buy; having power, he could take; 
 but how could such a shriveled old scrap of yellow parchment 
 as he hope ever to win voluntary tenderness from any young 
 girl? 
 
 He was wasting his time. 
 
 She was wearing out his silks. 
 
 The gilding would be wearing off the bangles and chains 
 with which he had adorned her. 
 
 Wa-Tu was indeed a fool. 
 
 [ 141 ]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 He was wasting time and the older one is, the less time he 
 has to waste. 
 
 And like a bolt out of a clear sky Wa-Tu s awakening be 
 came communicated to Esa. 
 
 One morning the Chino wife stripped her of all her fineries 
 and put her among the rudest household slaves and at its 
 meanest tasks. 
 
 From the most envied of all the household, she had become 
 its rawest jest. 
 
 Was there ever such an idiot of a girl? 
 
 Ha, what girl or woman of all the river side would not jump 
 at the privilege of being showered, as was she, with the fin 
 eries of old Wa-Tu? 
 
 But while none were backward in telling her plainly what 
 they thought, on Esa their views had no effect. 
 
 Disciplined in a measure by her life with Ina na Manuk, she 
 accepted her tasks. The several weeks so passed were black 
 and hateful weeks to her. 
 
 But when the Chino wife plainly told her that if she would 
 accept the preferred place in the harem Wa-Tu desired her to 
 occupy, she would be restored to all the luxuries of which she 
 had been deprived, Esa simply answered : 
 
 "I will have no man save of my own choosing, and him I will 
 kill before I ll share him with another." 
 
 Whereupon, acting, of course, under Wa-Tu s instructions, 
 the Chino wife had her seized by others of the household, evi 
 dently preadvised to be ready, and began beating her with a 
 bamboo stick. 
 
 Like the now madly insane little wild young thing she was, 
 Esa desperately fought, scratching, gouging, tearing hand- 
 fuls of hair from her detainers. 
 
 But all to no purpose. 
 
 They were too many for her. 
 
 And finally she fell, bleeding pitifully and too weak to rise. 
 
 Throughout the night Esa lay still in the corner where she 
 had been dragged, helpless of her hurts, but the afternoon of 
 
 [ 142]
 
 WA-TU S BLUNDER 
 
 the following day, recovered sufficiently to be up and about, 
 she came to the Chino wife and very humbly said: 
 
 "Enough; I have had enough. I am Wa-Tu s slave. It is for 
 him to do with me as he pleases. I submit." 
 
 "You will go willingly? 
 
 "Willingly." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Tonight." 
 
 "Ah, so," smiled the Chino wife; "that s better; that will do. 
 They all come to their senses sooner or later. And now to 
 dress and deck you for Wa-Tu s favor." 
 
 Whereupon Esa was bathed, lotioned, scented, tricked out 
 in silks and again loaded with the gleaming bangles and 
 chains. 
 
 And maybe that was not a joyous afternoon for old Wa-Tu ! 
 
 Certainly, it was altogether quite the reddest red-letter day 
 of his age if not of his entire life. 
 
 For, remember, he had permitted himself to become, in his 
 oriental way, as madly enamored of Esa as ever in his youth 
 of any of the daintiest beauties of his native land. 
 
 Long had he wanted her, and now, at last, he was to have 
 her. 
 
 Oh joy of joys ! 
 
 And all the afternoon he was capering about so giddily that 
 he even had the misfortune to break the two-inch little finger 
 nail cultivated by all Datus and Chinos as the insignia of 
 their independence of all forms of manual labor. 
 
 But why worry over even the loss of one s insignia of gen 
 tility when the sun is sinking into the rice paddies and the 
 evening of his honeymoon is at hand? 
 
 Wa-Tu didn t care. Why should he? 
 
 He could grow another little finger nail, but was he likely 
 ever to be vouchsafed such another delightful honeymoon? 
 
 Grieve over the finger nail? Nonsense. Tonight he would be 
 merry how could one be aught else but merry on a night that 
 promised him nothing but bliss? 
 
 But shrewd old Wa-Tu had blundered. He had made the 
 
 [ 143]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 most irretrievably fatal blunder of his life one that it was 
 never given him to regret and try to correct. 
 
 For once his keen judgment of human nature had been at 
 fault. 
 
 He had failed to remember that by no means all wills that 
 bend are broken. 
 
 He had ignored a fact that none knew better than he, that 
 few feminine minds are incapable of dissimulation. 
 
 [144]
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 WA-TU S HONEYMOON 
 
 It was the early evening of old Wa-Tu s honeymoon. 
 
 He was there. 
 
 And so was the moon. 
 
 But the honey was gone. 
 
 However, that didn t matter to Wa-Tu ; he was not caring a 
 centavo. 
 
 Of course, the reader will remember that Wa-Tu had blun 
 dered, and knows that all who blunder must pay, but occa 
 sionally blunderers are spared regrets. 
 
 So it was with Wa-Tu in the matter of his honeymoon. 
 
 Sometimes the gods are good to us, even the weird symbols 
 of divinity Chinos bow down to, and abstract us from con 
 templation of our blunders and the disappointments and griefs 
 they bring. 
 
 Which was especially fortunate in Wa-Tu s case, for other 
 wise time to grow many yards of new little fingernail must 
 have elapsed before his recovery from the shock of the loss of 
 his honey at least sufficiently to find heart to be casting about 
 for attractive material for a new honeymoon. 
 
 And the honey? 
 
 Little Esa, whose voluptuous beauty and wild grace had set 
 desire gnawing him? 
 
 Where was she? 
 
 Ask the cool breezes blowing down from Mt. Apo. Maybe 
 they can tell. 
 
 Or ah, yes, far better ask the Luciernagas, the giant fire 
 flies of the tropics. Who so surely as they must know? Not 
 even the rtiost sinister slinker among the shadows of the night 
 can escape their bright-blinking lamps ! 
 
 Ah, there comes a big Luciernaga from up river. Let s ask 
 him. 
 
 To be sure; no mistake that time. Scored the first shot. 
 
 1 145]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Stealing through the pearl-grey mists that shroud the river, 
 sticking tight within the shadow of the bank, swiftly sweep 
 ing up stream on the flooding tide and driving the faster of 
 all the force her sinewy arms were able to put into rapid pad 
 dle strokes, Esa had nearly escaped him. 
 
 But once he had seen her, the strangeness of a maid paddling so 
 desperately through the night had so roused the Luciernagas 
 curiosity that he had hovered near and overheard her talk 
 ing softly to herself. 
 
 "There s no doubt about it," she had said, "powerful as is 
 the Ingorandy magic among our own people, it is just of no 
 avail at all against these Moros and Chinos. 
 
 "Through the weeks that they were good to me at Wa-Tu s, 
 as well as through the weeks that they made me labor and 
 beat me, I prayed and prayed to Dewata and invoked Too- 
 mulkun, Busau and the Limbings to succour me. But to no 
 purpose. They did not respond. 
 
 "Ha! Had they come, it would have been so easy. 
 
 "One flutter of the blood-red wings of Toomulkun, one shrill 
 whirr of the enormous black wings of Busau, one brief ap 
 pearance of the limping Munowog or of any of the frightful 
 little Limbings, and all the Chinos would have scattered through 
 the rice paddys, leaving Esa free. 
 
 "And the hideous, hateful old bag of bones, Wa-Tu, he was 
 too old to run and the Limbings would have swarmed over 
 him to his suffocation. 
 
 "Yes, for any of our gods all this would have been so easy. 
 
 "They must be afraid of the Chinos* magic. 
 
 "Strange, strange! I must always remember that when I 
 get back to Pugsan. And then I may be more powerful than 
 any ruler the Monobos ever had. 
 
 "Fancy! Our Monobos fear Dewata and his lesser gods more 
 than anything else, and pay, how heavily they pay Usup to 
 beseech for them Dewata s aid and mercy. 
 
 "The fools! 
 
 "For I, Esa, child of Usup and Lancona, have come to know 
 for sure that the magic of Lancona, the medicine woman, the
 
 WA-TU S HONEYMOON 
 
 magic that she gets from the trees and herbs of the forest, is 
 far more powerful than all the magic of Usup, the great In- 
 gorandy, and of Dewata and all the minor gods Usup invokes. 
 
 "Ah, Lancona s magic never fails never, never fails. 
 
 And I , Esa, / know that magic, and I , Esa, am more powerful 
 than Lancona, for she does not know her magic is so much 
 stronger than that of Usup. 
 
 "Yes, yes, and I must be very careful to guard the magic I 
 keep always hidden in my waist cloth, the tiny little packages 
 the ones I had so much difficulty hiding from that Chino wom 
 an when she was making me wear those beautiful Chino 
 things. 
 
 "Huh ! Isn t it lucky so little of the magic serves ! 
 
 "Just a few tiny grains, rightly used, and all your troubles 
 vanish. 
 
 "Ho, ho! It makes me laugh. 
 
 "That foolish old Wa-Tu, brother of the big Chino Pundi- 
 ta, one of the most powerful of all his people! Ha, the old 
 fool thought he had Esa at his mercy, to play with and to 
 make do just what he liked. 
 
 "But he didn t know the heart of Esa. 
 
 "Share her man with a lot of other women! Never, never. 
 
 "Esa would die first, if it were necessary to save her from 
 such a horrid fate. 
 
 "But never need she die to save herself while she has handy 
 some of Lancona s splendid magic. 
 
 "Foolish old Wa-Tu! 
 
 "Now the women of his harem are tearing their hair and the 
 children screaming their grief! 
 
 "Ah, Esa can see him eating his rice and then sipping his 
 tea, the tea into which I slipped a few grains of the magic 
 that makes Esa more powerful than all the Ingorandys and all 
 the gods of Mt. Apo ! 
 
 "One sip of the tea, or two or three sips at the most, and then, af 
 ter a moment of writhing on his mat and grippings at his fast 
 slowing heart, old Wa-Tu straightens and lays stnl !
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "And so shall die all who ever injure Esa or seek to force her 
 to do their will!" 
 
 It was out of the pearl-grey mists that ever of nights shroud the 
 yellow flood of the Rio Grande, and shortly before the dawn, 
 that Esa steered her vinta in among those of Butu, and landed. 
 
 And when, shortly after the family were astir, she entered 
 the house, it was perhaps one of the greatest surprises they 
 ever had. 
 
 "How s this, girl; what are you doing here?" Ina na Manuk 
 asked. 
 
 "I have left Wa-Tu, and have come back to you to stay." 
 
 "But you are his slave, girl." 
 
 "Yes, I was, but Wa-Tu was sick and perhaps he did not 
 get well. I ran away and I come to stay." 
 
 Here was a dilemma, but the shrewd old Butu solved it when 
 he suggested to Ina na Manuk that it was quite possible that 
 Esa had made herself such a terror to the Chino that perhaps 
 he would be glad to sell her back to them at a cheap price. 
 
 And developments came fast, for it was only a few hours later 
 that a vinta arrived from down river, carrying Wa-Tu s head 
 man, in search of the fugitive. 
 
 And thus early came to them the news that the evening of 
 Esa s flight, Wa-Tu, while taking his evening meal, had sick 
 ened and died almost as suddenly as if struck by lightning, 
 and that all the household felt sure that Esa had poisoned 
 him and were insistent that she should be brought back to be 
 judged by the Kali and punished for her crime. 
 
 And just here Ina na Manuk and Butu were quick to recog 
 nize the arrival of opportunity. 
 
 Seldom among the Moros are punishments inflicted as pro 
 vided by the Luwaren when anyone may profit by their sus 
 pension. 
 
 Justice, revenge, what do they count against money? One 
 cannot buy anything with justice or revenge. 
 
 And thus it happened that Ina na Manuk managed to re-
 
 WA-TU S HONEYMOON 
 
 cover full legal title to Esa at a price, figured against the sum 
 Wa-Tu had bet against her, that made her one of the best 
 bargains Ina na Manuk had ever secured. 
 
 And as a part of the consideration, Ina na Manuk exacted 
 from the Chino the promise that his people shall not talk of 
 their suspicions respecting Wa-Tu s sudden death. 
 
 [ 149]
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 NAKED BOLOS IN THEIR HANDS 
 
 Swiftly and almost silently Morine s launch swept up the 
 Rio Grande on the breast of the flooding tide, with all lights 
 out. 
 
 He was bent on checkmating Linta and Telecoco. 
 
 It was near dawn, within an hour of it, and the little expedi 
 tion was nearing Datu Telecoco s rancheria. 
 
 Beside the pilot idled Morine, Tony and Captain Catron, the 
 latter the depot quartermaster, come along for the fun of it. 
 
 The insignificant but deadly muzzle of a machine gun pro 
 truded truculently over the starboard bow. 
 
 Around the decks sprawled the slender khakied forms of 
 twenty of Trigg s constabulary, a nondescript lot so hope 
 lessly mixed of blood that probably none could be rightly de 
 scribed as half-breeds. Scarcely dependable material for des 
 perate service one would say at first thought or glance, and 
 yet an eager, searching, tough lot of fighters when well led. 
 
 So still was the heavy tropical night and thick the mists 
 through which they were stealing, that, but for the soft chug- 
 chug of the propeller, the low ripple under the bow and occa 
 sional dim glimpses of the shore line, it would have seemed 
 that they were stalking some star-dwelling enemy through 
 empty inter-stellar space. 
 
 "Tony, I ve changed my mind," Morine suddenly remarked. 
 
 "The devil you have! In what respect?" 
 
 "Why, there s an easier way to throw kinks into this Talker 
 to Alligators than hammering him." 
 
 "The hell there is! Going to fly at him with a slate and a 
 primer, I suppose." 
 
 "No, not exactly," Morine smiled; "I m going ashore, alone 
 with an orderly, to con or bluff him into coming aboard as 
 our guest." 
 
 "Not if I can stop you, Joe; it s silly suicide."
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Nonsense, Tony. I know my man. You ll have to leave 
 him to me, this time and if I fail, then you can print SILLY 
 on my headstone." 
 
 And then presently he added, "Detail me an orderly, slow 
 down and put me ashore. Lay to here for twenty minutes, 
 and then split the river for the village. Come there, all lights 
 on and stand by your machine gun, and at the first shot you 
 hear shell hell out of the show. Don t mind me; I ll look out 
 for myself." 
 
 "Well, you re the K. O. But I d never treat you that way, 
 Joe." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Why make you sit on your bally hunkers in the middle of a 
 d d river while your mate was marching up on such a bunch 
 of mad hellions as Telecoco s village holds." 
 
 "Good old Tony," Morine smiled, patting him on the shoul 
 der; "I understand. You shall have your whack yet, no fear." 
 
 And then Captain Catron broke in for the first time, "If 
 you ve no objections, Governor, I ll come along." 
 
 "Thanks, Captain," Morine rather doubtfully replied; "but 
 but why, yes, by all means, if you like. It will help out my 
 con of an official visit." 
 
 As they were passing over the side Trigg wistfully queried, 
 "Wouldn t suit you to let me come along, Joe, and leave the 
 command of the company to my teniente?" 
 
 A v \J 
 
 "Now, now! Tony," Morine indulgently smiled; "you re too 
 good a soldier for that. Got to play your K. O. s judgment, 
 you know." 
 
 All in rope-soled and canvas-topped "sneakers," silently as 
 ghosts the three stalked through the grey mists, wading through 
 rice paddys or crouching along their dykes. 
 
 Naked in their hands Morine and the orderly carried their 
 bolos. A shot would be fatal they must jump Telecoco be 
 fore their presence was suspected. 
 
 Arrived at the edge of the village, Morine leading, within 
 the shadow of a hut he came face to face with a drowsy Moro 
 sentry, who stood leaning on his heavy campilan blade. 
 
 [ 152]
 
 NAKED BOLOS IN THEIR HANDS 
 
 But no alarm was sounded. 
 
 A headless man can manage no better in the way of noise 
 than a momentary gurgle. 
 
 Beneath the huts and among the tall poles that supported 
 them they slowly stole, until, just as the dawn was greying 
 the East, they stopped in front of the casa grande that must 
 represent the joint palace and harem of the lord of the dis 
 trict. 
 
 Loudly Morine hallooed, but had to call repeatedly before 
 from within came an inquiry, "Who is it? * 
 
 "I; it is I, the Sultani of the Mergans, come to pay a visit 
 of honor to the great Datu Telecoco." 
 
 "But why are you come in the night?" Telecoco s voice sus 
 piciously queried. 
 
 "To avoid the sun, Datu. Your Mindanao sun is trying to 
 the Mergans. Come out. No danger threatens you. I am 
 ashore alone as you will see." 
 
 But it was only after five minutes of parleying that the drowsy, 
 half-roused Moro chief came out on the gallery of his house. 
 
 "Telecoco," Morine began, "I am here with this great trad 
 er captain to do you the honor of inviting you to come with 
 us to Cotabato for a conference, whither we shall be inviting 
 and taking all the other great Datus, to learn your wishes and 
 try to plan to meet them." 
 
 Just then the big launch rounded a point and stood in with 
 in thirty yards of them, few men showing above her rail but 
 all lights lit and reflecting from the waters a circle of golden 
 stars. 
 
 Alert on the saddle of the machine gun sat Trigg. 
 
 "You see you are to have the honor of a journey on our great 
 smoking vessel of state. Come on board, and we ll proceed to 
 visit and pick up your brother Datus." 
 
 "But tell me, Mergan, why " 
 
 "Oh, come along and I ll explain aboard. One does not hesi 
 tate to accept an honor, Datu. Come!" 
 
 It took a lot more parleying, but finally Morine s strategy 
 won.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Decked in his gayest duds, bright-hued and stately as a pea 
 cock, the Talker to Alligators passed aboard the launch 
 only to be seized, gagged and bound by Trigg the moment he 
 got into the cabin. 
 
 And no more was he safely aboard than Morine began a care 
 ful search of Telecoco s house, for a letter his spies had told 
 him had been recently received which fully detailed the plans 
 of the Datus to resist the Mergans and the part to be played 
 by each. 
 
 Topsy turvy he turned the house, while Telecoco s numer 
 ous wives and progeny dodged gingerly about, wide-eyed of 
 their wonder at what it all meant, and outside the village 
 streets seethed with a heavily-armed throng that had the 
 hearty will, but lacked the leadership to pounce upon and 
 finish him. 
 
 At last his search was rewarded ; he held in his hand the let 
 ter that amply proved all his suspicions of the Datus duplicity. 
 
 And then out through the scowling mob Morine stalked and 
 down to the shore, where he hailed to Trigg to send ashore 
 the Datu Dikaya, whose presence aboard had been a mys 
 tery to Trigg that Morine had not explained. 
 
 Dikaya was the cowed and timid chief of a small district near 
 Cotabato, long since a slave to opium and humbled by the 
 Spaniards. 
 
 As Dikaya was shambling ashore, Morine called, "If you 
 hear my gun, Tony, sweep the village with your rifles and gun." 
 
 And then, attended only by Captain Catron and the orderly, 
 he led the Datu to the village market house, a great roofed 
 shelter, open of sides and high on poles like all the other huts. 
 
 Come there, he ordered Telecoco s head Saligan to summon 
 all the head men of the district and the gente of the village to 
 a council. 
 
 Quickly they thronged around him, the leaders by his direc 
 tion ascending to the platform and squatting behind him 
 while the populace crowded thick beneath him, all scowling 
 and evidently hungry for his blood as a pack of starving 
 wolves.
 
 NAKED BOLOS IN THEIR HANDS 
 
 Standing at the edge of the platform, his meager escort at 
 his elbows and Datu Dikaya cringing near, Morine addressed 
 the crowd. 
 
 He was very brief, but while his face was smiling, his words 
 were verbal stabs. 
 
 "Your Datu Telecoco, the Feared, He Who Talks to the 
 Alligators, displeases me," he began. "Telecoco has been plot 
 ting against the Mergans. He shall cut the grass of Cotaoato 
 streets like the meanest slave. And now I, the Mergan Sul- 
 tani, give you a new Datu, the great Datu Dikaya, a man of 
 wisdom and peace. Here he stays and will rule you. Obey 
 him in everything or I ll return and feed the last of you to 
 the alligators. If there are any objections, I want to hear 
 them now!" 
 
 And he whirled on the Saligans seated behind him. 
 
 Sourly all glowered, but no voice answered his except that 
 of the badly frightened Dikaya, who trembling, pleaded his 
 fears. 
 
 Ignoring him, Morine finished, "Very well. It is best you 
 should make no objections. Mind Dikaya has none but good 
 reports to make of you," after which he descended to the 
 ground and returned to the launch. 
 
 As they stepped aboard, Trigg heaved a deep sigh and re 
 marked, "Mighty glad you re back; saved my life, I reckon, 
 for that s the first breath I ve drawn for an hour!" 
 
 And when, turning to Catron, Tony asked, "And how did 
 you enjoy the morning, Captain?" 
 
 "Why, Tony," came the answer, "as a fun picker I m re 
 garding myself as a rotten failure. The next time I want any 
 fun I won t follow Joe Morine. By God, but I d rather spend 
 a night adrift among the alligators of the Rio Grande than 
 attend another of Joe s lectures, my word for that!" 
 
 And when just as Morine was about to order full speed ahead, 
 a splash alongside drew their attention in time to see the 
 thoroughly terrorized Dikaya seize the low launch rail and 
 drag himself aboard. 
 
 At Morine s feet Dikaya crouched and chattered,
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "By the love of your mother, great Sultani, do not leave me 
 here. Telecoco is terrible. You do not know him. He is in 
 league with Balbal. He will turn himself into a serpent and 
 bite me, or suck my blood like a murcielago or send his alli- 
 
 ators to eat me and my children. Save me! Save me, good 
 ultani!" 
 
 "You stay put, where I put you, you old cur, or it will be 
 my pistol bullets that bite you, my bolo that sucks your 
 black blood" and landed the cringing figure a kick that lift 
 ed it back into the river.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 DATU LINTA S NUPTIALS 
 
 Into the not unpleasant routine of life with Ina na Manuk, 
 Esa would have dropped happily enough but for the fact that 
 she confronted the first great grief of her life. 
 
 Her parents were dead. 
 
 Usup, the greatest Ingorandy and Lukus of all the Monobos, 
 and Lancona, their wisest medicine woman, were no more. 
 
 Infinite is the love of savage parents for their young. And 
 what savage parents ever had such a wonderful daughter as 
 Esa? For her they had planned and worked so long, of her 
 expected so much. 
 
 She, why they had made that child as wise as were they both. 
 The last of their secrets and mysteries, the most powerful of 
 their magic, they had instructed her in until she was as wise 
 as they. 
 
 And never for a moment had they lost hope that one day 
 she at least would manage to escape and return to rule the 
 clan. 
 
 When the defeat of Musla by Maitum tore her from them, 
 both had grieved and fasted until they were no more than 
 shadows of the sturdy hill folk they were when the Saligan 
 Ishmael put them on the Ganta slave block. 
 
 And really of their grief they had perished. 
 
 For Usup, wasted to feebleness, had succumbed to a light 
 attack of fever. 
 
 And the good Lancona, the wisest medicine woman of all 
 the hill tribes of Mindanao, had become so weak she was no 
 more able to work, and one evening while idling incautiously 
 near some reeds by the river, was struck senseless by the tail 
 of a lurking alligator, and dragged into the flood and de 
 voured. 
 
 And hard, indeed, on the girl was the blow, for tenderness 
 
 [ 157]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 begets tenderness and the indulgence of savage parents makes 
 fond offspring. 
 
 But Esa was young and strong and bold, made bold and am 
 bitious by the rare training for high authority her dead par 
 ents had given her. 
 
 Their work for her must not go in vain. Their ambition for 
 her must be realized. 
 
 She must, she would yet rule her people as they had planned. 
 
 And many, very, very many were the velvet-blue tropical 
 nights that, withdrawn into seclusion among the platanos, 
 Esa sat trilling on her dearly-loved kuteebapee the gentle, 
 whispering Monobo melodies that Usup had taught her, al 
 ternately dreaming over Usup s fascinating mysteries and 
 Lancona s powerful magic, and struggling to mature plans 
 for escape to her home among the tree tops by the Malbul. 
 
 Unhappily none of her plans there made was ever to be re 
 alized. 
 
 Fate reserved in store for her many mingled perils, disap 
 pointments and joys before she was ever again to have the 
 chance to go questing in the MalbuFs sands for Busaus big, 
 black eggs. 
 
 Returning from his trip with Telecoco to Cotabato to con* 
 fer with Morine, Datu Linta had spent what was to prove 
 for him a very fateful day with Butu and Ina na Manuk. 
 
 There he had again seen Esa, for the first time since her sale 
 at his Ganta market. 
 
 The girl had developed wonderfully in every way. Mentally 
 Ina na Manuk had made her superior even to most of the 
 Moro girls or women, for she had educated her in a measure 
 few of them enjoy. 
 
 And physically Esa had more than fulfilled the promise of 
 her earlier youth. Now she had developed such a perfect riot 
 of voluptuous charms as to make her more fascinating to the 
 old Datu than any girl he had ever seen. 
 
 Throughout his stay he could not keep his eyes off her, and 
 naturally Ina na Manuk was not slow to note it and to real 
 ize that the time was come to bag the handsome profit she
 
 DATU LINTA S NUPTIALS 
 
 had anticipated as certain when Butu was chiding her re 
 specting the high price she had paid for the girl. 
 
 Nevertheless, Datu Linta was cunning and bided his time, 
 and it was not until some weeks later that the Saligan Ish- 
 mael drifted in one day, and, after partaking of refreshments, 
 intimated that the Datu Linta might use another slave. 
 
 Of what sort? 
 
 Oh, it was a girl slave Linta wanted; something like that 
 Monobo Esa; yes, perhaps she herself would do. 
 
 The bargaining took two days, but it was so quietly con 
 ducted that Esa had no suspicion of it. 
 
 Indeed, the first hint she had of her disposal was as the Sali- 
 
 fan Ishmael had firmly gripped her wrist to lead her aboard 
 is vinta, when Ina na Manuk told her she was destined to 
 the honor of becoming the first favorite of the great Datu 
 Linta s harem. 
 
 Of course, the cunning Saligan had never admitted as much 
 to Ina; but the high price she had managed to crowd him up 
 to left Ina no doubt in the matter well she knew that Linta 
 was never recklessly extravagant in anything save in his out 
 lays on his harem. 
 
 And well it was for him that Ishmael had not forgotten the 
 fierce spear stab Esa had given him at Pugsan, and now was 
 taking no chances. 
 
 For, in the first hot wave of anger and resentment that swept 
 her, she writhed and tugged for freedom, and then struggled 
 to seize his kris. 
 
 But, of course, in his great warrior s hands the girl was power 
 less and clever enough to soon realize it and cease resistance. 
 
 But as she was being made to step into the vinta, she turned 
 on her old mistress and quietly remarked, 
 
 "Mother of Chickens, you have been very good to Esa, but 
 now twice you have been very bad. Beware! Esa is more 
 powerful than you know. Beware!" 
 
 Time tempers passions, and for the wise sometimes solves 
 troubles, or points means to solve them. 
 
 Esa was wise, wise as are few maids of her age of any race. 
 
 [ 159]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And the journey on the Rio Grande, and then up the Degao 
 to Ganta, sufficed to calm her with the realization that each 
 paddle stroke was driving her nearer toward Mt. Apo, well 
 up toward the Moro frontier, close to the frontier she had 
 heard her good Tugan and his warriors were frequently raid 
 ing. 
 
 She was nearing her old tree-top home. 
 
 And out of the calm came resolution that set her subtle 
 brain seething with plans. 
 
 Linta? Ha, she did not fear him. Why should she, while she 
 owned magic more powerful than that of his Kalis and Pun- 
 ditas? He should never wear her. She would deal with him. 
 
 Nor did she lose time smoothing her way, for presently she 
 very humbly asked Ishmael: 
 
 "Tell me, great Saligan, Linta is the mightiest of all the 
 Moro chiefs, is he not, has more lands, more women and 
 fiercer Maratuns than any of them? * 
 
 "True, girl, the Datu Linta owns no master but A//a/j." 
 
 "And can it be true, what Ina na Manuk said as we were 
 leaving, that the mighty Linta will make me the first favor 
 ite of his harem, where already he has so many beautiful 
 women?" 
 
 For a moment the old raider sat staring in rude approval of 
 her voluptuous charms, muttering to himself, "He ll be crazy 
 if he don t, and crazier still if he does," and then gruffly an 
 swered, 
 
 "AH depends on you, girl. Yes, he will if you don t bite 
 and scratch too hard. But look out for Linta. He has little 
 patience. If you deny or vex him, you ll be tied to a Palo- 
 santo to be eaten by the ants." 
 
 All which strengthened Esa s resolution more than it daunt 
 ed her. 
 
 But it was with a smile and in a very meek tone that she 
 replied, 
 
 "Esa is older than when you took her from Pugsan. She has 
 learned much wisdom. A girl would be a fool who would not 
 be glad of the chance to pleasure a great chief who should so
 
 DATU LINTA S NUPTIALS 
 
 elevate her. Why, Salfgan, if Lfnta is the mightiest of the 
 Datus, she whom he makes the first favorite of his harem will 
 be the greatest woman of all your people, will she not?" 
 
 "Ha, girl," Ishmael answered, "you have indeed learned 
 wisdom. She who best pleasures Linta rules his Province." 
 
 "It is well, Saligan," Esa firmly replied; "if you are right, 
 so shall you soon see Esa rule." 
 
 Thereby proving that she had not been backward in learn 
 ing one of the first lessons civilization teaches the savage 
 Deceit. 
 
 And hence it naturally followed that it was an altogether 
 coy, almost a shrinking and timid maid, over whose rare 
 beauty Linta eagerly gloated when she was brought before 
 him. 
 
 Fast chewed his blackened teeth on a mouthful of betel-nut, 
 bright flamed the great purple scar where once his right ear 
 had been, and trembling were the hands that drew her to him 
 and rudely fondled her. 
 
 "A girl in a thousand!" Linta grinned; "and tame; now she 
 is tame. Ina na Manuk has done well." 
 
 Whereupon he summoned his wife, his lawful and once his 
 only wife but now long since the very last of many, and push 
 ing Esa toward her grufHy ordered : 
 
 "Take her and the best, for her the best; she s first." 
 
 Then he turned to the waiting Ishmael and growled, "What 
 did she cost? What did Ina na Manuk make you pay?" 
 
 "Dear, Mighty One; she made me pay dear two hundred 
 and eighty silver pesos; but " 
 
 "Oh! Oh! the old thief! I ll get even with her for that. One 
 day she ll want something we ve got, and then she shall pay." 
 And then, shortly adding, "But, Saligan, you ve done well. 
 Ina knows Linta can be made to give heavily of what he has 
 for what he badly wants." 
 
 On dragged slowly, very, very slowly for him, what Linta 
 was gloating over as likely to be one of the happiest days of 
 his life. 
 
 And while, retired for his afternoon siesta, he lay tossing of 
 
 [61]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 fevered dreams of the joys soon to be his, brilliantly were his 
 women gowning Esa for Linta s hymeneal festival, in the 
 most costly fabrics artistically wrought in most regal Moro 
 mode. 
 
 But as for Esa the hours raced away at frightful speed, her 
 anxiety grew, and grew, and grew. 
 
 So crowded was Linta s household that not the ghost of a 
 chance could she see to use Lancona s magic; always was 
 there a throng around the fires where food was being pre 
 pared for the evening meal. 
 
 She was becoming desperate ! 
 
 Still, not by the quiver of a finger or the flutter of an eyelid 
 did Esa show her anxiety and desperation when, very shortly 
 after supper, the grinning Linta took her hand and led her 
 behind the hanging mats that walled the nuptial chamber. 
 
 What happened within the nuptial chamber? 
 
 Ah, precisely what happened there Esa never told, not even 
 the smallest detail. 
 
 They were there shut in alone, little Esa and the Mighty 
 Datu Linta. 
 
 There were no eye witnesses of the happenings within that 
 nuptial chamber. 
 
 But often the ears learn something of happenings that no 
 eyes see. 
 
 And that evening those without the chamber heard, what? 
 the shrill swish of a kris the soft thud of a blade biting 
 into flesh the fall of a body the gurgle of severed arteries ! 
 
 That was all.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 WAILING THAT TOLD OF CALAMITY 
 
 Upon leaving Datu Dikaya swimming ashore, Morine did 
 not cruise far. 
 
 Since none of Telecoco s genie could suspect that he was a 
 bound and gagged prisoner aboard the launch, and must still 
 be believing the purposes of the expedition to be pacific, as 
 Morine had stated them, there was small fear they would at 
 tempt to send runners to their next neighbor, Linta. 
 
 Moreover, the distance to his rancheria was so great and the 
 going across country so bad that Morine felt safe to lay up 
 along shore for the day, after ordering that a sharp lookout 
 be kept for ascending vintas and that any sighted be inter 
 cepted and turned back. 
 
 Thus through the long, hot day he and his mates lounged 
 and drowsed under their awnings, with only three or four in 
 terruptions when vintas showed up that must be shooed back 
 down stream. 
 
 Meantime, Telecoco, now the Fearful and Very Humble 
 instead of the Feared, had been freed of his gag and gener 
 ously enough fed, but still remained securely lashed to a 
 locker. 
 
 Whenever Morine passed near, to him Telecoco pleaded, 
 but from him received no answer. The longer left in the dark 
 as to his fate, the more quickly would the last of his pride and 
 confidence be broken. 
 
 But the moment Morine s back was turned, Telecoco was 
 rumbling ominously as Mt. Apo prayers to Allah, invoca 
 tions of Balbal, wheedlings of the alligators and threats to 
 the serpents and murcielagos that, had they been effective, 
 would have made Morine the victim of some terrible fate to 
 make the stoutest heart tremble. 
 
 But, somehow, the supposedly doughty Telecoco failed to 
 
 [163]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 connect with any of the horror producers he was supposed by 
 his people to control. 
 
 Perhaps his spiritual powder was wet or maybe he was 
 just a silly old fakir, although one would certainly waste 
 time trying to make any of his gente believe it. 
 
 At nightfall, the launch resumed its chug-chug up stream. 
 
 For hours all were silent, but finally, unable longer to stand 
 the suspense, Captain Trigg spoke: 
 
 "Aren t going to change your mind again tonight, are you, 
 Joe?" 
 
 "Not so you ll notice it, Tony," Morine grinned; "Linta s 
 quite another proposition." 
 
 "Bully!" cut in Catron; "then I may safely cherish the hope 
 you re not planning another lecture stunt?" 
 
 "You certainly may; with him it will be pretty near a case 
 of shoot first and talk later. He don t seem to me to listen 
 well perhaps because that right ear of his is no longer doing 
 business at its old stand." 
 
 And then, after a short pause, Morine flared, "Think I m a 
 d~ d fool, hey, Captain?" 
 
 "No, no!" Catron hurriedly replied; "about the farthest 
 thing from one I know. Only, honest, while we stood alone in 
 that Moro mob, it did seem to me you had more confidence 
 in the trill of your own bazoo than I d ever want to risk plac 
 ing in mine." 
 
 "Well, the bazoo won with those gazabos, didn t it?" 
 
 "Slick as can a crooked roulette wheel and my very sin 
 cere compliments, Morine; it was simply splendid." 
 
 "Thanks, Catron, but just please forget it; all in the day s 
 work, man; all in the day s work, no more. Got to do our 
 work, all of us, and the quicker and cheaper we do it the bet 
 ter, no?" 
 
 And adding before either had time to speak, with perhaps 
 just a touch of pride, "Cheap little job, that, really; no wear 
 and tear on arms; no powder spent!" 
 
 "Cheap? Hell!" Catron commented; "no wear and tear! 
 Well, if you want to know, my arms suffered about all the
 
 WAILING THAT TOLD OF CALAMITY 
 
 wear and tear they could stand, hugging myself to keep my 
 heart from thumping a hole in my ribs! To me, that was 
 about the dearest job I ever had a hand in." 
 
 "Well, fellows," Trigg good-naturedly cut in, "that s over, 
 anyhow and it was all yours. Tony s show ought to be due 
 tonight, I m hoping." 
 
 "Bet your boots, Tony," Morine replied; "tonight is where 
 you go into action, if there s got to be one. But, of course, I m 
 bound to try to wriggle through without a scrap if I can. Lit 
 tle show I can, though." 
 
 "And less hope on my part you will. But what s the game 
 tonight, if I may make so bold as to ask?" 
 
 "Sure, and it s high time I told you; if I m not miscalculat 
 ing our position, the next point on our left opens the mouth 
 of the Degao River." 
 
 "Right, old scout, and an hour with the tide will be bring 
 ing us mighty close to Linta s show." 
 
 "Precisely. Well, we ll stop a scant mile below him. The 
 landing party will be the three of us and forty of our men. 
 Your teniente and the rest will do for the boat. Thirty min 
 utes after we land, the teniente will steam in close opposite 
 the casa grande, the siren singing a song that will make such 
 of them as have not heard one think Balbal s comin fo* to 
 carry em home. 
 
 "By that time we should have the boys stretched in a demi 
 lune around the village pretty wide open work demi lune 
 it will be, too, for it s a big village. 
 
 "Of course, I m expecting to have surrounded and sum 
 moned Linta just before the arrival of the teniente and the 
 launch. 
 
 "Not a shot must be fired until we are in position and 
 none afterwards until I signal, mind. But don t worry, Tony; 
 if Linta don t give us a man s fight this morning, I ll miss my 
 guess." 
 
 Sure enough, the next elbow of the river opened the Degao, 
 and up it they chugged as far as they dared. 
 
 And then in no time the landing party was safely ashore and
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Morine led Trigg s little brown terriers until opposite the 
 center of the village. 
 
 There he stopped, while Trigg swung the lead of the men to 
 investment of the upper end of the village and Catron drew 
 the rear around its lower end. 
 
 It was still an hour to daylight when the line was halted at 
 the edge of the narrow line of huts that, as usual, closely 
 hugged the river. 
 
 Directly in front of Morine, lurching crazily on the rotting 
 poles that supported it, stood the Datu Linta s casa grande. 
 
 But while not a single moving figure was in sight and other 
 wise the place was absolutely still, from the casa grande and, 
 apparently, from all the huts issued sounds of wailing that 
 told of some calamity so terrible that evidently not a single 
 family had escaped it. 
 
 What could it be? 
 
 Morine was puzzled, and moved. 
 
 Another enemy had descended upon these people ahead of 
 him. 
 
 And it had brought DEATH on such wholesale scale that 
 no household had escaped it. 
 
 From the low cadence of soft sobs that arose and fell like 
 the soughing of evening breezes through palm fronds, the 
 lamentations presently swelled to the shrillness of the 
 angriest typhoon. 
 
 What could it be? 
 
 Cholera? 
 
 Good God! 
 
 But no, there had been none on the coast. 
 
 What could it mean?
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 SLAIN LIKE GOLIATH BY A PUNY HAND 
 
 Whatever the dire visitations that had plunged every house 
 hold of Linta s village in mourning, Morine must proceed to 
 the accomplishment of his mission. 
 
 Approaching the casa grande, loudly he hailed, and hailed 
 again and again before any of its grief-stricken inmates paid 
 any attention to him. 
 
 At length, out upon the gallery strode a stalwart figure 
 Morine mistook for his quarry. 
 
 "The Sultani of the Mergans salutes the mighty Datu Lin- 
 ta," he began. 
 
 "But this is not the Datu Linta, Mergan," answered a 
 gruff voice; "I m his faithful Saligan, Ishmael." 
 
 "Summon your master, Saligan; tell him the Sultani of the 
 Mergans would see him." 
 
 "Ah, Mergan, if only I could summon him!" 
 
 "What do you mean, man?" 
 
 "Alas! Mergan, Allah has summoned him; the great Linta 
 is now with him." 
 
 "Indeed. And many of his people have gone with him, some 
 from every household by the wailing, no?" 
 
 "None have gone with Linta, Mergan; he passed out alone. 
 All his people mourn him." 
 
 "Ah, I see. And of what did Linta die, Saligan?" 
 
 "The mighty Linta was slain by a young Monobo slave 
 girl, Mergan; by an ingrate he sought to honor by adding 
 her to his harem women." 
 
 "So! And served him d d well right," Morine muttered to 
 himself, "much obliged, Miss Monobo; ought to simplify my 
 job a lot." 
 
 And then aloud to Ishmael he continued, "And when did 
 this happen, Saligan?" 
 
 "Only last evening, Mergan, at the hour of retiring."
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "And where is the ah, the very capable young lady?" 
 
 "Expiating her awful crime, Mergan, by the judgment of 
 the Kali; buried out there to her neck in the earth, to perish 
 of starvation or the sun.** 
 
 "Ha! Don*t waste much time or mercy do your Kalis, 
 do they? * 
 
 "It is for them to interpret the Luwaren and direct the 
 administering of the punishment it provides, Mergan." 
 
 "Ah, yes, the Luwaren is your law, and so it punishes un 
 willing or unfaithful wives?" 
 
 Meantime the galleries of the huts were packing with dark, 
 sinister groups, but none had ventured to descend to the 
 ground. 
 
 Just then, however, the grim, black shape of the launch, 
 all lights out, rounded close in to shore, and loudly shrieked 
 its siren! 
 
 Instantly a pandemonium of mad terror possessed the vil 
 lagers that in a moment would have resulted in a serious rush 
 if Morine had not promptly directed Ishmael to order all 
 within their huts, there to stay if they would save their lives. 
 
 And so badly was the old Saligan himself startled that he 
 issued and enforced the order without question. 
 
 Called by his chief, up came Tony to take command of* the 
 center, instructed under no circumstances to fire unless ab 
 solutely forced to it. 
 
 Then turning to Ishmael, Morine ordered," I would see the 
 mighty Linta. Lead me to him." 
 
 For a moment the Saligan scowled and shook his head, his 
 brown talons nervously clutching and opening. 
 
 Recognizing the crisis, Morine quietly remarked, 
 
 "None of that, old vulture; none of that. I know you and 
 you know me. Lead me to Linta, unless you prefer to follow 
 him. And now that Linta is gone your people need you, and 
 I, too, need you." 
 
 "You, Mergan?" 
 
 "Yes, I but lead, lead!" 
 
 Whereupon, moved by mystification more than fear, Ish- 
 
 [168]
 
 SLAIN LIKE GOLIATH BY A PUNY HAND 
 
 mael turned to the casa grande, and he and Morine climbed 
 its rickety steps. 
 
 Dawn was breaking. Pale gray shafts of light stealing be 
 tween the loosely placed nipa leaves that walled the harem, 
 dimly illumined the interior. 
 
 And there in the center of its principal room, wrapped in 
 spotless linen and resting for the last time on his favorite 
 mat, lay the body of the doughty Linta ! 
 
 A kris blow through the center of his displaced ear had near 
 ly severed his head! 
 
 Strange, indeed, is destiny! 
 
 There lay Linta the mighty, the most redoubtable warrior 
 of all the Moro chiefs, slain like Goliath by a puny hand! 
 
 And there grouped close around him, dutifully sobbing and 
 tearing their hair, crouched his wives and concubines, to the 
 number of twenty or more, all dutifully if not brokenheart- 
 edly mourning their departed lord! While the rest of the 
 great room was an indescribable tangle of howling children, 
 of all ages and hues, who were the seed of Linta s loins ! 
 
 A glance sufficed Morine; and as he signed to Ishmael to 
 withdraw, he said to himself, "Deeply indebted to that young 
 Monobo lady ; have to look her up ; nothing short of a medal 
 ought to be coming to her." 
 
 Returned to his men, Morine ordered, "Tony, down there 
 by the river, just behind those huts, is a young Monobo 
 slave girl, buried in the ground to her neck to starve a little 
 brown Santa Glaus who has earned our undying gratitude 
 by bringing death to Linta." 
 
 "The little peach!" Trigg interrupted; "but how did she 
 manage it, Joe?" 
 
 "Easy; one swipe of a kris split that funny ear and nearly 
 bit his head off. But move along with a detail of your ter 
 riers; it s up to us to save her." 
 
 "One man will do, Joe; they re all sticking tight to their 
 huts as do the leeches to our ankles." 
 
 "Bueno, lad, but be careful."
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 As Trigg signed to one of his men to follow and strode swift 
 ly away, Morine addressed Ishmael: 
 
 "Old graybeard, you know that Linta has been conspiring 
 with Telecoco against the Mergans. It must stop. The Talk 
 er to Alligators and Turner of Himself into Serpents is a 
 prisoner on the launch, bound like the slave he is. To Cota- 
 bato he goes. There he shall be my slave. I have put Datu 
 Dikaya as ruler over his district. Lucky for Linta he is dead, 
 else he, too, should be my slave." 
 
 "Ha, Mergan, but you d have first to take him." 
 
 "Sure; but that would be as easy as now to take you, old 
 raider. Only I don t want you. You, better than any one, 
 can control Linta s Maratuns and you shall, as Datu of all 
 Linta s people." 
 
 "But, r Mergan " 
 
 "No buts about it, Ishmael. You re Datu, or you die; I ll 
 never waste time enslaving you. Stop the marauding of the 
 Maratuns, keep peace in your district, and little will I inter 
 fere with you but when I tell you any practices or people 
 are to be blotted out, it s blot for you, pronto, or yourself be 
 blotted!" 
 
 Unblinking, the two stood glaring into each others eyes for 
 some seconds, when Morine, become impatient, sharply ex 
 claimed, "Well, Ishmael, is it yes or no?" 
 
 "Yes," simply answered the old Saligan. 
 
 "Good," finished Morine, "and I shall trust you until I 
 find you no longer deserve it." 
 
 [ 170]
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 SAVED BY ESA S IVORY TEETH 
 
 Proceeding to the rescue of the buried Monobo girl who had 
 dealt death to Datu Linta, Captain Tony Trigg and the one 
 man of his command he took with him quickly disappeared 
 from the sight of their mates behind the huts indicated by 
 Morine. 
 
 His man was armed with the regulation army rifle and wore 
 a bolo in his belt, but Trigg carried, by preference, the light 
 and handy little .32 calibre Winchester carbine that bumps 
 its quarry harder than a .44, while on his left hip swung his 
 bolo and low on the right dangled a readily handled .45, the 
 flap of whose holster had been liberally amputated no fool 
 regulation buttoned flaps, that get men killed by clubs, for 
 him; such he left to tenderfeet and doughboys. 
 
 Come to the narrow strip of land that lay between the huts 
 and the bank of the Degao, Trigg passed through a clump of 
 platanos that hid him from the launch, and thence prowled 
 along the stream. 
 
 Ha! There she must be! 
 
 That little pyramid of black loam, there ahead in the grass, 
 must surely be from the narrow hole dug by order of the Kali 
 for her living grave! 
 
 On bounded Trigg. 
 
 Yes, there she was, at his feet, buried standing upright, the 
 heavy, wet loam tramped tightly over her shoulders and 
 around the base of her slender, graceful neck! 
 
 In mingled wonder and horror, the auburn-haired stalwart 
 stood gazing at Esa, for, of course, it was she. 
 
 Her beautiful, pale brown face, much lighter of color than 
 are the faces of many Spaniards, was wet with the heavy 
 dew, while through her great masses of raven black hair the 
 dewdrops, lighted by the early morning sun, glistened like 
 gems.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 The face was perfectly composed, still. 
 
 No lines of hatred distorted it. 
 
 No hint of terror shone in the big black oriental eyes. 
 
 Here was resignation, the resignation to the inevitable of 
 the savages whose hard lives teach them the folly of long 
 kicking against unavoidable pricks. 
 
 But she suffered; that the swelling, writhing muscles of her 
 neck showed. 
 
 Long she looked up at Tony Trigg, while he stood, shocked 
 to inactivity, nodding his auburn curls in commiseration. 
 
 Presently she spoke to him, in the soft labials of her native 
 Monobo tongue and in tones sweet and low as those of her 
 dearly-loved kuteebapee. 
 
 But Tony did not understand her. 
 
 Then she tried Moro, but with no better result. 
 
 Finally she murmured in Spanish, 
 
 "Tu vengas de Dewata, no, Dios Esplendido?" "Thou comest 
 from Dewata, dost thou not, Splendid God?" 
 
 Rousing from his stupor, Tony gently answered, 
 
 "Don t know your friend Dewata, little one; Joe sent me." 
 
 "Oh! Oh! Then you must be a Mergan, Son of Fire!" 
 
 "Yes, a Mergan, right-o, little beauty; and you re near 
 right on your finish; some that know me call me son of a 
 gun/" and Tony grinned good-naturedly. 
 
 "Ha! A Mergan. Well, Mergan, it is good to have seen 
 you. Now I know what the gods will be like." 
 
 Then a swift shadow of weariness swept across the little 
 face, the big eyes lifted again to Tony, and she softly whis 
 pered, 
 
 "Kill me, Mergan. Soon the sun will be terrible, and this 
 wet, black soil is crushing me. Kill me now, Mergan!" 
 
 "Kill you, beauty! Well, Tony Trigg will take a hell of a lot 
 of killing himself before anybody gets to hurt you again." 
 
 And as, at a sign from him, Tony and his man dropped to 
 their knees and began tearing the heavy loam off her shoul 
 ders with their naked hands, the blue eyes were filled with 
 tears.
 
 SAVED BY ESA S IVORY TEETH 
 
 But the two had so worked hardly more than a minute when 
 Esa s voice rose in a shriek. 
 
 "Los Moros! Mergans, losMoros!" 
 
 Seizing their guns, both bounded to their feet. 
 
 And none too soon. 
 
 Literally leaping upon them were two practically naked 
 Moros, lithe and shifty as panthers, one with a great broad 
 campilan blade poised, the other gripping a short kris of dag 
 ger length. 
 
 Whence come and wherefore? 
 
 Plainly from the nearby huts doubtless inspired by ha 
 tred of dogs of unbelievers who should dare to interfere with 
 the punishment of their Datu s murderess and greedy of 
 what looked such an easy chance to cut them down. 
 
 Esa s cry had saved them, at least momentarily. 
 
 But there was no shell in the barrel of Tony s carbine and 
 the safety clip was on the soldier s rifle ! 
 
 Just a miserable, tiny second would suffice to load and cock 
 the carbine or shift the rifle s safety clip, but they lacked it. 
 
 Even a half-second would have served to allow Tony to 
 drop carbine and snatch his .45, or the soldier to jerk his bolo, 
 but not even a half-second was theirs. 
 
 The Moros were upon them ! 
 
 On his rifle, raised as for broad-sword defense, the soldier 
 received the campilan blade. 
 
 Smash on the skull of the other Moro fell the barrel of Tony s 
 carbine, but so light was the arm and so short the wrist 
 stroke which was all he had time for that Tony s foe was only 
 momentarily staggered. 
 
 Crouching, springing, side-stepping, leaping in and out, but 
 ever pressing deadly close, round Tony the dagger-bearing 
 Moro circled like a mad human whirlwind, playing all the 
 time for the Moro s favorite disemboweling stroke. 
 
 Back at him fought Tony the best he could. But that, at 
 best, was poor. 
 
 Hand-to-hand, the Moro has terrible advantage. 
 
 Indeed, Tony s best, at the moment, was to keep his body 
 
 [173]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 bent nearly double, to try to save the stomach from the 
 Moro s searching kris, and to hold him off with short jabs 
 and swats with the carbine barrel, into none of which did he 
 have time to put the swing needful to be disabling. 
 
 And the soldier was powerless to come to Tony s aid, for 
 round his head the great two-handed campilan blade was 
 flaming like sheet lightning. 
 
 Neither sought to yell for help doubtless because neither 
 dared to spend his fast failing breath. 
 
 Never were tortured souls in Hades more hopeless of escape 
 from its relentless demons. 
 
 On and on they fought over the short grass, often all but 
 stepping on Esa s unprotected head, ever so hard pressed 
 that a reach for their side arms would be fatal. 
 
 And fortunate, indeed, it was for Tony that none of the mad 
 swirls of this maelstrom of savage battle carried them away 
 from her. 
 
 For he was weakening fast ripped through the side, slash 
 ed deep in the chest, slit through the cheek. 
 
 Each fresh spurt of blood from his wounds was taking ghastly 
 heavy toll of his energies. 
 
 Presently he slipped, lost his poise and staggered, wildly 
 swinging his arms to recover himself. 
 
 His guard was gone, only for an instant, to be sure, but that 
 instant inevitably fatal. 
 
 Nothing but a miracle could save him. 
 
 But the miracle materialized. 
 
 And, incidentally, it left Tony indebted to Esa for his life. 
 
 Shifting position for the spring to take advantage of the 
 opening for a swift disemboweling kris stroke, his enemy s 
 foot landed close to Esa s face. 
 
 Seizing the opportunity, the otherwise utterly helpless maid, 
 hyper-alert of the training of her jungle life, sank her ivory- 
 white teeth so deeply in the Moro s ankle that he shrieked 
 with the pain of it, and, in tearing himself free, leaped so far 
 aside that Tony had time to recover his guard!
 
 SAVED BY ESA S IVORY TEETH 
 
 But the respite was only momentary; back prodding and 
 slashing at him came the Moro. 
 
 Something must be done. And only some unusual strategy, 
 some defense untaught in any of the drill manuals, could save 
 him. And, happily, his extremity inspired him to pick a win 
 ner. 
 
 Contriving to give the Moro a jab in the chest with the car 
 bine that shoved him back a couple of steps, Tony dropped 
 to earth on the flat of his back, both feet raised and knees 
 bent. 
 
 At his recumbent enemy the Moro sprang, grinning certain 
 victory, but only to receive a violent kick in the pit of the 
 stomach that hurled him ten feet away, crashing into the legs 
 of the other Moro and bowling him over just in the nick of 
 time to succour the soldier. 
 
 For an instant before the heavy campilan blade had shorn 
 through the soldier s wrist and rifle stock, leaving one arm 
 handless and the other stockless, and was raising for a finish 
 ing stroke ! 
 
 But Tony s strategy sufficed. 
 
 Two snap shots from his .45 piled the pair atop of his bleed 
 ing comrade! 
 
 And then, notwithstanding the great blood red tropical sun 
 was already blazing aloft of the platanos, for Tony trie morn 
 ing faded to black night.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 A MIRACLE OF A PILLOW 
 
 Wherever in the world was he? 
 
 Never in his remarkably adventurous life had Tony Trigg 
 been so puzzled. 
 
 Still too weak to lift an eyelid, of the loss of blood that had 
 licked the Moro s kris, nevertheless his brain was clearing. 
 
 Wherever in the world was he, and how had he gotten there? 
 
 Certainly he was at sea, in some small boat, lazily rocking 
 on low, short swells. 
 
 Gently, oh! so very, very gently, his head was rising and 
 sinking, rising and sinking with the lifting and the dipping 
 of the bow. 
 
 What could it mean, when the last he could remember was 
 dropping, spent of his wounds, on the bank of the Degao, 
 near to the buried Monobo girl? 
 
 Ah! that wonderful little wild girl! He owed her his life 
 if, indeed the boat that now bore him was not traversing the 
 S.tyx! 
 
 But, presently, his strength slowly returning, feebly his lids 
 lifted and then his wonder grew. 
 
 Yes, there could be no doubt. There directly aloft of him 
 broad leaves of the platanos were idly swaying yes, and 
 higher still were the fronds of palms. 
 
 However the devil could platanos and palms be rising out 
 of rocking waters? 
 
 Well, no matter how they came there. It was enough that 
 they reassured him he was still in the land of the living. 
 
 For surely no nourishing plant life is reflected from the 
 murky current of the River of Death! 
 
 Queerest thing ever, Tony thought. 
 
 Still, evenly, regularly, his head was rising and sinking with 
 the lifting and the dipping of the bow, as the boat rode the 
 low swells and slid into the shallow hollows.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And yet there above him towered the platanos and the palms ! 
 
 But was human head ever so delightfully pillowed? Cer 
 tainly his had never been. 
 
 A downright miracle of a pillow was his. 
 
 It was so soft, so very, very soft, and warm, blood warm, 
 just like burning, hungry human flesh, and yes, he was sure 
 he could not be mistaken damp, yes, it was damp ! 
 
 But such a sweet pillow, and so soft he did not mind its 
 dampness. 
 
 And then he began to worry. Perhaps, indeed, he was dead. 
 Whatever but a downy cloud could be so very soft? But the 
 palms and platanos? 
 
 Why, the Mohammedans believe the abode of their Allah is 
 beside palm-bordered Celestial Pools ; if such their Heaven, 
 why not his? 
 
 Dead? Yes, he must be dead. 
 
 Surely none but the waves of Celestial Pools could lift and 
 dip so very gently. 
 
 Ah! but what was that? Something tenderly brushed his 
 brow, paused and lightly toyed with his auburn curls, toyed 
 so lightly it could be nothing but a celestial zephyr. 
 
 But no, look, he must look. Were not those tiny brown 
 fingers that appeared for an instant before his eyes, and then 
 were gone? 
 
 Ha! that was better. Angels are white, not brown sport 
 wings, not fingers! 
 
 But he must look! 
 
 And when, after a mighty effort, he managed to turn his 
 head, it was to lay his cheek upon the other of a pair of naked , 
 moist breasts, so nearly over the heart that its strong throbs 
 told him he was listening to warmly pulsing life! 
 
 Ha! that was the best of all; that would do. 
 
 Only the listening living can hear pulsing life! 
 
 Someone was holding him, some woman pillowing his head 
 upon her bosom! 
 
 Could it be his adored Ruth? Of course. Who else could so
 
 A MIRACLE OF A PILLOW 
 
 tenderly mother him? And yet the fingers were brown, and 
 how had he gotten back to Cotabato? 
 
 But the mental strain and the moving of his head had been 
 too much for him, and again the light faded and left all the 
 world dark to Tony Trigg. 
 
 [179]
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 Shortly the dull-red Mindanao sun would sink into the 
 farther of the rice paddys that had been Datu Linta s. 
 
 Acting Governor Joseph Morine had just finished a final 
 conference with the dead Datu s head Saligan, now by Mor- 
 ine s decree become the Datu Ishmael. 
 
 For Morine it had been a very anxious as well as a busy day, 
 for he loved the rollicking, devil-may-care Tony Trigg. The 
 red blood that makes eager, stubborn battlers such as were 
 they, pulses from hearts that rarely bestow any but abiding 
 affections. Win them once, and you ve got them for all time, 
 so they receive a fair measure of the affection they give and a 
 fidelity ecjual to theirs. But mind you don t give short meas 
 ure, or trifle! 
 
 Throughout the day, Tony s life-light had been flickering 
 feebly, all but out. 
 
 At sound of the two pistol shots that had dispatched the 
 Moros, Morine had raced to Tony with a detail of men. 
 
 The soldier was past help. From the artery of his severed 
 wrist, the last drops of his life were ebbing. 
 
 Tony lay unconscious, blood streaming from his side and 
 chest, his cheek badly slashed. 
 
 As Morine bent over him and thumbed his pulse, a soft 
 voice almost under his feet lisped, "Sacame, Mergan! Sa- 
 came pronto! 
 
 "Puedo Salvarle!" "Pull me out, Mergan! Pull me out 
 quick! I can save him!" 
 
 Mindful only of Tony, he had all but stepped on the buried 
 Monobo girl, Datu Linta s slayer. 
 
 For some moments Morine stood looking down in wonder 
 and pity at the beautiful brown face, now splashed with 
 Tony s blood. 
 
 Then he gravely smiled and said, "Well, little one, I owe 
 
 [181]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 you freedom, anyway and a lot more," and set his men 
 loosening with their bayonets the heavy black loam that en 
 tombed her, himself turning to Tony. 
 
 But directly again the girl spoke, "Quick, Mergan, make 
 them work quick; I can save him/ 
 
 Doubtful, but humoring her, Morine ordered his men to 
 hustle, and then said in English, "Ah, ha! you little pagan; 
 you think you have some cunning heathen medico tricks up 
 up where your sleeve ought to be. Perhaps; let s see," adding 
 in Spanish, "What s your name, and why do you think you 
 can save him?" 
 
 "Esa is a medicine woman," she simply replied. 
 
 "Well, Miss Esa, medicine baby would describe you bet 
 ter, and you must have begun your medical studies at your 
 mother s breast at that if you really know anything about it. 
 But God knows we need you, for poor Tony looks past sav 
 ing." 
 
 "Fetch water, fire and green bamboo, Mergan," she ordered. 
 
 "Right-o, Miss Medico," he answered; and when they ar 
 rived, again she sharply ordered, "Fill the bamboo with 
 water and put it in the fire to boil and you wash his wounds, 
 Mergan." 
 
 "Well, I ll be d-d," Morine commented; "regular little 
 colonel, all but the eagles and the sword belt! Wonder 
 whether she s a grad. of West Point, Sandhurst or St. Cyr!" 
 but got busy fast enough. 
 
 But when finally they lifted her from the muck of her living 
 tomb, O pity of pities! nor hand nor foot could the brave 
 little one lift! 
 
 "Lay me beside the Son of Fire," she ordered. 
 
 "Lay you where?" Morine asked. 
 
 "Beside him" fixing her big almond eyes on Tony. 
 
 "Oh, I see; that s it. Well, if you only knew it, Son of a .45 
 would suit him better, and God grant he comes around to 
 use one again." 
 
 Hard she struggled, but the best she could manage was to 
 lay her tiny fingers on Tony s great hand.
 
 THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 "Now, Mergan," she called, "open my waist cloth and you 
 will find medicine. Quick! But quick!" 
 
 Springing at her will, Morine lifted several tiny packets 
 wrapped in leaves, when she cried, "That one; that flat one. 
 Open, and rub the balsam on his wounds." 
 
 And while he was so engaged, yet again she ordered, "Your 
 men; make one put half the herb in that round packet in the 
 hot water." 
 
 Shortly, under the healing influence of the balsam, blood 
 flow stopped. 
 
 And when, half an hour later, after some of the cooled po 
 tion from the bamboo tube had been trickled down Tony s 
 throat and color began to show in his face and his pulse to 
 strengthen, Morine remarked: 
 
 "Well, Miss Esa, you re a brick! But at which the best 
 brick I can t decide. Don t know whether to recommend you 
 to the General for a colonelcy in the Constabulary or for 
 Chief of the Department Medical Corps!" 
 
 But since the observation was in English, Esa remained 
 ignorant of the compliment. 
 
 Meantime, circulation returning to her long-prisoned limbs, 
 Esa began to regain control of them, but still she, too, had to 
 be carried when Tony was taken on a stretcher into the shade 
 of platanos and palms abreast of the launch. 
 
 And there beside him throughout the livelong day she had 
 reclined, pillowing his head on her breast, giving him of her 
 potion now and then, brushing away the flies and thinking 
 ah, none but Dewata himself could tell the mad thoughts 
 seething in the brain of this youthful adept in His service, or 
 whether they had been inspired entirely by Tony s auburn 
 curls or by the desperate battle in which she had seen him 
 fall victor. 
 
 Nor respecting their safety had Morine been taking any 
 chances; fearful that some of Linta s Maratuns might seek 
 to revenge themselves upon the pair responsible for the 
 death of the Datu and two of their fellow-believers, around 
 them all day he maintained a heavy guard of constabulary. 
 
 [183]
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 THE MEETING OF ESA AND RUTH 
 
 When, just at sundown of the day of Tony s battle on the 
 bank of the Degao, Morine headed his launch for Cotabato, 
 he was very content with himself. 
 
 The conspiring of the Datus had received a heavy jolt, suf 
 ficient to lighten his anxieties respecting them for the pres 
 ent. Telecoco, the Talker to Alligators, remained below 
 bound to a locker; Linta, he of the displaced ear, was now 
 also below below sod, in safe storage where he could bother 
 nobody and nobody but Balbal could bother him. 
 
 And Tony was resting easily out there under the awning in 
 the bow, his curls still pillowed on Esa s breast. 
 
 It really seemed that the girl had saved him, brought him 
 back from the edge of the grave. Her balsams had worked so 
 magically that no inflammation of the wounds had develop 
 ed, and her herb potion was holding down his temperature 
 effectively. He had regained consciousness, but now was 
 sleeping quietly. 
 
 Morine and Catron marvelled. Old campaigners as they 
 were, they had never seen the like of it. Here was crude sur 
 gery that beat all the epauletted ethical sawbones. With the 
 best of them, Tony would now be tossing with fever. 
 
 But Morine was worrying as well as marvelling at the mo 
 ment. 
 
 "Catron, if it had not been downright inhuman, I d have 
 left that Monobo girl behind." 
 
 "But why, Joe? You certainly owe her the pacification of 
 Linta and we all owe her the saving of Tony s life." 
 
 "Simply because it strikes me she spells a certain legacy of 
 trouble for Tony, and very possibly of danger for Ruth 
 Snell." 
 
 "Shoo; nonsense," answered the less-observing Catron. 
 
 "But look at her, man, out there still holding his head. She s
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 not left him a second since we dug her out of her grave. She s 
 mad about him. Our big blond men are ever deadly fascinat 
 ing to these dusky daughters of the Islands ; and when one 
 battles for any of them grandly as did he for her why, good 
 God, man, don t you realize that she s his slave for life? 
 Many are the trifling civilized women who d be forgetting it 
 and be playing all sorts of false tricks in a few months, but a 
 savage girl, never." 
 
 "Well, I must say there s a lot of sense in what you say, 
 but" 
 
 "Sense, Catron! It s law, a downright law, I tell you. And 
 it s one of the anomalies of life, if you ask me. Think of it. 
 The native tongue of that Monobo girl holds no words that 
 signify either Love or Fidelity, as do none of the languages of 
 any of the primitive races, and yet, by the Eternal, you ll 
 find more abiding love and fidelity among savage than among 
 civilized women. 
 
 "Love! That girl Esa don t know what love means. She 
 just wants a man, and when she gets him she wants she d d 
 well sticks. And for any she don t want who try to get gay 
 with her, it s mind your eye, and mind it a-plenty, take my 
 word. 
 
 "Why, Linta is not the first lover s scalp that youngster has 
 literally hung in her belt. Today Ishmael told me she s the 
 one who poisoned old Wa-Tu, after he won her off Ina na 
 Manuk in a cock fight and tried to elevate her to the queen- 
 ship of his harem." 
 
 "You don t mean it!" Catron cried in astonishment. 
 
 "But I do. She s a very remarkable girl, for a pagan. Ish 
 mael tells me she s the daughter of the Lukus and Ingorandy 
 of one of the Monobo clans, wised by her father in all their 
 tribal lore, and shrewd old Ina na Manuk has coached her in 
 the Koran and the Luwaren until she s fit to trot the Pun- 
 ditas and Kalis an intellectual heat doubtless did it to add 
 to her value, make her fetch a bigger price from some rich 
 shorter of a harem. And Ishmael says Ina na Manuk soaked 
 Linta a-plenty." 
 
 [186]
 
 THE MEETING OF ESA AND RUTH 
 
 "Why, if you re right all round," Catron commented, "she s 
 a positive danger. What II you do with her?" 
 
 "Well, I think I ll take her to my quarters, and then put in 
 my spare time hoping she don t poison me for keeping her 
 from constant attendance on Tony." 
 
 "But why don t you take the poison away from her?" 
 
 "Because I can t tell which is which of the contents of that 
 medicine bag she wears in her waist cloth, and she seems to 
 be as great at curing as at killing. And what s the use, any 
 way, when there s always a bolo handy!" 
 
 It was about an hour after sunrise, just as the launch was 
 rounding to at Cotabato, that Tony roused, strengthened by 
 his sleep, but still very weak. 
 
 The tired girl was drowsing, her beautiful face bent low over 
 his, a cool, brown hand resting lightly on his forehead. 
 
 Roused by his slight movement, Esa awakened, and gazed 
 anxiously down into the big sky-blue eyes, keen as a mother 
 after a night of care over a suffering child. 
 
 The blue eyes smiled up at her and Tony whispered, 
 
 "So? It s you that s been on guard. Gracias, gordita, 
 Thanks, little plump one." 
 
 Instantly the great almond eyes, glistening like black dia 
 monds, were dancing with joy, and she answered : 
 
 "Safe! You ll live, Son of Fire; I see it in your eyes. But 
 don t talk." 
 
 Hurrying ashore and learning that the post surgeon was 
 down of a bad fever, Morine called to Catron, "Captain, take 
 a detail of men and see Tony safely in hospital, and tell the 
 hospital steward to do nothing but give him the lightest 
 nourishment, not to monkey with his wounds, for these pa 
 gan dressings are doing the healing trick too well to be shift 
 ed." 
 
 But when he directed Esa to follow him, for a time it seemed 
 that nothing short of force would tear her from Tony. And 
 when he persisted, wildly the black eyes roved, as if in search 
 of some weapon. Indeed, only was she persuaded to come
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 with him when he assured her that shortly she would again 
 see her patient. 
 
 Rapidly he marched to the quarters of Ruth Snell, the next 
 set beyond his own, to break to her the news of Tony s in 
 jury. 
 
 Like all tropic dwellers, she was up with the sun, and now 
 seated on the gallery, enjoying the cool morning breeze. 
 
 As he approached, the tall, lean figure rose and her big, 
 violet eyes smiled calmly down at him as she greeted : 
 
 "Ah, so you are safely returned from your expedition, Gov 
 ernor?" 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Snell," Morine answered; "Back, 
 yes, but Tony " 
 
 "What, is Captain Trigg injured?" she quietly interrupted; 
 "not seriously, I trust." 
 
 Shivering a bit at her cool self-possession, he replied, "No, 
 he s not in a serious condition now, Miss Snell. He had the 
 closest call ever, but now I think he is out of danger, thanks 
 to the heathen surgery of this pagan slave girl." 
 
 "A pagan slave girl! What can she know of the art of heal 
 ing?" 
 
 "Well, not much, perhaps, but enough to save a man from 
 wounds that would have overtaxed the best skill of most sur 
 geons, in my opinion." 
 
 "Upon my word. That is indeed remarkable," and Ruth 
 shifted her steady gaze to Esa, who stood before her in all 
 the glory of exquisitely rounded shoulders, impudently pout 
 ing breasts and swelling limbs, naked but for the short tunic 
 that scarcely reached her knees, black blotches of Tony s 
 blood still dotting her face and arms. 
 
 Just as steadily Esa gazed up at Ruth, her big almond eyes 
 narrowed with suspicion, wondering what she could be to 
 Tony, for already Esa had come to recognize the name his 
 friends gave him. But presently her eyes opened and soften 
 ed of the subtle deduction she was quick to draw that no 
 woman to whom Tony meant anything could hear of his 
 hurts and stay so cold and still. 
 
 [188]
 
 THE MEETING OF ESA AND RUTH 
 
 Typical products of The Stone Age and The Gold Age con 
 fronted each other. 
 
 The passionless daughter of the snows looked down upon 
 her hot-blooded sister of the jungle! 
 
 The one the victim of her father s brutal greed, the other 
 the very best her father s savage solicitude could make her! 
 
 And how Nature itself had been kinder to Esa than to Ruth ! 
 
 Above, on the gallery, stood Ruth, immaculate in a beautiful 
 gown of some soft, clinging white stuff, a blue ribbon at her 
 throat, her coldly beautiful face and head framed in great 
 masses of lovely golden hair but flat and drearily unac- 
 centuated of figure as a rice paddy. 
 
 Below, on the ground, stood Esa, nigh naked, dirty, her wild 
 black locks shockingly tousled, but owning a riotous wealth 
 of beauty of face and body that would make even the Sphinx 
 turn its head in intoxicated contemplation of her every 
 graceful movement. 
 
 "Such a distressingly dirty little heathen!" Ruth presently 
 observed. 
 
 "Yes, but you see she s not taken the time to fuss with her 
 toilet since Tony was hurt yesterday morning. Hasn t left 
 his side for an instant, until just now, since sunup yesterday." 
 
 "Indeed; quite a remarkable little person, isn t she?" 
 
 "Well, I fancy you ll be sure of it when you come to learn 
 her story, but I ve not time for that now. And, by the way, I 
 suppose you ll go directly up to Tony at the hospital?" 
 
 "Why, no, Governor, I don t see how I can, until the after 
 noon. You see it s time for my morning class," Ruth indif 
 ferently answered; "I suppose the hospital steward will be 
 looking after him." 
 
 Whereupon Morine turned and strode nervously toward 
 his quarters, angrily muttering to himself: 
 
 Jesus, look up that Snell girl s family tree and I ll bet you ll 
 find it loaded with icicles! She frappes me from the knees 
 up every time I get near her. Poor Tony! Cold-decked in 
 the chilliest she freeze-out game I ever saw ! How in hell can 
 he stand it?" 
 
 [189]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Just as they reached his quarters, he laid his hand gently 
 on Esa s tousled head and gravely murmured, "Little wom 
 an, you re worth a million of her; in a race with her for any 
 real man, my money would go on you, but I m far from sure 
 you ve done Tony a good turn by saving him." 
 
 Having consigned Esa to the care of his native servants, 
 the dog-tired Governor dropped into a long lounge chair for 
 a doze, but before closing his eyes he growled : 
 
 "Beats hell that the higher civilization rarely manages to 
 produce more than two types of women one with so few 
 nerves they re impossible, the other with more nerves than 
 it s ever comfortaole to live with!" 
 
 [190]
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 ESA WANTS THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 When, shortly before tiffin, Morine took Esa, now neatly 
 habited as a Moro girl, up to the hospital, to administer to 
 Tony another dose of her marvellous potion, he found the 
 patient resting easily. 
 
 Immediately they arrived and before Morine had time to 
 speak, Tony anxiously asked: 
 
 "But Ruth, have you not told Ruth?" 
 
 "Sure, Tony; the first thing this morning, while you were 
 being carried up here." 
 
 "My God, but she must have the fever; she has not been up 
 to see me." 
 
 "On the contrary, Tony, she s well; never better," answered 
 Morine, with a shadow of a cynical smile. 
 
 "Strange, then, that she does not come to me. Do you know 
 why, Joe?" 
 
 "Why, Tony, she said it was the hour for her class and 
 she d" 
 
 "Well, PII be d d! Her class? And that s keeping her from 
 me, when I m brought in about the most finished article of 
 human hash that Moro had time to turn me into!" 
 
 And then, turning his head feebly and looking up at Esa, 
 he added, "Well, you re here, my lovely little doctor, and I 
 guess it s up to me to thank you that I am here. Isn t that 
 right, Joe?" 
 
 "Absolutely right, my boy," answered Morine; "it would 
 have been The Dead March and a volley across a grave for 
 you but for this little pagan." 
 
 "Just as I thought; and do you know, Joe, that makes the 
 second time she s saved my life; for in the fight I lost my 
 balance, and my guard with it, but when the Moro threw a 
 foot back for a spring to finish me, that girl s teeth nipped 
 his ankle so hard that I had time to recover my guard." 
 
 [191]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Well, well, Tony," responded Morine, "that leaves it 
 horse and horse between you and the girl, for you certainly 
 saved her life as much as she saved yours. Had the Moro 
 finished you, he surely would have killed her. So forget it; 
 just d d well forget it." 
 
 Again Tony s eyes lifted to Esa, who throughout the con 
 versation had been gazing at him fixedly, and as he looked 
 at her his face lighted with a sense of gratitude that was so 
 nearly merged into actual tenderness that in an instant the 
 
 firl s face was all aglow with joy and she dropped on her 
 nees beside him and seized his hand and pressed it to her 
 breast. 
 
 Then, looking up at Morine, she said, "Saved; he s saved; 
 Esa told you, Mergan, she d save him." 
 
 "Yes, little one," Morine answered, "you have certainly 
 made your word good most handsomely. Pero olivdale cbica 
 forget it, little one. He saved you and you saved him, so 
 you re quits, you re even, no?" 
 
 "Ah, yes, Mergan; the Son of Fire saved Esa. Ha, you 
 should have seen how he fought! Forget it, Mergan? Per 
 haps Esa may forget it when she s dead, but not before. But 
 for Esa he would be dead the alligators would be eating 
 him that makes him Esa s. Esa wants the Son of Fire. No 
 one can take him from Esa. Esa is his slave. Esa will kill for 
 him will kill herself if he orders it." 
 
 The tones of Esa s voice as she lisped her thought in broken 
 Spanish, were low and sweet and musical as ever, but they 
 rung with a firmness that spelled such finality of purpose 
 that Morine remarked to Tony in English : 
 
 "Here s a big order for you, my boy, a heavy responsibility. 
 I hope you will deal with it justly and discreetly. Doubtless 
 you will agree it would be best that she be sent directly to 
 another station." 
 
 "Why, Joe, I suppose you re right. But not just now, old 
 boy, please." Adding, with a faint flicker of a smile, "You 
 see, maybe she s not quite finished my cure yet, and perhaps 
 
 [ 192]
 
 ESA WANTS THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 our sawbones would not pull me through so quickly and 
 surely." 
 
 "Right about the cure and sawbones; but if she stays, mind 
 she don t finish by killing. Pardon, old chap, but you re not 
 forgetting you ve invited Miss Snell to sit into your game of 
 life." 
 
 "Sure, Joe; no fear; I m not likely to be forgetting that." 
 
 Call for tiffin had sounded, and as Morine walked out of the 
 ward, leaving the youthful surgeon with her patient, he 
 grumbled to himself, "Fear! By the Eternal, there is no end 
 of fear fear for the life of Ruth Snell or of Tony, and prob 
 ably for them both. But that s their game." 
 
 When, an hour later, Ruth Snell entered the ward, Tony 
 was dozing lightly and Esa sat crouched beside his cot. 
 
 At Ruth s approach, he awakened, and his eyes so lighted 
 with the delight of seeing his fiancee that it brought a fierce 
 scowl on Esa s face and set her trembling. 
 
 And when, after a thoroughly kindly but altogether un 
 demonstrative greeting, Ruth reached out to smooth his pil 
 low, up sprang Esa and hissed through shut teeth : 
 
 "Dcjele! Es mio, el!" "Let him alone! He is mine!" 
 
 After looking at her a moment in quiet surprise, Ruth said : 
 "But I don t quite understand, Tony; what does this little 
 savage mean?" 
 
 "Why, Ruth, you see she s a little Monobo slave girl, con 
 demned to die by the Kali. 
 
 "She had killed the Datu Linta, to escape being forced to 
 life in his harem, and had been buried to her neck in the 
 ground to starve or die of the sun. 
 
 "Joe sent me to rescue her, and while digging her out we 
 were jumped by Moros and nearly done for. She s really a 
 wonderful little thing, and the potion and balsams she direct 
 ed Joe how to make and use have certainly pulled me through. 
 And," glancing over at Esa with an indulgent smile, "she 
 seems to have the usual professional jealousy of interference 
 with her patient." 
 
 "Ah, I see; that explains it," replied Ruth, "but really she 
 
 [193]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 looks so like a little tigress at bay in defence of her young 
 that I was almost frightened." 
 
 "Nothing to be afraid about, dear," Tony reassured her. 
 "You know the government owes her a lot for removing Datu 
 Linta from the trouble zone, and Joe swears I owe her my 
 life; and I ve been thinking, Ruth, darling, that perhaps you 
 might take her into your school. Plainly we cannot send her 
 back among the Moros, for that would be sending her to cer 
 tain death at their hands." 
 
 "Why, certainly I ll do that, Tony. And the Governor seems 
 to think she s such a very unusual girl that I think I should 
 even like to do more for her. I shall want to have her under 
 observation for a few days, of course, first; but, I think I 
 should like to adopt her to make a prolonged and persist 
 ent effort to see what can be done, what progress can be 
 made in the civilization of a virtually wild pagan. Indeed, 
 for some time I have had such a test in mind, and have only 
 been waiting to find an interesting subject for the test." 
 
 "Why, Ruth, the actual adoption of any savage girl would 
 be rather a bold experiment, would it not?" 
 
 "Yes, Tony, undoubtedly; but you know my heart is in 
 this work and I am profoundly interested to try to learn just 
 what we may expect to accomplish toward civilizing the 
 young of the wild tribes as well as of the Moros, and this can 
 only be done by prolonged control and influence of a chosen 
 subject." 
 
 "Well, darling, in any event you should think it over care 
 fully before deciding, but undoubtedly we owe her protec 
 
 tion/ 3 
 
 Then, turning to Esa, Tony said, "Esa, you will go with 
 this kind lady and will always do just what she says. She 
 will teach you to talk as we Mergans talk, and will teach 
 you to read as you have seen the Kalis and Punditas read 
 their language." 
 
 A bright smile lighted Esa s face as she answered, "But Esa 
 can read the Moro s writing and Esa knows the Koran and 
 the Luwaren; Ina na Manuk taught her."
 
 ESA WANTS THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 "The deuce you do, girl," Tony answered; "that should help 
 you to very quickly learn our tongue. And if you are always 
 careful to do just what this lady says, she will be very kind to 
 you and may teach you more." 
 
 "Esa will try, Esa knows all the magic of her people, much 
 of that of the Moros, and she would know the magic of the 
 Mergans." 
 
 "Magic, child?" interposed Ruth; "what do you mean?" 
 
 "Why the wonderful writing magic by which you put down 
 your thoughts without speaking." 
 
 Ruth s face brightened with pleasure and she said to Tony : 
 "Ah, dear, here s the very child I ve been seeking; here seems 
 to be intelligence and much more than usual willingness to 
 learn. 
 
 "But tell me, Tony, you must have suffered terribly of these 
 awful wounds." 
 
 "Why, no, Ruth, dear; scarcely any. The fact is, the Moro s 
 kris bled rne so heavily I just faded away into the happy land 
 of forgetfulness ; and Esa s medicines have so well kept down 
 inflammation and fever that since I regained consciousness 
 I ve suffered little except of the burning desire to see you, 
 darling. I sort of thought you would run to me as soon as you 
 heard I was brought in hurt. But I suppose that s unreason 
 able of me expecting too much." 
 
 But thinly veiled as was his mild chiding, it had no moving 
 effect on the lady of the snows, who had not so much as laid a 
 cool hand on his brow or even permitted her face to express a 
 shadow of concern while all the time the knitted brow, the 
 nervously playing nostrils and the fiercely intent eyes of the 
 little brown lady of the jungle that never shifted from Tony s 
 face, bespoke a heart consumed with anxiety and overflow 
 ing with love. 
 
 It was in the most casual tones that Ruth replied: 
 
 "Expecting too much? Why certainly not, Tony. Had there 
 been any pressing necessity, I should have come straightway. 
 But first, of course, is my duty to my pupils, and time was 
 coming for my morning class when the Governor brought me 
 
 [195]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 the news. And then I reasoned that since, after all, the care 
 of wounds is best left to those trained and experienced in their 
 scientific treatment, and that you were safely settled in the 
 hospital under the observation and care of its staff, you would 
 not be needing me particularly, anyway." 
 
 "Oh! And so you reasoned all that, did you, dear? Impulse, 
 no mandate of your heart, ever gets the better of that reason 
 ing machinery of yours, does it?" 
 
 "Why, certainly I hope not, my boy. How can any sound- 
 thinking being become the victim of impulse? Giving way 
 to impulse commits one to indiscretions. Order and organi 
 zation are never enjoyed by such as give way to impulses. 
 Only those who reason may so profit themselves." 
 
 "Well, dear," Tony ruefully replied, "you may be right 
 that may be the right view of life from your perch on Venus 
 or Jupiter, from whichever of the remoter planets you re look 
 ing down from. But, personally, I d trust one good, healthy, 
 athletic impulse to jump me up more joy than any thousand 
 reasons and all the order and organization they might pro 
 duce." 
 
 "Ah, there you go again, you great, raw caveman," Ruth 
 indulgently smiled. "You re incorrigible. But still your im 
 pulses I can trust, for I m sure you ll never have a bad one." 
 
 "Ha! I m not so sure of that," Tony grinned. "I m suffer 
 ing all the time from one impulse you d never approve of, 
 that may get the best of me any time once I m up and a- 
 round again." 
 
 "And what s that, boy, pray?" 
 
 "Nothing less than the impulse to seize, and kiss and crush 
 you, sweetheart, no less." 
 
 "Approve it? No, Tony, I could not, for that s about the 
 last of the stupid extravagances of impulse. Surely two peo 
 ple may esteem and ah, be fond of each other without so 
 exhausting themselves." 
 
 "Exhausting themselves! Well, Ruth, you see you never 
 tried that form of hard labor, so maybe you re wrong, maybe 
 you don t know. As for me, I d back myself to take the heav-
 
 ESA WANTS THE SON OF FIRE 
 
 iest punishment of that sort through a dozen rounds before I 
 was counted out." 
 
 And as Ruth, after pleading the call of her duties, signed to 
 Esa to follow her and turned to leave the ward, hot little 
 brown fingers crushed his hand and the great love beaming 
 from a pair of almond eyes left him no doubt where such im 
 pulses might be indulged by him without offense or stint. 
 
 And as the little brown lady of the jungle whirled and swift 
 ly followed the tall white lady of the snows, Tony shut his 
 eyes and bit his own lip. 
 
 197]
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 STRANGE WOMEN, THESE MERGANS 
 
 Her removal from the household of Governor Morine to 
 that of Ruth was little to Esa s liking. But the Son of Fire 
 had ordered it. Basta! Enough. His will was hers. 
 
 For a time it was not so very hard, so long as she was per 
 mitted to retain the loose and scant Moro costume to which 
 she had become fairly accustomed. 
 
 But when after a few weeks, indeed before Tony had suf 
 ficiently recovered from his wounds to be up and around long, 
 Esa s quick intelligence and eagerness to learn had actually 
 carried her quite to the lead of all Ruth s scholars, and finally 
 decided Ruth to put in practice her plan to adopt the girl, 
 then came serious trials. 
 
 First the dreadful Mergan clothes ! 
 
 How close and hot they were, and how the long skirts ham 
 pered the freedom of limbs that had known little more re 
 straint than those of a deer, and what terrors were the stock 
 ings, and how the shoes pinched! 
 
 And then the stifling, hot bed she was put into! How she 
 hated it! But that she could easily beat by quietly slipping 
 out of it to a mat on the floor shortly after the night s pray 
 ers were said and the lights out. 
 
 Only when she was caught, as now and then she was by the 
 inconsiderate straying in of a vagrant moonbeam before 
 Ruth had dropped asleep, then a thin, white-clad figure little 
 thicker than the meager stalk of a cana brava would come 
 across to chide her, and back into her sweat box she would 
 have to go. 
 
 But worst of all were the formalities of eating, the sitting 
 stiffly on a high chair, when all but fools and the Mergans 
 well know that it s a thousand times more comfortable to eat 
 while squatted or reclining on a nice cool mat! And the silly 
 implements the Mergans use to feed themselves, uncontent 
 
 [199]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 with the far defter fingers and generous palms by use of which 
 one may feast to surfeit in half the time! 
 
 At all this or the half of it, Esa would have rebelled for sure 
 but for two considerations: 
 
 First, that here she was farther than ever from her tree-top 
 home at the foot of Mt. Apo, and now she well knew, since 
 the slaying of Linta, in none of the intervening Moro villages 
 or rancherias could she find asylum safe from the old raider, 
 Ishmael. 
 
 And, second, that here, just here among the Mergans in 
 Cotabato, she was near to the Son of Fire, the one thing in all 
 the world she loved better than her free, wild life in the jungle. 
 
 He, the Son of Fire, had bid her do all the white lady order 
 ed. Did she less, hers might be a punishment she could never 
 stand he would certainly be angry with her. And that would 
 kill Esa. Esa wanted him, and one does not get those one 
 makes angry. Ah, yes, she must do what she was told, just 
 the same as a mandate of Dewata brought to Usup by Too- 
 mulkun and interpreted by Usup to her. 
 
 In the school she delighted. It was his tongue she was learn 
 ing to speak and the magic by which you put it down on 
 paper, only, by Munowog s big black eggs, would she ever 
 live long enough to learn that? She was afraid not. 
 
 But greatest of all her delights were the evenings Tony was 
 now spending at their house. 
 
 Ah, what a joy to see the splendid tall figure extended in one 
 of their long lounge chairs and the flaming curls resting on its 
 pillow, the curls and the beautiful head they covered that for 
 a whole day and night had not left her breast ! 
 
 Father of Alligators, but might he not send all his ugly brood, 
 to the last one, to catch and devour Esa, and welcome, so she 
 might for just one hot, sweet-scented jungle night clasp her 
 arms around the neck that held that splendid, flaming head, 
 when he should again be well and very strong and should be 
 looking down into her eyes as up into her eyes his eyes had 
 looked when the Mergan chief had taken her to see him in 
 the sick house, where they had carried him ! 
 
 [200]
 
 STRANGE WOMEN, THESE MERGANS 
 
 One such glorious night with the Son of Fire! Ah! Basta! 
 That would do. Then Esa could die happy ! 
 
 But, nevertheless, great as was her joy of his visits, always 
 did they stir in her anxieties that finally crystallized into a 
 terrible conviction. 
 
 That dreadful tongue of theirs ! Would she never learn to 
 understand it. What were they saying? They talked so much, 
 and the Son of Fire always so earnestly. Yes, and often his 
 eyes lighted while he was looking at the white lady as they 
 did when he looked up at her from his cot in the hospital. 
 
 How about that? Did he think so very much of her? No, it 
 could not be, else she would be looking at him in the same 
 way and always wanting to touch him. 
 
 And yet she never did either. 
 
 What was she, anyway? Ha ! Perhaps just a sort of human 
 vine without a grip, the sort that hangs without ever taking 
 hold. 
 
 Strange women must be these Mergans. 
 
 Fancy any woman in all the world who could receive such a 
 look from the Son of Fire and not want to touch him ! 
 
 It must be something else he cares a great deal about of 
 which he talks to her. 
 
 Perhaps it was about the school, or, maybe, about her, Esa. 
 But no. That could not be, for since he had come out of the 
 sick house, while always gentle with her, never had he so look 
 ed at Esa again. 
 
 Why not? 
 
 Ah! Now that he is so looking at the white woman it must 
 mean that the Son of Fire wants her! 
 
 But she, the white woman, cannot want him, for she never 
 so looks at him, but perhaps that is because white women do 
 not show their wants in their faces. 
 
 This is simply terrible. Esa must be very, very careful, just 
 like she was stalking a deer in the jungle, to get near enough 
 to kill it with one of her blow-gun darts. 
 
 And that white woman had best take care. 
 
 The Son of Fire should never be for her. 
 
 [201 ]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But shrewd as were most of the jungle girl s deductions, on 
 this particular evening she was altogether wide of the mark 
 on the actual subject of the conversation of Ruth and Tony. 
 
 They were talking of the school problem in general and of 
 the many always difficult and often weirdly absurd situa 
 tions it developed. 
 
 In fact, Ruth was very highly praising Esa, but alluded to 
 her so indirectly that Esa did not realize it. 
 
 "Tony," Ruth said, "I had a very bad morning at the school 
 and the truth is you came very near losing your Ruth." 
 
 "Why, however was that?" 
 
 "Well, you see I asked the Governor to keep it from you so 
 I might tell you myself. But had you been well, I should have 
 sent someone on a run to fetch you to deal with that big 
 Moro brute, Tumog." 
 
 "But for God s sake what happened, sweetheart?" 
 
 "Well, to begin, you must know that the few schools in the 
 outside districts have been getting on badly. The American 
 teachers, like myself, are totally ignorant of the Moro dia 
 lects, and the few Hindus and Armenians so employed know 
 little Moro and are wholly unfitted by experience or temper 
 to teach wild children. 
 
 "At first, the Datus and privileged class were induced to 
 send many of their children to school, but what was the re 
 sult? Their utter inability to understand what their teach 
 ers were driving at so balked and vexed the teachers that 
 they began violently beating them. Fancy it; beating chil 
 dren who had never known the weight of a finger from their 
 parents, and for no cause but the teacher s ignorance of the 
 pupil s tongue! 
 
 "Naturally, all such children were withdrawn from the 
 schools, leaving as their only pupils a few children of the 
 Moro masses and of their slaves. 
 
 "And to remedy this situation, the best the Governor could 
 do has been to persuade the Datus that, if their children do 
 not profit by attending our schools, in another generation 
 the lower class of their own people and their slaves must cer- 
 
 [ 202 ]
 
 STRANGE WOMEN, THESE MERGANS 
 
 tainly be superior to them, and that, hence, since they will 
 not let their children go to the local schools, their only chance 
 to benefit them is to send them here to Cotabato, where, 
 under the Governor s supervision, he can guarantee that 
 there shall be no bodily punishment except for gross misbe 
 havior or violence." 
 
 "Yes, I ve heard of it," interposed Tony; "and that s had 
 the result to bring into your school a lot of the children of the 
 Datus that even includes a few grown men of twenty and 
 thirty. ; 
 
 "Precisely; and it is just this which has more than doubled 
 the difficulties of my situation, because the grown and half- 
 grown are both slower to learn and harder to discipline." 
 
 "Sure; it s a mistake; yes, more, it s a shame and an outrage 
 to expect any woman teacher to receive and have to handle 
 as pupils grown Moro boys ; and it s even a danger, for such 
 young men by the custom of generations at all times wear 
 their arms." 
 
 "Quite so; and today I had to confront such an emergency 
 that was near costing me my life." 
 
 "Heavens, dear, you don t mean it! You should have sent 
 for me." 
 
 "But, first, Tony, there was no time, and, secondly, you re 
 far too weak to be excited or have your strength taxed in 
 such an emergency." 
 
 "But what was it? Tell me, dear; what happened?" 
 
 "Well, altogether the most unruly of my lot is a big, husky 
 youth of twenty, Tumog, the son of the Datu Dikaya. From 
 the first he has defied all class discipline and has constantly 
 been vexing me by disturbances of class routine. And when 
 I ve had the boy interpreter I m using advise him that he 
 must do as he is told or leave the school, he has answered that 
 he will not leave the school and will do as he pleases. 
 
 "All but Tumog and one other I had managed to persuade 
 to leave their arms off when coming to school, and these two, 
 in order to hold them under close observation, I had been 
 placing in the front row near to my desk. 
 
 [203]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "For the last two days the pair have been so ugly that this 
 morning I determined to rid myself of them, never dreaming 
 of actual violence. 
 
 "But when, through my interpreter, I ordered them to leave 
 the school and never to return to it, up sprang Tumog, draw 
 ing his kris and his eyes glaring murder." 
 
 "Great God, you don t mean it!" 
 
 "And there s no doubt I owe my life to your little brown 
 doctor. It is not often one gets such definite reward, and nev 
 er so early, of one s strivings to do good for others. 
 
 "But I m now convinced my decision to adopt that young 
 girl was no less than an inspiration from God. 
 
 "Of course, from day to day Esa has seen my difficulties with 
 Tumog and has heard his insolent and almost threatening 
 answers. And it was her vigilance and bravery that saved 
 me. 
 
 "Seated immediately behind the two armed youths, no 
 more was Tumog on his feet and lifting his kris for a spring 
 at me, than Esa snatched the kris from the waist cloth of his 
 companion and struck him. But the emergency was so great, 
 and it all had to be done so quickly that while the weight of 
 her blow stunned him, it was only a glancing stroke that 
 sheared off a half handbreadth of his scalp." 
 
 "Heavens, how fortunate! Thank God! Now we both owe 
 her our lives. That little savage is just a wonder, no less. 
 And you know, darling, I ve been thinking lately that if you 
 manage to make her like you, no danger can ever reach you 
 save over her dead body." 
 
 "Yes, Tony, I think you are right. But Esa has such a 
 frightfully uncontrollable temper that when anything rouses 
 her she sees nothing but red and stops at nothing. 
 
 "Why, do you know it took all my influence to stop her 
 from finishing Tumog right there. She was raising her kris 
 to chop his head off when I sprang at her and pushed her 
 back, at which she bounded forward, gave me a shove that 
 sent me reeling and sprang after me as if to attack me. But 
 as she got the look of utter terror that must have been in my 
 
 [204]
 
 STRANGE WOMEN, THESE MERGANS 
 
 face, Esa laughed wildly and turned and stood over her vic 
 tim, ready to deal with him. 
 
 "I then managed to control her by telling her I relied on her 
 to stand guard over him until I could get help, but that she 
 must not strike him unless he tried to rise. 
 
 "Then I rushed a messenger over to headquarters, and soon 
 the Governor was with me and had Tumog dragged away." 
 
 "And what has Joe done with that fellow Tumog?" 
 
 "Well, you see the affair did not reach an actual attack on 
 me; there was only the threat of it, and this afternoon when 
 I came back from the school I saw Tumog in leg chains under 
 guard with the other grass cutters, working on the streets. 
 As I passed him, he gave me an ugly glance that frightened 
 me but doubtless the Governor will deal with him prudent- 
 
 ly" 
 
 "No fear; he is sure to; and I also, you can depend, will have 
 a sharp eye on him." 
 
 [205]
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 A PACIFIC CONQUEST 
 
 A few days actually sufficed. 
 
 But since at all tasks he undertook Governor Morine s most 
 distinguishing trait was thoroughness, the process of hum 
 bling the pride of the Datu Telecoco was extended over sev 
 eral weeks. 
 
 The lesson must sink so deep that there should remain no 
 chance of its being forgotten. 
 
 And throughout this period, for probably the first and last 
 time in his life, the Talker to Alligators and Turner of Him 
 self into Serpents profoundly regretted the exuberant fertil 
 ity of the soil and the riotous plant growth of his native 
 valley. 
 
 At his home among his people, the miraculously fast-grow 
 ing of the crops the generous black loam of the valley pro 
 duced, meant the wearying of the backs and the sweating of 
 the skins of his people but spelled nothing but greater riches 
 and ease for the Talker to Alligators. 
 
 But now, in Cotabato as prisoner of the Mergans, the 
 
 frowth of weeds and grasses in the town streets spelled for 
 im nothing but toil, sweat and shame. 
 
 No respite was he given. 
 
 From morning till night the Turner of Himself into Ser 
 pents made one of the chain-gang constantly employed in 
 cutting the grass and cleaning the town streets. And natural 
 ly it proved to be an occupation that served to cause him to 
 shed his superfluous fat, along with the last vestiges of his 
 dignity. 
 
 To the Moros of Cotabato, the bringing of him among them 
 by the Governor occasioned no small measure of anxiety. 
 Here among them he was brought under circumstances cer 
 tain to excite his greatest anger and resentment. Naturally, 
 
 [207]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 his hatred and conspiring should be against his captors, the 
 Mergans. 
 
 But if their magic left them invulnerable to him, might he 
 not be working off on some of his own people more or less of 
 his surplus spleen? 
 
 What devilment might not this Talker to the Hungry Ones 
 put them up to? Whose blood might he not suck when he 
 turned himself into a murcielago? Into whose heels might he 
 not sink his venomed fangs when he turned himself into a 
 serpent? 
 
 Nor, as the days passed without any dire happenings of the 
 sort, was their fear of him allayed, did their dread of his super 
 natural powers lessen. 
 
 But very certain it nevertheless early became known to 
 Telecoco himself that all the weird magic that made him so 
 dreaded among the Moros, against these Mergans was pow 
 erless. 
 
 And this conclusion ceased to be a secret of his own mind 
 when, as shortly happened, he began begging cigarettes and 
 betel-nuts about the streets as might and did the meanest 
 slaves. 
 
 And why not? For doubtless Telecoco was convinced that 
 so cutting grass and sweating in the Mergan service he must 
 finish his days. But that the shrewd Governor had other plans 
 for him became apparent when, one day, he had Telecoco 
 brought before him and said : 
 
 "Well, old raider, are you still believing you can afford to 
 fight the Mergans?" 
 
 And it was with very humble downcast eyes and pitiful 
 trembling of his pendulous underlip that Telecoco answered : 
 
 "No, no, Mighty One. For, by the Prophet s beard, Teleco 
 co has not enough strength left to fight the mosquitoes off 
 his face." 
 
 "But what of your bitcharis with the alligators? Why are 
 you not playing murcielago and sucking my blood, or turn 
 ing yourself into some sort of wiggler and biting me with poi 
 soned fangs?" 
 
 [208]
 
 A PACIFIC CONQUEST 
 
 A very sheepish expression had washed most of the trucu 
 lent cunning out of the villain s face when Telecoco answered: 
 
 "By the father of alligators, Mighty One, it seems that all 
 that is only effective against my own people." 
 
 "To be sure," the Governor answered, "and it is precisely 
 because I believe it will still remain effective against your 
 people that better days are ahead for you if you will do pre 
 cisely as I tell you." 
 
 "By the Prophet s beard, Mighty One, after Allah s law and 
 will alone, next for Telecoco shall come yours." 
 
 "Very well, then I shall give you a chance to prove it. 
 
 "Tomorrow I shall take you to your rancheria and reinstate 
 you in all your privileges and powers as Datu. So restored to 
 power, I shall not interfere with any of your ancient laws or 
 tribal customs, so you keep order in your district and obey 
 me. But you must stop all marauding, whether by your own 
 people or your neighbors. If I send you word that the people 
 of any of your neighbors are vexing me, you will deal with 
 them. I shall expect you to efface them quite in your own 
 way and shall not question the means you employ to remove 
 my vexations. What do you say, old raider?" 
 
 "Mahpia pia! Very, very good, O Mighty One. Your will 
 shall be Telecoco s law. Try him." 
 
 "I understand that those who vex the Datu Telecoco seldom 
 live long; is that correct?" 
 
 The ferocity that shone from the cruel old eyes and the wicked 
 smile that distorted the mouth were a sufficient answer, but, 
 of course, on such a matter of pride the Turner of Himself 
 into Serpents very quietly answered: 
 
 "None that vex Telecoco lives, Mighty One none of his 
 own people." 
 
 The restoration of the Datu Telecoco was cause of no less 
 satisfaction to the Datu Dikaya than to Telecoco. 
 
 Dikaya had suffered more heavy demand on his diplomacy 
 and courage in the new post to which he had been elevated 
 by the Governor than his weak nature would have managed 
 
 [209]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 to much longer stand. And glad was he to return to his very 
 peaceful down-river rancheria. 
 
 Nor were Morine s theories and policy long to lack a severe 
 test. 
 
 Shortly, his spies brought Morine advice that Ishmael, whom 
 he had elevated to the Datuship of Linta s district, was run 
 ning things with a high hand. 
 
 About him he was assembling a strong force of his Maratuns 
 and boldly was he boasting that no school should be started 
 in his territory or any Mergans there establish themselves. 
 
 From all the other districts the news was good. The Datus 
 were all entirely content while let alone. Even the great Ali, 
 half-brother to Linta and of far more power and influence 
 among his people, although less aggressively warlike than 
 Linta, was expressing his entire willingness to receive the 
 teachers he had been advised would soon be sent into his 
 district. 
 
 But obviously if the battling old raider Ishmael was not 
 promptly suppressed, he would be certain to start a flame of 
 revolt against the Mergan plans that must soon sweep all 
 the neighboring districts. 
 
 Hence the Governor lost no time in sending one of his se 
 cret agents to Telecoco, with the very simple advice that the 
 Datu Ishmael and certain of the raiders among his Maratuns, 
 each of whom he named, were very seriously vexing him. 
 That was all. 
 
 But well he knew it was quite enough and also well did he 
 realize that it constituted the heaviest possible test he could 
 make of Telecoco s readiness and ability to serve him. 
 
 Ishmael and his Maratuns were the most desperate, bold 
 and bloody of all the raiders of the valley. 
 
 However, Morine felt that though probably Telecoco would 
 lack the courage to strike them openly, he would be pretty 
 sure to reach them all by one or another line of dark Oriental 
 strategy. 
 
 Nor, as it turned out, had Morine overestimated Telecoco s 
 resource! 
 
 [210]
 
 A PACIFIC CONQUEST 
 
 Very few days elapsed before Telecoco sent him word that 
 it was his pleasure to advise the Mighty One that since the 
 Datu Ishmael and nine of his Maratuns had very suddenly 
 sickened and died, it had become unnecessary to lead against 
 them the force of warriors he had been organizing to kill or 
 capture them. 
 
 Thus, very quietly and simply, Fate, acting through some 
 secret emissaries of Telecoco, whether in the form of serpents 
 or otherwise, effectively pacified, for the present at least, the 
 more turbulent of Linta s recent followers. 
 
 So it was with a very great personal satisfaction that Gover 
 nor Morine sometime later remarked to Captain Tony Trigg : 
 
 "No task in all this world is hard to do when one knows the 
 material he has to work with. 
 
 "The Commanding General distrusted my plan to hold the 
 Moros in check and extend our schools without warfare, with 
 out putting a well-organized force into the field, ready at all 
 times to swat them. Not unnaturally, for he is wholly igno 
 rant of the Moro character. 
 
 "But I know them perhaps it isn t too much to say that I 
 know them even better than they know themselves." 
 
 "You sure do know them, Joe, as does no other white man 
 in the Island. Just how long had you been here on the coast 
 when the General made you Acting Governor?" 
 
 "Three years, Tony, by turns planting here on the coast 
 and traveling freely among the Moros as a trader. 
 
 "You know they have my sympathy. It is the old story of 
 Give a dog a bad name/ from the generations of their piracy 
 that left no sailing craft safe on their seas. 
 
 "Never did the Spaniards manage to do better than to main 
 tain an insecure foothold within their fortifications at a few 
 points along the coast. 
 
 "And yet what the local government don t understand, what 
 I ve been unable to make them appreciate and believe, is that 
 the Moros were already conquered, absolutely conquered, 
 long before, many, many years before our first expedition 
 landed in Mindanao." 
 
 [211]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Conquered? These Moros conquered before we came? 
 What the devil do you mean, Joe? Why you just admitted 
 that the Spaniards were powerless against them." 
 
 "True again, Tony, and never in another thousand years 
 would the Spaniards have managed to conquer them, for 
 their coming and campaigning had for its only purpose the 
 whipping them into line as dependable tribute payers." 
 
 "But how can you say they were conquered then?" 
 
 "Their conquest, Tony, had been absolutely pacific, but 
 nevertheless I can demonstrate to you it was a completely 
 effective conquest. 
 
 "They were conquered, my boy, by the Chinese traders, 
 who many years before began sowing broadcast among them 
 the germs of the trading instinct. Out of the growth of this 
 trading instinct, as always where trade is extended among 
 warlike peoples, there arose and spread among the Moros an 
 appreciation of the far larger ease and prosperity any people 
 may gain from peace than from war. 
 
 "The more seductive luxuries the Chinese brought them, 
 the more the lands planted and tilled and the fewer the raid 
 ers living off spoils robbed from their neighbors. 
 
 "The Spaniards never knew it any more than our Govern 
 ment has come to learn it; but it is the truth that the Moros 
 had already become a peace-loving and industrial people long 
 before we came among them." 
 
 "But how the devil did you learn that?" 
 
 "I learned that, Tony, by personal observation and actual 
 experience. With none but native burden-bearers, I have for 
 three years ranged the bush and hills, never accompanied by 
 a single armed follower, received everywhere with kindness 
 and finding nowhere anything but peace and industry, with 
 the exception of their slave-raiding of the neighboring wild 
 tribes. 
 
 "Of course, it is unnecessary to say that before going among 
 them I had studied hard until I had gotten a good working 
 knowledge of the Moro language and had made myself fa 
 miliar with the Koran and the Luwaren. 
 
 [212]
 
 A PACIFIC CONQUEST 
 
 "Everywhere I went I found the Chinese; and I may say 
 now, after five years in Mindanao, I have not heard of a sin 
 gle instance of the injury or robbery of a Chino by a Moro." 
 
 "That sounds right, Joe; evidently the Chinese are safe 
 among them, but it seems to me you took crazy chances going 
 among them alone." 
 
 "Nonsense; so anybody could have gone or can go now, and 
 in any numbers, so they do not outrage Moro religion or cus 
 tom/ 
 
 "Well, Joe," spoke Captain Tony Trigg, with a grimace of dis 
 appointment, "if you re right, as I am bound to believe you 
 are, and can manage to continue bagging and training Datus 
 to do your policing, as you bagged and trained Telecoco, it 
 looks like pretty dull days ahead for the constabulary and the 
 army." 
 
 "It certainly should mean dull days for both organizations 
 but it won t. No such good luck. Neither by experience of 
 civil administration nor by knowledge of Moro character are 
 the army men who make up the majority of our local Govern 
 ment fitted for this job, and I just feel it that one day some 
 order or orders will be issued that will plunge us into warfare 
 and deluge the Island with blood." 
 
 "Ho, ho," shouted Tony jumping up and capering about 
 the room, "then will come the chance to work the cramps out 
 of my joints and wear the rust off my arms." 
 
 "Yes, Tony, your chance; but if I m not overvaluing you, 
 you will not be long sickening of your work." 
 
 [213]
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 WILD TOSSING WAVES OF LOVE 
 
 It was one of those velvet-blue Mindanao nights, the air 
 heavy with intoxicating tropical fragrance that would suf 
 fice to stir to violent indiscretion the blood of even the most 
 phlegmatic lover. 
 
 They had gone out for a stroll, Ruth and Tony. 
 
 They were alone or so at least they believed themselves 
 standing within the shadows of the platanos, where Tony had 
 so longed to have her beside him, looking out into those pearl- 
 grey mists of the river within whose seclusion he had so 
 longed to drift and drift and drift with her in a vinta. 
 
 For some time they stood within the shadows of the plata 
 nos, both silent, Ruth thinking of God knows what, Tony 
 aflame of his love for this strangely cold lady of the snows, 
 still clinging, loverlike, to the hope that one day she would 
 warm to him as he to her. 
 
 How such things happen it is given to no one to know, un 
 less perchance to that cunning Cupid from whom probably 
 no lover has yet managed to conceal any of his most secret 
 yearnings. 
 
 Perhaps it was just one of those rude impulses for which 
 Ruth had chided him, or perhaps the rash act that was to 
 serve to imperil his sweetheart had its birth in the hope that 
 it might serve to melt her frigid mood. 
 
 Whatever the inspiration of the act, it was without a word 
 or other hint of his purpose that Tony suddenly seized Ruth, 
 crushed her to his breast, passionately kissed her lips, her 
 eyes, her forehead, and buried his face in the yellow waves of 
 her hair. 
 
 Ah! at last! 
 
 So in those yellow waves happily would he drown! 
 
 But that was not to be at least not in those particular 
 waves. 
 
 [215]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 For instantly Ruth recovered from the shock of her sur 
 prise; with asperity almost bordering on disgust, she sharply 
 rebuked him: 
 
 "Tony, that will do! 
 
 "Never be such an idiot again if you expect to hold my re 
 spect and regard! 
 
 "Your notion of love is too crude, too raw, too like the law 
 less loves of Bacchanalians. 
 
 "If we re to get on, you must treat me with the respectful 
 reserve that alone should characterize the relations of ra 
 tional beings who are drawn to each other by mutual intellec 
 tual interests." 
 
 Poor Tony! 
 
 For his realization had no longer endured than the mere 
 wretched little second that suffices to begin and end even the 
 longest of our dreams. 
 
 Idiot! Just that one word served to drop his temperature 
 and to make him drop Ruth and step back. 
 
 More to himself than to her Tony almost whispered, "I just 
 simply don t understand. God knows I should be sorry to be 
 rude, last of all women in the world to Ruth. But in the name 
 of all wildly throbbing hearts and hammering pulses, how 
 could I help it?" 
 
 "I dare say not, Tony. It is just you. What you love you 
 must crush and smother in silly kisses as did drunken Bac 
 chanals. And it is all such a mystery to me when in other 
 ways you are ever so infinitely tender and considerate." 
 
 And presently while Tony still stood silent, oppressed, puz 
 zling, Ruth added, "Pm rather feeling the chill of the river 
 mists; we will return to quarters, if you don t mind." 
 
 And as they turned and strolled away, a dusky figure that 
 throughout the incident had been lurking a few feet from 
 them, deeper within the shadows of the platanos, sank to the 
 ground digging nails into its palms, grinding its teeth and 
 rocking like one suffering great pain. 
 
 Directly they reached her quarters, Tony bade Ruth good 
 night and left her.
 
 WILD TOSSING WAVES OF LOVE 
 
 Whatever else remained to do? 
 
 For any but the maddest lover s love, the incident within 
 the shadow of the platanos had been enough to completely 
 kill it. 
 
 But if love in general is blind, such utterly mad love as Tony s 
 is senseless. 
 
 He was not so much precisely hurt as startled and more pro 
 foundly puzzled. 
 
 Certainly Ruth was more attached to him than to any other 
 living creature. That was always cropping out in their con 
 versations, and yet a marble statue could not be less respon 
 sive to his tenderness. 
 
 Where, our blind and senseless lover questioned, are her im 
 pulses? 
 
 Ignoring the patent fact that the girl he idolized was as pa 
 thetically passionless as any idol hewn from stone. 
 
 He must think must try to think. 
 
 So on and on he strolled alone. 
 
 Whither? He did not care, nor did he realize until he found 
 himself within the rank growths that now are the only garri 
 son of the old stone fort on Tantuan Hill. 
 
 But alone? 
 
 No; he had not come alone. 
 
 Silent as a haunting shade, step by step he had been closely 
 followed. 
 
 But that he did not know. 
 
 For some time poor tortured Tony stood looking down 
 upon the one lighted window of Cotabato that held interest 
 for him. 
 
 The soft night breeze that stirred his auburn curls cooled 
 his brow and slowed his pulses, until at length he began ac 
 tually to think. 
 
 How could he hope that poor parody of love that was all the 
 sentiment he had aroused in Ruth could suffice him? 
 
 Certainly it could not. 
 
 He must have great, hot, high-swelling, wild-tossing waves 
 of love that would eagerly enfold him when into them he
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 plunged, wild waves of love that might strangle him but that 
 would never give him up. 
 
 They must separate, Ruth and he. 
 
 That should not be difficult, so he could manage to tear her 
 from his heart, for plainly he had offended her. Too rudely 
 had he stirred the lifeless pool of placidity in which she dwelt. 
 
 To forget her; that was the trouble. 
 
 Ha! Tap>s were sounding, and it s time he, too, should be 
 seeking his quarters. 
 
 But no more had he turned than from the shadows out upon 
 him headlong sprang a dusky figure! 
 
 At his throat it leaped, as if to throttle him ! 
 
 So suddenly was it upon him, that before the ready bush- 
 fighter had time to so much as lift his hands, or even to think, 
 sinewy arms were fiercely clasped around his neck, for a mo 
 ment nigh strangling him, and tightly interlocked with his 
 were powerful limbs that swayed and nearly threw him. 
 
 Through such instants one lives years and years, and reviews 
 his life. 
 
 So Captain Tony Trigg relived the years and reviewed his life, 
 and was on the point of commending his soul to God, when, 
 instead of the kris stab he believed inevitable, hot lips were 
 by turns furiously pressing his and sobbing his name in the 
 low, melodious tones he knew so well. 
 
 Absorbed in Ruth, faithful to his love for her as he had been, de 
 spite the compelling appeal of what he well knew to be Esa s 
 mad love for him, at first he roughly seized her by the shoul 
 ders and sought to push her from him. But the harder he 
 strove to free himself, the tighter she clung. 
 
 So they struggled and swayed, locked together as one of 
 body as completely as both were one of desire. 
 
 But finally he found voice. 
 
 "Tu estas /oca, gordita, libreme!" "Thou art mad, little plump 
 one; free me!" he cried. 
 
 "Never; never will Esa free you, Son of Fire. Esa wants 
 you now, always."
 
 WILD TOSSING WAVES OF LOVE 
 
 And followed another storm of kisses that nearly smothered 
 him. 
 
 "But stop; you are mad," feebly ordered Tony, as soon as 
 he could get his breath. 
 
 "Yes, Son of Fire; and Esa will stay mad until she has you. 
 That white woman shall not have you. She does not want 
 you as Esa does. Esa saved you. You are hers. Never til 
 you kill Esa shall you leave her." 
 
 "But but, little one " 
 
 "No; never shall the white woman get you," Esa interrupt 
 ed; "she cannot do for you what Esa can. She? Ha! She is 
 cold as the hill pools of mornings, while Esa burns, and burns 
 and burns as does the mid-day sun." 
 
 And since we already have his own word that he was of the 
 earth, earthy, little the wonder that before he knew it Tony s 
 powerful arms were constraining more fiercely than they had 
 repulsed her. 
 
 [219]
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 EXTRAVAGANT ALTRUISM 
 
 When the bugles sounded reveille the morning after Esa had 
 leaped upon him out of the shadows of the old stone fort on 
 Tantuan Hill, Captain Tony Trigg was wide awake. 
 
 Indeed he had not closed his eyes throughout the night. 
 
 The crisis of his life was come. That he well knew. Joe had 
 predicted no less than what had happened, had warned him 
 and advised him. 
 
 But who may venture to advise another? 
 
 AH night the old Adam in him had been calling. 
 
 The voice of primitive man had been ringing in his ears. 
 
 "What one wants, one takes!" 
 
 To be sure he was not properly a primitive man, nor by the 
 code of his kind might he continue indulging himself in prim 
 itive privileges. 
 
 But what s a code that forbids the taking of what one wants 
 taking it all? 
 
 To hell with it. 
 
 Esa! 
 
 What man in all the world could find the strength to repulse 
 such a love as hers? 
 
 Little savage! 
 
 Yes, to be sure. 
 
 But good God what a woman ! 
 
 Where in the ranks of civilization, formalized by custom, 
 timid of the protection under which they dwell, impoverished 
 of big masterful emotions by the conventions of their en 
 vironment, may one find a girl with a soul so great, a love so 
 big, a heart so bold as hers? 
 
 But a savage! 
 
 Mate with her? 
 
 How the folks at home would despise him! 
 
 [221 ]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Yes, of course, they d be bound to for they don t know 
 Esa. 
 
 Ha! but why should he consider them? Each must work 
 out the problem of life s best happiness for himself. 
 
 To the devil with them. 
 
 Why condemn himself to the passionless pallidity of their 
 lives from fear of their opinion? 
 
 They need not pride themselves of their superior virtues. 
 Once, not so very, very many generations ago, their own for 
 bears, men and women alike, loved and lusted humanly, 
 passionately, as does Esa, and yes, as do Esa and he. 
 
 Ha! That was back in the manly days when men fought 
 and took by force of their own strong arms the things that 
 now they win by superior deceit. 
 
 Theirs was manly battling, when each risked his life for 
 what he wanted, while now the craft and hypocrisy of lying 
 tongues buy the loot and women then won by flashing blades. 
 
 Ah, that splendid elder world, wherein one fought when he 
 hated and loved where he would! 
 
 Had he only lived then! How often had he dreamed it! 
 
 But dreams, all dreams; and dreams are never realized. 
 
 Never realized? 
 
 Nonsense; why by Heaven, here was his realization, the 
 realization of his dearest dreams. 
 
 Out here on the edge of the world, the very outer edge of his 
 world, here was his realization here with Esa. 
 
 But Tony must not deceive himself. 
 
 So mated, that would be his end, the end of all close sym 
 pathies and associations with his kind. 
 
 One step, just one step forward and he could never get back. 
 
 Full well he knew the law of life that no man may mate with 
 any woman materially beneath him mentally or morally who 
 is not inevitably dragged down to her level. 
 
 But dragged down? 
 
 Nothing of the sort. 
 
 Mating with Esa? Why, that would elevate him to the 
 splendid heights of her own great love. 
 
 [222 ]
 
 EXTRAVAGANT ALTRUISM 
 
 And whatever the devil else but love matters, anyway? 
 
 And so on and on mused Captain Tony Trigg s badly vexed 
 mind until Guard Mount sounded, and he hurried across to 
 headquarters to find Governor Morine absorbed in some 
 dispatches he had just received and bitterly cursing under 
 his breath. 
 
 Dropping into a chair near the Governor s desk he asked : 
 
 "Wnat s up, Joe; what s biting you? You look like you 
 wanted to hit the war-path, like somebody s scalp would be 
 in danger if you get to him." 
 
 "By God, it s come, that s all." 
 
 "Well, what s come? I m sure I ve heard of no troubles on 
 the road our way to make you look so warlike." 
 
 "Why, Tony, the Government has just passed an act that, 
 if literally carried out, if not rescinded or pigeonholed, means 
 the virtual extermination of this Moro race. 
 
 "You know that since the first military head of this district 
 arrived here we have been assuring these Moros that they 
 should not be interfered with in the practice of any of their 
 ancient laws or customs. For that they have our word." 
 
 "But, whatever is this bomb of an act, Joe?" 
 
 "It s a law which prohibits slave-hunting and slave-owning, 
 and fixes a penalty on each offence of ten thousand pesos or 
 twenty years in jail, or both fine and imprisonment, at the 
 discretion of the courts." 
 
 "Ho, ho! That means war, war that can t end until long 
 after we re gone, Joe." 
 
 "It certainly does, Tony, but it s a war in which I shall take 
 no part. 
 
 "For much as the more humane of the officers of the war de 
 partment may regret it, it means a war more unequal and 
 cruel than that which practically wiped out the red race in 
 North America. 
 
 "It is all too shockingly bad. The Government just don t 
 seem to understand that slavery and polygamy alike are ex 
 plicitly authorized by the Koran, the precepts of which have 
 been the law of these people for so many generations. 
 
 [223]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "Why look at the Datu Ali, the half-brother of Linta, justly 
 the most esteemed of all the Datus ! It was only a few weeks 
 ago that I stayed several days with him at his rancheria. 
 
 "To test his temper I plainly asked him what he would do 
 if our authorities decreed the freeing of his slaves. 
 
 "Very simply the Datu AH answered me: 
 
 "My friend, you know that my slaves are my only wealth, 
 my only medium of exchange. Take them from me, and I 
 must become my own hewer of wood and drawer of water ! 
 
 "But what would you do if such an order were issued? 
 Would you fight? 
 
 " No/ Ali answered. Never would Ali attack the Mer- 
 gans. He would gather his people, abandon his rancheria 
 and plantations and withdraw into the wilderness. 
 
 "An, I see," I answered, "and if Ali were pursued and there 
 attacked, there all would die rather than surrender, I presume? 
 "My friend is quite right, quietly answered Ali. Let it not 
 come to that; but if it must so come better to die faithful to 
 the Prophet than to permit ourselves to be stripped of aught 
 the Koran provides we may have. 
 
 "One need not be a great student of history to realize what 
 that means, need he, Tony?" 
 
 "Just war, Joe, war till the Moros are all dead." 
 
 "Quite so. And look at the outrageous impolicy and inhu 
 manity of it. 
 
 "Here in this district, and chiefly in the valley, are sixty 
 thousand Moros. 
 
 "The mass of them are peaceful and industrious. 
 
 "Among them, as I have told you, I have traveled freely 
 and been kindly received. 
 
 "AH they ask is to be left in peace, to live out their lives in 
 accordance with the lights of the religion of their fathers. 
 
 "Thus, put forward whatever hypocritical apology for an 
 excuse one may, this war with the Moros will be in its essen 
 tial essence a religious war, a renewal of the war The Cross 
 has seldom long spared The Crescent. 
 
 "This is a profoundly grave situation, my boy. 
 
 [224]
 
 EXTRAVAGANT ALTRUISM 
 
 "This new Act inevitably decrees the outlawing and then 
 the ultimate destruction of a race, that, while regarded as 
 savages by our folks at home, owns a religion which has done 
 more for them than any of the Christian creeds have done 
 for their exemplars. 
 
 "How more? In that, broadly throughout the world, the 
 faithful to Islam, and most are faithful who even pretend al 
 legiance to the Prophet, never use intoxicants in any form, 
 and hence are wholly free from the vice of drunkenness that 
 is one of the greatest curses of Christendom, and, further, in 
 that for the faithful death holds no terrors, whereas few in 
 deed are the Christians who do not confront their end with 
 craven hearts. 
 
 "Again, I would repeat, it is the old story Give a dog a bad 
 name/ 
 
 "And yet what General Brisbane wrote of the Sioux and 
 Cheyenne Indians is also literal truth of the Moros 
 
 "That the Indians do not make war until pressed, you as a 
 resident of the Western Plains since 1870 must admit/ 
 
 "At the first attempt to. enforce this Act, instantly very 
 many of the wide fields of this rich valley will be left to go 
 fallow. Clan by clan, large bodies of the Moros will retire into 
 the jungle, there to starve and suffer as harried savages. 
 
 "Thus this Act outlaws the race, for even though unpur- 
 sued by us, no means of subsistence remains for them but 
 raiding and plundering. 
 
 "It is the end of all my hopes of the rapid and peaceful de 
 velopment of this enormously rich Island. 
 
 "And I m thinking shortly Til be leaving. Years must 
 elapse, many years, before there is any chance of the indus 
 trial development of the Moro Provinces. 
 
 "Not for generations will the Filipino race become as in 
 dustrious, efficient soil tillers as are now the Moros. And yet 
 our home laws and the weight of home sentiment that in 
 spired them will always preclude employment of contract 
 labor. 
 
 "And thus, so far as I can see, the occupation by the United 
 
 [225]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 States of the Philippine Islands, of Luzon as well as of the 
 Moro Provinces, must remain indefinitely an enormously 
 extravagant piece of altruism. 
 
 "It s all too bad, too bad, too bad." 
 
 And as, after leaving headquarters, Captain Tony Trigg 
 marched across to the barracks of his little brown terriers, he 
 wearily murmured to himself: 
 
 "And no less an extravagant piece of altruism has been my 
 love and devotion to Ruth, I m fearing, than is American in 
 tervention in these Islands!" 
 
 [ 226
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 LOVE DIES HARD 
 
 All was excitement and activity in Cotabato. 
 
 Never before had the drowsy monotony of its routine been 
 so rudely disturbed. 
 
 AH greatly to the delight of the eager Chino traders, for to 
 them it meant increased business profits. 
 
 Heavy reinforcements were coming in, regulars, constabu 
 lary and scouts. 
 
 The rebellious Moros who had retired to the hill jungles were 
 to be disciplined. 
 
 It was Captain Tony Trigg s last night at the post, for he 
 was under orders to lead his company of little brown terriers 
 against the Datu Linta s Maratuns and other clan-folk who 
 had stampeded into the hill country lying between Mt. Apo 
 and Davao Bay directly after the death of Datu Ali. 
 
 The following night he was to embark his company to take 
 the field, and now he was come to Ruth s quarters to advise 
 her of his departure. 
 
 Nor was that all. 
 
 Love dies hard, none so hard as that of a really strong man. 
 And Tony was strong. 
 
 Convinced, as he regarded himself, that his affection for 
 Ruth Snell must continue and end the resultless experiment 
 in altruism it had so far remained, nevertheless deep down 
 in his heart lurked the hope that his announcement of his de 
 parture on an expedition of obviously no small bodily peril 
 might serve to draw from her some sign or expression of the 
 tenderness he craved. 
 
 Might not his departure efface the resentment of his em 
 braces and kisses she plainly showed and expressed the night 
 they stood in the shadows of the platanos? 
 
 Anyway, he dared to hope so. 
 
 [227]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But little did he know the uncompromising, unyielding will 
 of the daughter of James Snell. 
 
 With daughter, as with father, a decision once formed was 
 final. Fail in whatever it should, hurt how and whomsoever 
 it might, that did not matter. A decision reversed is no de 
 cision at all. 
 
 Out of unalterable decisions, very definite plans are soon 
 vigorously sprouting. 
 
 And how unfortunate it is that never can we know how our 
 plans may work out until, usually, it is too late to escape any 
 of the disastrous consequences they may occasion. 
 
 After releasing the cold, limp fingers Ruth had extended 
 to him, and dropping into a chair beside her, Tony began 
 warmly : 
 
 "Seems an age, dear, since I ve seen you, except at a distance, 
 while on your way to school/ 
 
 "An age, Captain?" Ruth replied, with a few degrees of 
 more acute chill in her tones than usual. "How perfectly ab 
 surd, when it s only a little matter of two or more days since 
 since the regretful evening when you made such a violent 
 demonstration of well of animalism." 
 
 "But, good God, Ruth, dear, surely you cannot designate 
 as animalism the embraces and kisses a lover delights to 
 bestow upon the woman he adores! 
 
 "Kisses and embraces! Ah, Ruth, dear, it seems to me it is 
 such caresses that alone are all-sufficing; who has them, lacks 
 nothing, wants nothing but more caresses; who dies a 
 stranger to them, has not lived." 
 
 "For such caresses, where they are really tender and be 
 stowed with self-control and decorum, I suppose there may 
 be some apology notwithstanding the stupidity of it and 
 the very positive danger that the kisses may convey a dis 
 ease from one to the other. But yours, Captain, are out of a 
 measure of passion which makes you immoderate, violent, 
 furious, ignoring or wholly blind to the intellectual, indeed I 
 may say the almost spiritual bond, that should be the chief 
 motive in the matings of men and women." 
 
 [228]
 
 LOVE DIES HARD 
 
 "There you are again, Ruth, withdrawn entirely outside of 
 my mental atmosphere. Your words are plain enough, and 
 your tones convey to me the conviction that you mean pre 
 cisely what you say. Only to me it is impossible to think in 
 such terms. 
 
 "Of course, the tendency of the higher education and thought 
 of modern civilization is toward the suppression of the nor 
 mal emotions and impulses bred into us out of Mother Na 
 ture, but still I m thinking incalculable generations must 
 elapse before well, before human blood ceases to energize 
 any but purely mental human activities." 
 
 "You don t surprise me, Captain. It is probably even more 
 difficult for you to appreciate and concur in my views than 
 for me to understand and agree with yours. You " 
 
 "Pardon the interruption, Ruth, but you are entirely right. 
 And it is the growing realization that it is as wholly impossible 
 for me to attain your ideals as for your ideals to content mine 
 that has been breaking my heart. 
 
 "I have been adoring you from the first day we met. Sweet 
 and tender were the home relations of my youth. At home, 
 an indulgent father and a passionately affectionate mother 
 so strongly inoculated me with the love of Love, that through 
 out the many years rude campaigning and isolated mess life 
 have deprived me of it, I have actually suffered suffered 
 the lack of an object on which to pour out my affections. 
 
 "The accumulation was large enough it seemed to me to 
 suffice any woman who should not find my sort of a man ob 
 jectionable to her. 
 
 "And so, I have now long been hoping, you might find my 
 love to suffice you and to win from you the love I must needs 
 have in return to leave us fairly quits for even love is ever 
 a greedy bargainer and ill content to receive less than it 
 gives." 
 
 "True, Captain, and I take it you would agree that your 
 kind of love could never be content except when returned in 
 kind." 
 
 "Quite so as, obviously, never could yours, Ruth. But 
 
 [229]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 please don t mistake my phrases for bitterness. I am too 
 much overwhelmed with tne sense of my loss for that. Just 
 how dear your memory must ever remain to me I cannot pre 
 tend to try to tell you, and and God grant you may find a 
 man at least more nearly approaching your ideals than I do. 
 What a downright providence for both of us that I am order 
 ed to take the field just now, isn t it?" 
 
 "No, Captain, for it takes you into great danger, I fear, and 
 your marching orders are not necessary to procure the sepa 
 ration that is best for both of us. The fact is, after mature 
 reflection for two days, I have decided to resign and return 
 home on the next transport." 
 
 "Really! You don t mean it!" 
 
 "Yes; the fact is, I might have so resigned earlier but for 
 our but for my regard for you and my feeling that my leav 
 ing would distress you. You know I m devoted to my work, 
 but work that shows no results, no progress, soon becomes 
 hateful. And upon my word the only one of my pupils I can 
 see any hope of improving and uplifting as materially as I 
 had hoped is this pagan girl, Esa, whom I have adopted." 
 
 "Yes, Esa is indeed very bright," Tony agreed. 
 
 "She certainly is, and I intend telling her this evening that 
 I have made up my mind to take her home with me, and 
 there to give her every advantage and opportunity within 
 my power." 
 
 "Heavens, Ruth," the surprised Tony stammered, "you 
 mean you are going to make it an actual adoption, and carry 
 her away with you, take her into your family?" 
 
 "Yes, that s precisely what I have intended from the be 
 ginning, so she should seem to continue to deserve it up to 
 the time of my leaving." 
 
 "Well, I really hope you ll do nothing of the kind," Tony 
 vigorously protested. "You ll regret it as sure as fate. Re 
 member, from the local point of view Esa is no more a child. 
 She s a woman grown, as matured of mind, according to her 
 lights, as of body. The savage instincts bred into her by na 
 ture are now therein fixed by habit. Remember that. Fancy 
 
 [230]
 
 LOVE DIES HARD 
 
 the awful responsibility you d assume by taking her, a wild 
 creature it probably will never be safe for anyone to try to 
 constrain. Never would she herself be happy or even con 
 tent under the restraints of civilization, nor do I see how she 
 could fail to be anything but an anxiety and perhaps a grief 
 to you." 
 
 Tony had been so very earnest in his apparent concern for 
 her that it was in a softened tone Ruth replied : 
 
 "I admit there is very much truth in what you say, Tony, 
 but my tasks have never been so easy that Pm afraid of big 
 and difficult ones. You may be sure I had not begun the ex 
 periment except with the purpose to carry it through, and I 
 certainly shall not abandon it unless I reach a point where I 
 find I can no longer control her." 
 
 "Well, of course it is your affair, Ruth, and if Esa consents 
 to go I suppose there s nothing more to say about it." 
 
 "Consents! Why, I m not intending to ask her consent, for 
 I suppose in her ignorance and blindness the little pagan 
 would prefer to stay here. I shall just take her with me, in the 
 conviction that in time she will come to understand and ap 
 preciate what I m doing for her and to be glad of the advan 
 tage and opportunity given her." 
 
 "Well, really that does not leave me much more to say, 
 Ruth, except to wish you the best possible luck in this serious 
 experiment and a large measure of the happiness I had 
 hoped to be privileged to bring you." 
 
 And, presently, after Ruth had sat for some moments com 
 pletely absorbed in her thoughts, Tony rose and taking her 
 hand, added: 
 
 "Good night, Ruth and I guess it will have to be good-bye, 
 too, for I shall be on the jump tomorrow from dawn to dark, 
 making ready for my expedition. It s all too bad, but of 
 course it can t be helped, and so well, good-bye, Ruth." 
 
 "Good-bye, Tony. Rest assured I shall never forget your 
 kind services and devotion, and shall never cease to pray for 
 your safety from all perils and for your happiness."
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 ESA S BIGGEST MAGIC 
 
 Captain Tony Trigg was a very sadly racked and nearly fran 
 tic man the night he bade Ruth Snell good-bye and left her 
 quarters. 
 
 The gray mists of the river had spread abroad and wrapped 
 the town in fog so thick one could not see a pace ahead of 
 him. Little the wonder, then, that Tony wandered. The less 
 the wonder when we recall the double blow Ruth had dealt 
 him; he had lost the girl he had been idolizing and was con 
 fronting the apparently certain loss of another girl who mad 
 ly loved him. 
 
 As the fires of his love for Ruth had burned lower and lower 
 until now they were no more than dimly glowing embers, hot 
 flames of passion for Esa had seized upon him. 
 
 Not for a moment should it be mistakenly thought that 
 Ruth could not have held him, that Tony was by nature 
 fickle, for he was nothing of the sort. Just a little touch of 
 tenderness from Ruth would have probably sufficed to hold 
 him true to her, perhaps indefinitely. 
 
 But when that night of their farewell the embers crumbled 
 to ashes, he would have been far less than the thoroughly 
 human type he was if he could have shut his ears to the eager 
 calls of Esa s love. 
 
 Ha, was not hers precisely the love he had dreamed of? 
 
 And how hungrily he would seize it and tightly clasp it were 
 she a Christian maid of any race! 
 
 But a pagan she was a wild pagan so wild and unre 
 strained in her passions that she would as readily take the 
 life of any whomsoever as give up her own life for him. 
 
 And there was the point : Could he hope that ever again, in 
 woman of any race, he would be the object of such mad idola 
 try as was Esa s? 
 
 [233]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But just then little brown fingers firmly gripped his hand 
 and detained him and a soft voice warned: 
 
 "Cuidado! Take care, Son of Fire! Another step and you re 
 in the river, food for the Hungry Ones ! Are you sick? You ve 
 been walking like the blind." 
 
 Which was altogether inconsiderate of Fate, in two respects : 
 First, because it brought him face to face with the biggest 
 problem of his life while yet it was new to him and unsolved; 
 and, second, because a plunge among the alligators of the 
 Rio Grande might have saved him from the agony of a still 
 more terrible destiny. 
 
 But, naturally, at the moment he was very grateful, not 
 withstanding the incident instantly made more acute his 
 sense of the loss that threatened him, for a guardian angel 
 at the elbow ever alert to intervene and save one from peril 
 is not a gift the gods often vouchsafe us. 
 
 When he found voice, he simply answered: 
 
 "Thank you, gordita; it seems I ve wandered in the mists." 
 
 "But you are sick or something troubles you, Son of Fire," 
 the soft voice persisted; "you don t seem even to hear, for 
 one may hear the rushing river even when the mists hide it." 
 
 "No, little one, I m not sick but yes, this may be my only 
 chance to talk to you. I am in trouble. Tomorrow I go to 
 the hills to fight the Moros, and now I am just come from 
 telling the white lady good-bye." 
 
 "Ah, and the Son of Fire is hurt to leave her?" 
 
 "Yes, and no; it is not precisely that. The white lady tells 
 me she leaves here by the next boat to return to her home 
 to our country far across the seas." 
 
 "Ah, that is good; Esa likes that," the soft voice murmured. 
 
 "But, little one, the white lady wants to do a great deal for 
 you she wants to take you to her country. She will teach 
 you all the Mergan magic, make you like the Mergan girls. 
 There she will take you to live with her as her daughter." 
 
 "She, that cold white woman, wants Esa to go with her 
 across the seas?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 [234]
 
 ESA S BIGGEST MAGIC 
 
 "And always always there to live with her, across the 
 seas?" 
 
 "Yes, probably always. It isn t likely she will ever return 
 here." 
 
 "And you, Son of Fire?" 
 
 "I? I remain here at my work, little one." 
 
 "Always?" 
 
 "Ah, who can tell? Probably as long as there are Moros to 
 fight which very likely means to the end of my days." 
 
 "But you know, Esa will never follow her, Son of Fire. 
 When Esa may not go where you go, Esa dies. The white 
 lady goes alone." 
 
 Bang! Smash! With crushing force the weight of his crisis 
 fell upon him. There was no dodging or sidestepping. Indeed, 
 there was scarcely time for a moment s reflection. 
 
 And the responsibility was all his. 
 
 For he knew she would do, literally, what he directed. 
 
 Meantime Esa was either meeting the emergency with ex 
 traordinary bravery or else she herself was stunned by the 
 weight of the blow. 
 
 Her tones neither rose nor fell. 
 
 The little brown fingers were nearly biting into his, but not 
 otherwise did she show any emotion. 
 
 Few were the instants this strong man took to terminate 
 his trial. 
 
 Perhaps no man s fidelity to his traditions and the conven 
 tions ingrained into him in his youth was ever more severely 
 tested. 
 
 Himself by nature a throw-back to remote generations when 
 men loved and battled without restraint, these natural pro 
 clivities had been fostered and strengthened by years of 
 battling on wild frontiers. 
 
 But few men are, after all, better or worse than the tradi 
 tions of their youth, and all the traditions of Captain Tony 
 Trigg had been of the best. 
 
 Where all power lay in his hands, there, too, lay all the re 
 sponsibility. 
 
 [235]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 And to do anything that could bring grief to his old father 
 and mother was not to be considered. 
 
 Thus it seemed that passion had lost and tradition won 
 when he laid his hand on Esa s shoulder and looking kindly 
 down into the big anxious eyes, very gently murmured: 
 
 "Little one, you should go. You must go with the white 
 lady. It is best for you. I shall not deny I hate to lose you, 
 little one, but the white lady will make you like the women of 
 her race. It is better you should go." 
 
 "But Esa don t want to be like the Mergan women; if all 
 are like her, Esa would die. Esa wants to stay here hopes 
 one day to go back to her home among the tree tops of Mt. 
 Apo." 
 
 "But, little one, think of all the wonderful magic you have 
 already learned from the Moros and from us, and let me tell 
 you all of it is very little to what you will learn if you go with 
 the white lady." 
 
 "You know, Son of Fire. What you say must be true. But 
 of what good to Esa is magic that she cannot use? Esa only 
 cares for magic that will make her more powerful to rule her 
 people than were Punungan and Usup." 
 
 "So, little one! You never told me that before. And so 
 you re figuring to return one day and rule your clan?" 
 
 "For that Usup taught Esa. That Esa has wanted, that 
 has been all she wanted, but now she wants you, Son of Fire. 
 Nothing else. You are the biggest magic Esa has learned, 
 bigger than all of Usup s, yes, bigger than Lancona s, for now 
 only could she use Lancona s magic in your service, to do 
 your will." 
 
 "Lancona s magic? What is that, little Esa?" 
 
 "That? Oh, nothing nothing like yours, Son of Fire, that 
 by turns makes Esa strong and leaves her weak. Ah, you 
 don t know. Esa wants you all the time. Wherever she walks, 
 she sees you, Son of Fire; of nights she wakes feeling herself 
 crushed breathless in your arms. You, Son of Fire, you are 
 Esa s god, greater than Dewata. Esa must do what you say, 
 but Esa wants you, Esa " 
 
 [236]
 
 ESA S BIGGEST MAGIC 
 
 "But stop, stop; por Dios, stop, little one!" cried the severe 
 ly tried Tony ; for, while her voice was still low and even, to 
 him who knew her so well, its very self-control more strongly 
 emphasized the waves of passion that were sweeping her than 
 could any violence. 
 
 When the ungovernable appear to be governing themselves, 
 it is time to have a care. 
 
 "But tomorrow you leave, Son of Fire," the low voice slow 
 ly resumed, "and tonight tonight we are alone as as 
 in the old stone fort!" 
 
 The low voice hushed, both remained silent. 
 
 The great, black Oriental eyes blazed eagerly, pleadingly, 
 hungrily up into his. 
 
 But not for long. 
 
 For presently they softened, of conviction of assured satis 
 faction, as she felt his grip of her shoulder tightening 
 
 Whereupon a kindly shift of the night breeze enveloped 
 them in a cloud of mist so dense that not even the bright 
 lamps of luciernagas could penetrate it. 
 
 [237]
 
 CHAPTER L 
 TONY AND HIS TERRIERS 
 
 From "Reveille" to "Retreat/ Captain Tony Trigg and his 
 teniente had been working like beavers with preparations for 
 their campaign. The Quartermaster s stores were to be drawn 
 on for munitions and innumerable details of equipment, the 
 Commissary for provisions, and even the hospital s reserves 
 of medicines and surgical supplies were laid under tribute, 
 for with neither a spare surgeon nor even hospital steward 
 available to accompany them, they must prepare to deal with 
 their own sick and wounded. 
 
 But countless as were the items which must not be forgot 
 ten, nevertheless comparatively light was the weight and 
 small the bulk when all the stores were assembled and sub 
 divided into compact, convenient loads for the cargadores, 
 the native burden-bearers who constitute the only transport 
 serviceable in the hill country where the streams are so swift 
 that vintas cannot be used and lack of paths precludes the 
 use of carabaos. 
 
 Captain Trigg was an old hand at bush fighting, and did not 
 propose to hamper himself with a transport service that could 
 not pretty well keep up with his little brown terriers. More 
 over, he knew his tropics and what happens to temperate 
 zone men who persist in living there as they do at home. The 
 men were stripped as near to the buff as practicable and ra 
 tions were reduced to a few nourishing but non-heating sim 
 ples, with strong preference for types of food-stuffs that may 
 be eaten uncooked, such as raisins, prunes, chocolate, etc.; 
 the scent of smoke carries far in the jungle, and that of cook 
 ing food carries farther still. If a column is marching quietly, 
 camp may well happen to be made within a few yards of an 
 enemy, and all enemies native to the jungle thread its laby 
 rinths silent as disembodied spirits and are keen of scent as 
 any of the jungle beasts. 
 
 [239]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 No noisy column ever scores a forest surprise, and when the 
 sign shows a hot trail the making of camp fires is inviting the 
 boloing of one s sentries or a dawn surprise of one s camp. 
 
 Hence, there was little of bacon, tinned meats or any sort of 
 highly heating food, but plenty of rice, biscuit, sugar and 
 dried fruits in Captain Trigg s commissariat. 
 
 Tents, camp cots and all like weighty luxuries were dispens 
 ed with, and when shortly after "Retreat" he marched his 
 company aboard the launch, Tony and his teniente, as well as 
 all his men, were stripped of their underclothing and clad in 
 nothing but shirts, trousers and rope-soled shoes all as mo 
 bile and as fit for silent, hard marching as the enemy they 
 were detailed to pursue. 
 
 And lucky for Tony it doubtless was that his preparation 
 had kept him closely preoccupied, too busy to grieve over 
 either the love that had not or over that other mad love that 
 had so completely sufficed him, or perhaps, at the moment, 
 even to realize that within a few days both Ruth and Esa 
 would be on the high seas, sailing away out of his life. 
 
 Indeed, it was not until the lights of Cotabato had faded 
 from his sight that it suddenly occurred to Tony as strange, 
 very strange, that he had seen nothing of Esa during the day. 
 
 What could that mean, he thought. Probably that Esa pre 
 ferred to carry away with her across the seas her memories of 
 their previous evening together within the veil of the mists to 
 those of a parting at the launch s gang-plank where she could 
 not hope to so much as touch his hand. 
 
 And when at last he fell asleep, it was to toss restlessly 
 throughout a night of rapidly alternating dreams first, of 
 one or another of his scenes with Ruth that always left him 
 chilled, shivering, all but congealed; and then of Esa s mad 
 fondlings that set his pulse wildly pounding and left him hot, 
 gasping, nigh breathless. 
 
 Did all the world hold two such wide opposites as the girl 
 he had in vain idolized and she who now so completely pos 
 sessed him? 
 
 AH night long the launch chugged away up the Rio Grande, 
 
 [240]
 
 TONY AND HIS TERRIERS 
 
 and all the following day as well, for his speed was such there 
 was no fear of news of the coming of his expedition getting 
 ahead of him. 
 
 His landing was to be made near the junction of the Kabak- 
 an and Malbul Rivers, whence his march into the hills south 
 of Mt. Apo would begin. 
 
 It was in the brief tropical twilight that Tony emptied the 
 launch of his men and their supplies and equipment. 
 
 As a group of the porters were descending the gang-plank 
 with the last of the cargo, among them Captain Trigg noted a 
 Moro youth carrying a load, but obviously too young and 
 light of weight to be employed for service as a porter unless 
 in some emergency where men could not be had. At the time 
 it struck him as strange that he could not recall having seen 
 the lad before, either during the loading of the launch in Co- 
 tabato or while voyaging upstream. 
 
 But, after all, a porter is a porter, a creature of burden, as 
 are domestic four-footed beasts, and since the lad was carry 
 ing his load Cap tain Trigg dismissed the matter from his mind. 
 
 As soon as all his effects were ashore and the individual 
 loads were distributed among the porters, Captain Trigg began 
 a night march. His first task was to try to surprise a couple 
 of rancherias that were close to the outer Moro frontier and 
 to undertake to disarm them, for the Datus of both ranch 
 erias were among the more active of the slave-raiders and 
 hence were deemed certain to take to the bush shortly if they 
 had not already done so. 
 
 Three hard night marches, the three intervening days pass 
 ed lying very quietly in the dusky recesses of the jungle, 
 enabled him to effect a complete surprise of the first of these 
 two Datus. 
 
 Summoned to surrender all his weapons of every descrip 
 tion or have his clan exterminated, the Chief parleyed. 
 
 He pleaded, not without good reason, that the Mergans 
 might as well strip him of all clothing and food supplies. 
 
 Without the arms, how defend himself and his people against 
 
 [241 ]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 clan enemies, how till the soil now that his carabaos were dead 
 of the rinderpest? 
 
 All which was true enough, but orders were orders and Tony 
 had nothing to do but persist in his demand. 
 
 Convinced of the futility of his pleadings, and less bold than 
 most of his fellow chiefs, the Datu sullenly delivered up his 
 arms, and Tony s column marched on. 
 
 And it was not until his porters were filing past him out of 
 this village that it suddenly occurred to Captain Tony Trigg 
 that since leaving the river he had seen nothing of the young 
 Moro lad he had observed fetching a load ashore from the 
 launch, the night he had disembarked his troops. 
 
 And when the circumstance struck him as so curious that 
 he made inquiry, first of his teniente and then of his non-com 
 missioned officers and men, it was to learn that while several 
 recalled seeing the lad aboard the launch none had again set 
 eyes on him since their landing at the mouth of the Kabakan. 
 
 All of which worried Captain Tony Trigg not a little, for he 
 made sure the lad must be some messenger smuggled aboard 
 at Cotabato to warn the Datus of the frontier to be on guard 
 for him. 
 
 However, such are the fortunes of war and he must make 
 the best of it, but obviously the difficulties of his task were 
 likely to be doubled. 
 
 And sure enough, the next rancheria he marched on he did 
 not manage to surprise. 
 
 Instead, to his own surprise, he was met by a messenger of 
 its Datu with word that the Datu was advised of his ap 
 proach and demanding an explanation of its purpose, and 
 further warning him that the Datu and his people would 
 fight till they were dead if he attempted to enter their village. 
 
 Anxious to avoid hostilities if possible, Captain Trigg camped 
 his command and returned word to the Datu by his messen 
 ger that all his arms must be surrendered forthwith. 
 
 To this message the Datu boldly answered that never had 
 he attacked the Mergans, nor would he attack them if he 
 and his people were left to themselves. But if the Mergan 
 
 [242]
 
 TONY AND HIS TERRIERS 
 
 chiefs attempted in any way to interfere with him, he would 
 fight, and if necessary die, for his privileges and his land. 
 
 For three days Captain Trigg patiently parleyed, but late the 
 afternoon of the third day he came to realize that further 
 negotiation was useless, and marched on the village. 
 
 Arrived there, he found that the Datu had sent all his wom 
 en and children into the forest and had lined up his men in 
 front of their huts, for battle. 
 
 Directing his men under no circumstances to fire until or 
 dered, Captain Trigg slowly advanced his men in open order, 
 ready for the rush of the enemy he felt certain must come. 
 
 But steadily the Moros held their position, just as steadily 
 as Tony s men advanced. 
 
 Nothing is more trying on their enemies than a slow, steady, 
 silent advance of troops bearing firearms. 
 
 Would they never fire? Would those terrible Mergans keep 
 coming slowly on until their weapons that smoke like Mt. 
 Apo could be jambed against naked bodies and blow great 
 holes in them? 
 
 That sort of fighting was just a little bit too much for Moro 
 nerves. Had a single shot been fired, every Moro would have 
 died on the field fighting, face to face with the white enemy. 
 
 But stand this slow, silent advance they could not. Sud 
 denly their line broke and all "bunked," scattering among the 
 huts, racing beyond them toward the forest and leaving their 
 Datu standing alone. 
 
 But no more had they deserted their splendid old War Chief 
 than he began a very deliberate, dignified advance on the 
 approaching line, fiercely twirling his kris about his head un 
 til it seemed that the long gray-bearded chieftain was crown 
 ed with white hot flames. 
 
 Of course he had to do it, but it is doubtful if ever in his life 
 Captain Tony Trigg more reluctantly gave an order than that 
 which caused the splendid old Datu to drop, riddled with 
 bullets, within ten feet of his enemies. 
 
 And then, since a lesson was necessary, another reluctant 
 order soon laid the village in ashes. 
 
 [243]
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 HOW RECONCILE CONFLICTING WILLS? 
 
 It was dawn. 
 
 She stood at the eastern end of the gallery of Ruth s quar 
 ters. 
 
 Her eyes were fixed on Mt. Apo, whose blue cone towered 
 high aloft into the zenith above the mists that still shrouded 
 the valley, the same kindly mists that veiled her last hours 
 with Tony the night before, down by the river. 
 
 If love is a gauge given us with which to measure our ca 
 pacity for suffering, as a clever French cynic has held, then, 
 certainly, Esa s love was infinite. Her suffering was over 
 whelming. The memories of her ecstasy while clasped tight 
 to Tony s breast now only served to intensify her agony. 
 
 What was she to do? 
 
 The white woman was determined to take her across the 
 seas to the Mergan country. And the Son of Fire insisted 
 she should go. 
 
 What, leave him, when that very same night he was him 
 self starting out to war with the Moros ! Ha, that would be 
 when he would need her most, she who knew the jungles, 
 their folk and secrets, better than any Moro. 
 
 Go across the seas with the white woman? Far better to 
 die. The restraints of life with her in Cotabato were bad 
 enough. Every last one of the comforts and luxuries of this 
 Mergan house were obnoxious to her, made her long more 
 and more for the care-free liberty of life among the Pugsan 
 tree tops. In the Mergans own country, how much worse 
 it must be, ever shut within towns, stranger to the songs of 
 hill streams and the voices of the forest ! 
 
 But he has told her she must go. And his will is Esa s law. 
 When the white woman leaves on one of the great boats that 
 smoke like Mt. Apo, Esa, too, must leave. 
 
 [245]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 But suppose the white woman should not go! Suppose she 
 could not go back to her country! 
 
 While she may go, Esa must wait, ready to go with her, for 
 so he has ordered. 
 
 But if the white woman cou/c?nodeave, why, then Esa would be 
 free to follow the Son of Fire into the jungles, safe of chiding 
 from him for doing other than his will! 
 
 But by the red wings of Toomulkun, look! 
 
 In the name of all the Limbings, what is that? 
 
 To be sure it was only the blood-red tropical sun poised for 
 an instant precisely on the point of Mt. Apo s lofty cone, but 
 to the fevered vision of our badly-tortured little jungle mys 
 tic it was no less than a fiery glance of Dewata s angry eye, in 
 which she read a message and a mandate that first made her 
 shiver and then set her rigid as bronze. 
 
 Ha ! At last ! How often had she invoked Dewata s aid but 
 always in vain ! But now, now at last He was come to her, to 
 her aid ! Ah, but it was a wise and a great Dewata, not to be 
 troubled with little things; such a good Dewata, who conies 
 and answers Esa instantly now that her need of Him is so 
 much greater than ever before. 
 
 So? That was Dewata s will. She should have thought of 
 that before. 
 
 With the capture of Usup, the Pugsan clan were left with 
 out an Ingorandy. 
 
 And now that Usup was dead and could never return, who 
 but she, Esa, could take his place? 
 
 Who but Esa could receive Dewata s messages from the 
 great red-winged Toomulkun, send the terrible Busau against 
 the clan s enemies, and, by placating the big, black, limping 
 Munowog, avert the working of calamities by that devil brood, 
 the Limbings? 
 
 Ha! And she had been fool enough to think Lancona s magic 
 mightier than Dewata s! 
 
 But not now, not since that great, red, angry eye had 
 burned its message into her brain. 
 
 "Come, Priestess; return to your clan!" said that angry eye. 
 
 [246]
 
 HOW RECONCILE CONFLICTING WILLS? 
 
 So be it. Who might ignore so obvious a mandate direct 
 from Dewata? Certainly not she, whom Dewata himself, act 
 ing through Usup, had dedicated to His service. 
 
 And yet there was the will of the Son of Fire, that decreed 
 she must cross the seas with the white woman! 
 
 How reconcile the two? 
 
 One she dared not disobey; the other she would not. 
 
 But stop. So? So? So? How stupid. That would do. It should 
 have occurred to her before. That would solve the riddle. 
 Then she could fulfill Dewata s will and once back among 
 her clan she could work her own will without disobedience of 
 the Son of Fire! 
 
 So wrapt was she in her vision and in the plans it suggested 
 that she did not realize that for some time Ruth had been 
 standing near, closely observing her. Not until Ruth spoke 
 did she realize it. 
 
 "Dreaming of your hill life again, I suppose, child," the 
 white woman began in her halting Spanish. 
 
 "Yes, senora," Esa simply answered. 
 
 "But surely you must find yourself very much more com 
 fortable and happy here with me, here where you are decent 
 ly clothed and always liberally fed, and where you are learn 
 ing so fast the what you call the Mergan magic. Is it not 
 so, Esa?" 
 
 "But Esa was bred there," pointing into the east where the 
 clouds that daily veiled Mt. Apo were already climbing its 
 flanks ; "Esa was bred up there among the Mt. Apo tree tops," 
 she answered. 
 
 "Yes, yes; I understand; but all the savagery of your jungle 
 life you ve got to forget, for you are not to return to Mt. Apo, 
 I ve other plans for you," Ruth continued, and there was a 
 note of firmness in her tones that Esa had already come to 
 understand. 
 
 "Plans for me, senora?" she asked, in apparent surprise. 
 
 "Yes, I m to leave the Island soon and return across the 
 seas to my people. You will go with me. I shall make you my 
 daughter, or sister, keep you with me in my home among the 
 
 [247]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Mergans, there to live as we live, to be taught all we know, 
 to forget all your wretched heathen gods and to learn to wor 
 ship our God, the one and only true God. It is a wonderful 
 opportunity I shall give you. You will be glad, will you not?" 
 
 "No, senora," came a very quiet answer. "Esa would stay 
 in sight of Mt. Apo. Esa wants you to let her stay here. That 
 will be better for you, senora." 
 
 "But that s my affair, girl, any trouble you are to me and 
 goodness knows I suppose there ll be a lot of it," she added 
 under her breath. 
 
 "And Esa must go?" 
 
 "Yes, girl; that is my intention." 
 
 "Bueno, entonces; good, then; Esa will be ready when the 
 senora goes." 
 
 "Ah, that s better, child," Ruth Snell smiled, and then 
 passed in to her breakfast. 
 
 [248]
 
 CHAPTER LII 
 STALKING MARATUNS 
 
 The first two Datus he had to deal with disposed of, Captain 
 Trigg s next and much more serious undertaking was to lo 
 cate and strike Datu Linta s clan. 
 
 They were quite a different proposition, for it is to be re 
 membered that Linta s Maratuns were made up of the most 
 desperate fighters and habitual slave-raiders of the Moro 
 race. They might fly at his approach or they might take the 
 aggressive and seek to cut him up from ambush. However, 
 since the Datu Telecoco had managed to efface Ishmael and 
 several of the Maratun raiders, an organized attack from 
 them was not very likely. But surprise or surround them and 
 it was a certainty they would fight to the death. 
 
 But prowl and crosscut the jungle of the rough hill country 
 he was in, as much as he would, ten days elapsed before Cap 
 tain Trigg struck a trail and was convinced it must be their 
 trail, because so far as he had been able to learn the Mara 
 tuns were the only band that ranged that section. 
 
 As nearly as he could judge, there were between seventy 
 and one hundred of them. 
 
 And along this trail, relentlessly as hounds on a hot scent, 
 Captain Trigg led his little brown terriers for weeks. 
 
 Often he found from the "sign" of their camps that they 
 had been passing the night within mid-rifle range of each 
 other, and again the artful Moros would double up or down 
 some stream and manage to lose their pursuers for a day or 
 two. 
 
 The going was terrible, always either through the tangle of 
 close crowding jungle growths, wherein at every step his men 
 were in reach of a mortal stab from an out-thrust kris, or 
 struggling through cogon grass twice the height of one s head 
 and thick as the hair on a dog s back. 
 
 Nowhere in the world was there ever harder campaigning 
 
 [249]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 than Captain Trigg s two months* pursuit of the Maratuns, 
 often for continuous distance of as much as twelve miles wad 
 ing breast deep in the cold waters and stumbling and falling 
 over the boulders of mountain streams to which his quarry 
 had taken to throw him off their scent, and which he must of 
 course follow to find where they left the stream and again 
 plunged into the jungle. 
 
 Nor dared he abate his guard for a second. 
 
 For while this pursuit was much like the old Far Western 
 
 fame of walking down wild horses, wherein one man afoot 
 ept a band of horses moving for nine days and then usually 
 got them so worn and exhausted that, still afoot himself, he 
 could drive them into a pen, nevertheless the Maratuns were 
 quite another proposition. 
 
 Day by day and week by week the pursuit continued, Cap 
 tain Trigg and his men steadily growing leaner and harder as 
 long as their provisions lasted. 
 
 But, just fancy it, ye livers on the fat flesh pots of civiliza 
 tion, for four entire weeks of the finish of the campaign the 
 complete exhaustion of the supplies compelled this indomi 
 table soldier to subsist his men like savages, on the edible 
 nuts, fruits and roots of the jungle ! 
 
 Now the chase was getting close, the quarry never more 
 than a few hours ahead of him. 
 
 Vigilance must be redoubled, for surely the Moros must by 
 this time be desperate. 
 
 Thus of nights the little brown terriers were made to sleep 
 in a narrow circle, heads to the circle s centre and feet out, 
 bayonets fixed on rifles, the butt of each rifle at the shoulder, 
 the bayonet at the feet, so that, even when risen to no better 
 than a sitting position, all were ready to receive a charge at 
 the first note of alarm from the sentries posted in the centre 
 of the circle. 
 
 Doubtless their night camps were spied on often, but their 
 positions found too difficult to invite an attack. 
 
 Nevertheless the pursuers were not to escape scot-free. 
 
 Late one afternoon, shortly before the camping hour, when 
 
 [250]
 
 STALKING MARATUNS 
 
 almost complete darkness shut them in and all were pain 
 fully plodding along, exhausted of their all-day hike, sud 
 denly out of ambush and upon the head of the column sprang 
 four Moros. 
 
 This ambush was even a louder and closer call for the life of 
 Captain Tony Trigg than was his fight on the banks of the 
 Dagao River to rescue Esa, for he was full twenty-five yards 
 in front of his men when the attack was delivered. 
 
 Directly on him sprang two of the Moros. 
 
 One he dropped dead with a snap shot from his carbine, 
 but, before he had time to reload it, the heavy campilan 
 blade of the other Moro was actually descending upon his 
 unprotected head. 
 
 Apparently nothing could save him it was his finish for 
 he was out of sight of his men, who were sharply engaged in 
 the bush behind him, firing rapidly. 
 
 A second would have served to lift his carbine aloft and re 
 ceive the blow on its barrel, or to jump aside, but no spare 
 second was his. 
 
 Down upon him swept the campilan blade. 
 
 Nothing could save him. 
 
 But nothing? 
 
 Ha, good God! What is that? The fierce Moro suddenly 
 falls limp into Tony s arms deluging him with blood, and 
 something pricks him sharply in the ribs, while the campilan 
 clatters into the bush behind him and then the Moro s body 
 slips to the ground and lies still! 
 
 By the time Tony had time to leap back to the aid of his 
 men, the other two Moros were also dead, both pretty well 
 riddled with bullets. 
 
 And when this jack-out-of-the-box action was over and Tony 
 came to examine the dead, it was to confront one of the big 
 gest surprises and puzzles of his life. 
 
 The only wounds on the Moro who had been in the act of 
 cutting Tony down with his campilan when he so mysterious 
 ly dropped dead into Tony s arms were made by two poison 
 ed blow-gun darts that remained sticking in his back and the
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 transfixing of his heart by the long obonfa-pointed Monobo 
 arrow that had pricked Tony s ribs, and both of the Moros 
 who had attacked his men had also been targets for Monobo 
 weapons ! 
 
 And yet no Monobo had been seen, nor did a quick beating 
 of the adjacent jungle win him a glimpse of one! 
 
 What in the name of all the world s biggest mysteries could 
 it mean? 
 
 Puzzle as he would, throughout that night and for days 
 thereafter, Tony could find no explanation for the happening 
 except that a band of Monobo warriors had been stalking 
 their hereditary enemies and had just chanced to come in 
 firing range of the Moros at the moment of their attack of his 
 column. 
 
 This and no more could Tony make of the incident. 
 
 But, whatever the facts, it was very grateful, indeed, he was 
 for their providential aid. 
 
 Just fancy it! 
 
 What coincidence could be more weird than the purely ac 
 cidental saving of his life by his dearly-loved Esa s own 
 tribesmen who had doubtless been frightened to rapid 
 flight by the heavy rifle fire! 
 
 [ 252 ]
 
 CHAPTER LI 1 1 
 RUTH S JOURNEY HOME 
 
 It had been a hard day for Governor Morine as well as for 
 Captain Tony Trigg, had been that of the departure of the lat 
 ter s expedition for the hill country lying between Mt. Apo 
 and Davao Bay. 
 
 Other expeditions were being organized, and for him there 
 had been no rest since dawn. Thus, as soon as Tony s launch 
 had steamed away on the flooding tide, the Governor return 
 ed to his quarters bent on a hasty supper and an early turn 
 in. 
 
 But scarcely was he comfortably settled at his supper when 
 he heard bare feet bounding up the steps that led to the gal 
 lery of his quarters, and in rushed a wild-eyed native woman 
 whom he recognized as one of Ruth Snell s domestics. Up 
 close beside him she rushed and stood stock-still, her lips 
 moving nervously but speechless. 
 
 "Well, well! What is it? Speak?" ordered the Governor. 
 
 But still the woman stood trembling, staring, silent. 
 
 Springing up and seizing her shoulder and snaking her the 
 Governor ordered: 
 
 "But speak woman! What is it?" 
 
 "The white woman the mistress I think is dead. She 
 lays-" 
 
 But without waiting to hear more, the Governor sent his 
 mess boy for the post surgeon and raced out of his own quar 
 ters and across to Ruth s. 
 
 As he bounded up the steps, through the dusk he saw the 
 slim white figure of Ruth naturally enough extended in one 
 of the long lounge chairs, but with the head lopped over and 
 resting on her right shoulder, in a suspiciously unnatural 
 position. 
 
 Another leap and he was at her side and as he sought to 
 raise the drooping head, his heart stood still of the shock of 
 
 [253] 
 
 f.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 finding her drenched in blood, the beautiful head half severed 
 by a down stroke of a bolo, that, delivered from the side by 
 some stealthy assassin who had crept upon her through the 
 darkness from the rear, had cut deeply into the collar bone. 
 
 No surgeon could do anything for Ruth. 
 
 Her death had been instantaneous. 
 
 For perhaps five minutes, indeed until the arrival of the 
 surgeon, Governor Morine stood overwhelmed, his eyes filled 
 with tears tears for the sweet, pure, young life of this girl 
 of rarely high ideals, extinguished in its early morning, and 
 tears for the irreparable grief it must cause her lover, whom 
 he himself had come to love as a brother. 
 
 In such moments, overwhelmed by calamity though one 
 may be, the thoughts race quickly. 
 
 Joe Morine found himself wondering whether, perchance, 
 after all, Providence had not been working in a most fright 
 fully cruel way but with kindly intent. 
 
 For Ruth Snell intellectually he held the highest esteem, so 
 held and admired her more than any woman he had ever 
 known, and for her he felt the warmest friendship; but surely 
 God must know, as he himself well knew, that never could 
 peace, or much less happiness or even content, result from 
 the mating of two such diametrically remote opposites as 
 Ruth and Tony he, hot-blooded and almost as unbridled 
 as ever was the lustiest berserker, she apparently as com 
 pletely passionless as are the unsexed. 
 
 For, of course, not even to him had Tony confided the least 
 hint of his disappointments, much less of his break with Ruth. 
 
 How would the madly-loving Tony ever manage to survive 
 this affliction? 
 
 If this were really the working of a Providence that would 
 finish as kindly as it had begun, then surely he would never 
 set eyes on Tony again some unmarked grave in the jungle 
 must shortly hold his bones. 
 
 Surely, just that Tony himself would prefer, to confront 
 ing news of the loss by such terrible means of the woman he 
 idolized. 
 
 [254]
 
 RUTH S JOURNEY HOME 
 
 But presently he was roused by the coming of the surgeon. 
 
 Lights were brought and the people of the household sum 
 moned to reveal no more than Governor Morine had di 
 vined in the darkness, except that on the floor of the gallery 
 beside her lay a bolo of a sort commonly used for domestic 
 purposes and identified as one belonging to the house. Evi 
 dently, it had been found and appropriated by the assassin, 
 the better to conceal his identity. 
 
 At the very first instant Governor Morine concentrated his 
 mind upon the discovery and punishment of the assassin, his 
 suspicions settled fixedly upon Esa. 
 
 Of no other could he think as likely to so bitterly hate this 
 sweet girl, whose life since she came to Cotabato had been 
 devoted to the teaching of the native young and the succour 
 ing of the native sick, as to prompt such a ruthless butchery. 
 
 It must be Esa, and it was of her he first asked when he be 
 gan a searching cross-examination of all the natives of the 
 household. 
 
 But one and all agreed, were positive, that Esa had not been 
 in or near the house since, shortly after mid-day, she had left 
 it to follow her mistress to school. Not one had seen her after 
 that hour, and surely one or another must have seen her had 
 she returned to the quarters or been around the vicinity. 
 
 Well, then, what had happened when the white woman re 
 turned from school? 
 
 She returned quite as usual. After an early supper she had 
 passed out to the gallery and had seated herself precisely 
 where she was found, very shortly after sunset and night had 
 fallen. 
 
 Had they heard or seen no one with her? Had they heard 
 no voices or seen no one come to her or approaching or lurk 
 ing about the house? 
 
 No. None had heard voices; none had approached her on 
 the veranda, so far as any knew; but in the early dusk two 
 had seen a Moro youth twice pass the house, and though they 
 took him to be Tumog, the son of Dikaya, they could not 
 surely say, for the light was already very dim. The last they 
 
 [255]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 saw of him he had stopped near the corner of the gallery far 
 thest from where Ruth sat, but since he was quietly standing 
 with his back to the house nothing was thought of the inci 
 dent. 
 
 Ha! Tumog, to be sure, was a possible assassin, with a posi 
 tive motive. For was not he the very youth who drew his 
 kris on Ruth when she ordered him out of the school for 
 wearing his arms, the time Esa s vigilance and prompt action 
 saved her? 
 
 Tumog! It certainly must be Tumog! 
 
 The Governor, it may be remembered was never slow. Thus 
 it was that very few minutes elapsed before he had surround 
 ed the house where Tumog lived with a detail of police, but 
 only to find him absent. And when it took nearly an all-night 
 house-to-house search to finally locate him in one of the out 
 lying huts of the town and to there arrest him, naturally the 
 Governor s suspicions were greatly strengthened. 
 
 Nor were the suspicions materially allayed when Tumog 
 swore by the Prophet and by Balbal that he knew nothing 
 whatever of the crime, and that it was a still hunt of a girl 
 he was attached to that had taken him abroad from his home, 
 notwithstanding there was not the least stain on his weapons 
 or person to connect him with the crime. 
 
 Tumog had a motive. Who else but Esa had? And she had 
 not been near the house. 
 
 Throughout the following day the Governor and his agents 
 fmetoothcombed the town for someone who could throw 
 light on the murder, but with small result. Indeed, there was 
 no result except that a servant of the quarters next adjoining 
 Ruth s had also seen a Moro youth lurking near the corner 
 of her gallery just at nightfall. 
 
 Esa none had seen since shortly after the dismissal of Ruth s 
 afternoon class. 
 
 And when the Governor s search of the town for evidence 
 was ended without finding Esa or any trace of her, wise as are 
 few men in the simple psychology of crude native minds, he 
 jumped to the conclusion that Esa had followed Tony off, 
 
 [256]
 
 RUTH S JOURNEY HOME 
 
 had managed to stow herself away on the launch during the 
 bustle of embarking Tony s men and supplies. 
 
 That would be the wholly natural thing for her to do. 
 
 And if she had followed Tony, that certainly freed her of all 
 suspicion, freed her completely. 
 
 Savage reasoning is very simple and direct. 
 
 The savage meets emergencies as they arise, deals with 
 them on impulse. 
 
 Had Tony been remaining in Cotabato, any day or hour his 
 constant attentions to Ruth might rouse Esa s jealousy to a 
 pitch to inspire her to do Ruth violence. Indeed, while he so 
 remained Ruth would never for a moment be wholly safe 
 from Esa. 
 
 But once he was ordered into the field, all Esa s anxieties 
 about her rival would vanish and all her thoughts be concen 
 trated on some scheme to follow and stay near him. 
 
 That would be the savage of it. 
 
 So Esa had surely figured and so to a certainty she had 
 managed to follow him, innocent and ignorant of Ruth s 
 death as was Tony himself. 
 
 And for the fact that she must be innocent, Joe Morine was 
 very thankful; for not only did he feel grateful to the girl for 
 averting further trouble with the Datu Linta and for saving 
 Tony Trigg s life, but he had also come to have a certain re 
 spect for her rare intelligence, boldness and independence, 
 so much that it would be for him a most unpleasant task to 
 have to deal with her for some crime. 
 
 But ferret and delve tirelessly as he did, no positive proof 
 fixing the crime on Tumog could the Governor find. Still, 
 there was no shadow of a doubt in his mind that the Moro 
 boy was guilty, and so he was kept heavily ironed in the guard 
 house, on the chance that time might develop positive proof. 
 
 And when, a few days later, the transport by which poor 
 Ruth Snell had planned to begin her journey home with Esa 
 sailed away into the north, it carried the body of the martyr 
 to James SnelPs heartless greed. 
 
 [257]
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 ESA S RETURN TO MT. APO 
 
 Ho ! Ho ! But couldn t she scream with delight, if she dared ! 
 
 But the Son of Fire and his marching column of little brown 
 terriers must still be within earshot, and there might be a 
 marauding band of the Maratuns prowling on the river. 
 
 At last she was once more afloat on her dearly-loved Mal- 
 bul, stripped of the Moro turban and habit that had so well 
 served to disguise her on the journey by launch to the junc 
 tion of the Malbul and the Kabakan. 
 
 Now and hereafter she could count on the aid of Dewata for 
 sure ; now that she had understood His will and was so promptly 
 responding to it, His red eye would guide her, His mighty 
 hand protect her. 
 
 Surely, He must have called Munowog away and sent the 
 good Limbings to bring her the little vinta she had found hid 
 den in the cana brava, within a few yards of where Tony land 
 ed his troops, for just thereabouts no people dwell. 
 
 Oh! the brave offering she would make to Dewata and the 
 good Limbings as soon as she reached Pugsan ! Nor will it be 
 well for her to forget Toomulkun, who doubtless brought De 
 wata s word to the Limbings. 
 
 Ah, but the terrible wrench it was to see the Son of Fire 
 march away at the head of his men, to peer from her conceal 
 ment in the reeds and strain her eyes for a last glimpse of the 
 mighty figure of him who nearly crushed her when he took 
 her in his arms. 
 
 But Dewata! His will must first be done and then she would 
 do hers then the marches of the Son of Fire should not be 
 so long or his sign so faint that Esa would not overtake and 
 hover near him! 
 
 Never should the Son of Fire escape her! 
 
 At the best, her journey must be a long one. She must has 
 ten. The distance she had drifted down stream in a day 
 
 [259]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 when captive to the old slave-raider, the Saligan Ishmael, 
 she could not hope to retrace against the current in less than 
 six days. 
 
 So furiously plied her paddle throughout the night, with no 
 more than brief intervals of rest, ever keeping within slower 
 waters near the bank and getting the advantage of all the 
 remansos, the swift backwater always found where the bank 
 is deeply indented. 
 
 But no more was the dawn brightening the east than the 
 cunning jungle girl worked her craft into concealment deep 
 within a wide belt of cana brava. Alone and weaponless, it 
 would be madness to travel by day, for any turn of a bend 
 might expose her to some enemy. The Maratuns she knew 
 were out, and, long lacking jungle news as she did, she had 
 no notion of what inter-clan wars might not be on. 
 
 Her craft well hidden, a very few minutes sufficed to collect 
 and stow away a hearty breakfast of jungle products; and 
 then she quickly swarmed up lianas into the leafy seclusion 
 of a lofty tree top, where, gently rocked by the cool breezes 
 blowing down from Mt. Apo, she safely slept throughout the 
 day. 
 
 Evening come, down to the lower branches of her aerial bed 
 chamber Esa softly slipped, there stopping long, listening 
 and cautiously peering about until quite sure no folk were 
 near and then slid down a bejuco, swift as a ray of light, 
 foraged her supper, worked the vinta out of its concealment 
 and again bent hard to her paddle. 
 
 And so, wearily up stream she toiled, night by night. Hour 
 ly, swifter grew the current as she penetrated deeper into the 
 bosom of the hills, and the slower was her progress. Muscles 
 ached cruelly, but her brave will never weakened : she must 
 hasten, to become free to race to him! 
 
 It was the dawn of the seventh morning since leaving the 
 launch when Esa landed behind the bend next below Pugsan. 
 
 Stealthily she crept forward, writhing through the vines and 
 undergrowth easily and noiselessly as a python. 
 
 Presently she could hear the splashings and shouts of her 
 
 [260]
 
 ESA S RETURN TO MT. APO 
 
 clanfolk, disporting themselves in the MalbuFs cool pools. 
 
 On and on she crept, nearer and nearer. 
 
 It was the height of the hot season, and so the clanfolk lin 
 gered long in the river. 
 
 And when, finally, they came trooping back from the river, 
 while passing near the great Council Chamber where it had 
 been their wont to assemble to listen to the tales of their 
 Lukus and the instruction of their Ingorandy, they got the 
 fright of their lives. 
 
 What in Dewatas mighty name was that? 
 
 All stopped stock still, frozen stiff, of surprise and terror. 
 
 Yes, they could not be mistaken; out there in the Council 
 Chamber rose and fell the low melodious notes of a kuteeha- 
 pee, accompanying a sweet voice that softly intoned their 
 favorite tale! 
 
 Ye Gods of Mt. Apo, but what else could it be but the spirit 
 of their Lukus, the great Usup ! 
 
 His very spirit, it must be, for never in life was his voice so 
 sweet ! 
 
 And since the spirits of the dead are no more welcome visi 
 tors among savage than among civilized folk, in another in 
 stant all were racing in mad terror into the jungle, led by the 
 sturdy figure of their doughty young chief, Tugan, son of 
 Punungan. 
 
 But just as he was plunging into the bush, a scream of 
 laughter reached Tugan s ears, and a familiar voice cried: 
 
 "Stop, foolish Tugan! It s I, Esa, returned to you!" 
 
 And it was a very crestfallen Tugan who first halted and 
 then made his way back very gingerly into the Council 
 Chamber, until upon near approach he made sure it was 
 really Esa in the very flesh. 
 
 Then, his face blazing with joy over the return of the idol 
 of his boyhood, upon her the young stalwart rushed. 
 
 But when he made to seize her in his arms, he got a heavy 
 slap on the cheek that sent him reeling and made him realize 
 that the slender idol of his youth had matured into a very 
 powerful young woman.
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 Quickly round about them thronged the clanfolk, wild with 
 delight to see her, treating her with familiarity, like the child 
 she was when she left them. 
 
 But after kindly greetings to right and left, Esa drew her 
 self up and in the cold, hard tones Tugan had long ago learn 
 ed to dread, tones like Punungan used to the warriors, she 
 said: 
 
 "Back, my children, and listen. Usup and Lancona are 
 dead." 
 
 "Ah, the great Usup and the good Lancona have gone to 
 join Punungan?" interrupted Tugan. 
 
 "Yes, Tugan; Dewata called them. 
 
 "And now it is your Ingorandy and Lukus who stands be 
 fore you in the person of Esa ! For by Dewata s will, since her 
 childhood, and up to the hour of his death, Usup was ever 
 training Esa in the tribal lore and magic. 
 
 "And in Esa also behold your Medicine Woman, for Lan 
 cona made her wise as was she herself of the good and the 
 bad magic of all the plant life of the jungle. 
 
 "So remember, and mark her well; it is only through Esa 
 you may invoke Dewata s mercy, only of Esa receive the 
 tribal lore." 
 
 At the first note of Esa s cold tones, the chatter of the clan- 
 folk ceased and faces fell grave of awe; Tugan s gravest of 
 all. 
 
 But presently Tugan s face brightened and he said : 
 
 "And now it is come true, Tugan is glad. Don t you remem 
 ber, little Esa, how Tugan divined it the day we fought the 
 python and the wild boar?" 
 
 "Yes, good Tugan," Esa quietly answered, "and it was her 
 knowledge that one day this power must be hers that you 
 used to think made Esa look right through you, like you were 
 not there." 
 
 Whereupon Tugan and others standing near shivered and 
 drew back. For here among them again once more stood a 
 familiar of the mighty Dewata! 
 
 That was a busy day for Esa. 
 
 [262]
 
 ESA S RETURN TO MT. APO 
 
 She gave herself no rest felt she dared not lose a moment s 
 time. 
 
 She must get to him, to the Son of Fire. 
 
 The afternoon she spent in the Council Chamber, first 
 listening to such as sought her intercession with Dewata. 
 And since so long all had been denied it, naturally few were 
 those who did not so appeal to her. 
 
 And this task finished, toward evening for an hour she held 
 them spellbound with tales of the slavery of Usup, Lan- 
 cona and herself among the Moros, of the vileness of the 
 Moro Datus and the Chino traders, of the marvellous magic 
 of the Mergans. 
 
 At nightfall, tired as she was, aloft to her old nest in the tree 
 tops Esa led Tugan. She must have an understanding with 
 him. 
 
 And it was a very meek and respectful Tugan who followed 
 her, for his jaw was still sore of the blow with which she had 
 received his first greeting. 
 
 But now Esa was gentle and kind, as of old, and in a mo 
 ment had him all smiles when she said: 
 
 "I always knew my good Tugan would make a great chief. 
 Tugan has done well. Already our clan is nearly twice as 
 strong as under Punungan." 
 
 "Tugan is glad Esa has returned to learn that Tugan has 
 fought many battles, won much loot, killed many Moros. 
 Tugan thought they had killed Esa, and he warred the Moros 
 until they withdrew farther outside the hills than he dared 
 follow." 
 
 "Tugan has indeed done well to so win peace and plenty 
 for our people. But Tugan does not know that the Mergans 
 have driven the terrible Maratuns and many other Moros 
 up into the hills. They re ranging now all about us, perhaps 
 near, certainly not very many days travel distant." 
 
 "So! The Maratuns out! Then I must advance and double 
 my guards." 
 
 "By all means. But the Mergan warriors are now on the 
 trail of the Maratuns, and it is of that I want to speak to Tu- 
 
 [263]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 gan. Since the Mergans are pursuing our enemies, the Mara- 
 tuns, to their death, the very same Maratuns who raided and 
 ravished our village of Pugsan, Esa would lead a small band 
 of our warriors to the Mergans aid, for there may be rare 
 chances to sink our poisoned blow-gun darts deep into the 
 hated Moro flesh." 
 
 "Well thought, is that, little Esa; but it is Tugan s place to 
 lead our warriors." 
 
 Instantly the soft voice hardened and the great luminous 
 almond eyes glittered fire as Esa answered: 
 
 "Perhaps Tugan did not understand Esa; she said she would 
 lead our warriors." 
 
 "Well, well," stammered poor Tugan; "it s just like it was 
 before you went away. I just felt you d one day have to be 
 Chief as well as Lukus and Ingorandy." 
 
 "By no means, good Tugan. Esa wants you, for the clan s 
 chief so long as you do her will. But mind you do that, lad; 
 mind you do Esa s will! Against Esa s magic none can pre 
 vail! Esa holds all lives in the hollow of her hand!" 
 
 PoorTugan was hit so hard he shrank back and nearly pitched 
 off their lofty perch, for perhaps more even than the mighty 
 Dewatas wrath did he fear Esa when her tones grew cold. 
 
 "But it shall be just as you say, little Esa, in everything. 
 Only only Tugan he still wants you like he used to. 
 Won t Esa will to let Tugan have her to to be his?" 
 
 Her voice was very gentle but her face and eyes stayed hard 
 as flint, as Esa answered, "No, Tugan, you re never, never, 
 to think of that again, much less speak of it to Esa. You are 
 a good Tugan, and Esa likes you better than better than 
 almost anyone. But Esa will do her own choosing and mind 
 you never question her on her choice!" 
 
 "It makes me hurt all over to hear that, little Esa, but al 
 ways shall things be just as you say." 
 
 "Ah, good Tugan, that s what I expected of you ; and we ll 
 I ll make this the strongest Monobo clan in all these forests. 
 Esa may go from you, but she will come back and always 
 shall you be protected by her magic." 
 
 [264]
 
 ESA S RETURN TO MT. APO 
 
 It was evening of the fourth day after her arrival at Pugsan 
 before Esa, acting in her capacity as Ingorandy had managed 
 to finish her invocations of Dewatas mercy over the innu 
 merable offerings tendered by her long-neglected tribesmen. 
 
 But once this absolutely necessary task was concluded, the 
 early dusk found Esa stealing swiftly through the jungle at 
 the head of a little column of twenty of Pugsan s boldest 
 warriors, all armed to the teeth with their blow-guns, spears, 
 and bows and arrows, in eager quest of the Son of Fire.
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 In the morning Captain Tony Trigg and his company of little 
 brown terriers would be back in Cotabato. Their three 
 months campaign through the hills lying between Mt. Apo 
 and Davao Bay was ended. They had embarked that morn 
 ing at the junction of the Malbul and the Kabakan Rivers, 
 on a launch summoned by a message he had sent to head 
 quarters by vinta. 
 
 But it was an altogether horrid sight they would make when 
 they disembarked at Cotabato. 
 
 The launch had come none too soon, for many of the men 
 were scarcely able to stand, near complete collapse of weak 
 ness. For three months they had been hiking through the 
 jungles, strangers to rest, the last month living on roots and 
 wild forest products, eked out with little monkey or wild pig 
 meat, as it had been seldom Captain Trigg had ventured to 
 disclose his presence by game shooting while on the trail of 
 the Maratuns. The enemy must first be struck; then the 
 survivors could feed and fatten. 
 
 All were tangled of beard and hair as the jungles they had 
 been threading, nearly naked, wasted to nothing but skin 
 and bone. 
 
 A number of men were wholly naked, their cartridge belts 
 encircling bare loins. 
 
 Mere walking skeletons of men were they all, ghastly, grin 
 ning of face as ever are fleshless skulls. 
 
 However, there were no gaps in their ranks; they were all 
 there, every last one of the little brown terriers that had 
 started out, thanks to Captain Trigg s tireless vigils and clever 
 bush strategy, and there were no wounded. 
 
 At least none of his original command was wounded, but 
 one recruit who had joined him near the end of the campaign 
 was so badly slashed in the side, of a kris cut, that it caused 
 
 [267]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 the Captain keen anxiety and with abundant good reason, 
 for it was to the courage and adroitness of this recruit that 
 he owed his life. 
 
 Warned by the launch whistle of their approach, the Gov 
 ernor was at the landing to meet them. 
 
 Loud and cordial were the greetings, and as the terriers 
 came feebly wobbling over the gang-plank, Morine sympa 
 thetically remarked, "Good God, Tony, it s a bunch of skele 
 tons you all are, but it looks like you ve not lost any of your 
 little lot." 
 
 "Nary a one, Joe, and none wounded. Just good luck, of 
 course." 
 
 "Good luck be d d; it s thanks to your rare good bush 
 training. But no wounded? What s that they re carrying 
 ashore?" indicating a stretcher that four of the men were 
 carrying. 
 
 "That, Joe? Oh, that s well, Joe, that s a recruit that join 
 ed us during my scrap with the Maratuns, and took some 
 kris slashes that otherwise I should have had to myself as 
 similate," Tony rather awkwardly stammered. 
 
 "A recruit! What do you mean? That s a new game, re 
 cruiting in the jungle, no?" 
 
 "Well, yes, I guess it is and this one recruited itself, just 
 naturally volunteered, see?" 
 
 "Oh! But who the devil is it?" 
 
 "Sorta thought you d guess, Joe," Tony rather sheepishly 
 answered; "it s why, Joe, it s Esa." 
 
 "The hell! Might have known it, if I d had a lick of sense;" 
 followed by a laugh Tony so little appreciated that he rather 
 sharply warned: 
 
 "Might cut out that laugh, Joe. It s only twice that Esa 
 has actually saved my life since I first hit the trail of the 
 Maratuns. But for her, your old mate would be rotting out 
 there in the bush." 
 
 "Pardon a thousand times, Tony," the Governor seriously 
 answered; "d d heedless of me and I m very sorry. That 
 makes three times, then, counting the scrap you had at Gan- 
 
 [268]
 
 HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 ta, when she nipped the Moro s heel. Don t wonder at your 
 appreciation, my boy; she s about the most practical ex 
 ample of a Guardian Angel I ever heard of." 
 
 "Dead right you are, Joe; but excuse me, please, for I want 
 to see her safely stowed at the hospital." 
 
 "Right-o lad, and then hustle down to chow and spin me 
 your yarn." 
 
 That comfortable and generous breakfast was a great lux 
 ury to Tony, but of it he ate very sparingly, too wise to over 
 load a stomach weakened and shrunken of long fasting. 
 
 The meal over, the Governor eagerly urged, "And now for 
 your yarn, my boy. Must have had one rotter of a time by 
 the condition you re all in." 
 
 "About the roughest I ever bucked into, Joe, and I m sick 
 of it not of the hardship or fighting, mind, but of potting 
 brave men that have no show against our arms. But we ll 
 come to that later. First, I want to tell you about Esa. 
 
 "You see, it s this way. The day we sailed I saw nothing of 
 her, but that night she smuggled herself aboard the launch 
 so cleverly disguised that none recognized her, either aboard 
 or after we disembarked. And once landed at the mouth of 
 the Malbul, she stole a small vinta and slipped away up 
 stream to join her people." 
 
 "Sure; sure as shooting; I was certain of it," the Governor 
 answered, "only I fancied she d stick tight to you, never leave 
 you." 
 
 "Ah, Joe, but she was too clever for that or maybe feared 
 I d send her back. But I guess it was all just her wonderful 
 strategy. You couldn t beat it in a thousand years, Joe. She 
 figured, and dead right, too, that our biggest danger was from 
 flank or night attacks. And what the devil did she do but re 
 turn to her village, gather a bunch of her Monobo warriors 
 and split criss-crossing through the bush until she finally cut 
 my trail. 
 
 "Fact is, she got to us shortly after I first struck the sign of 
 the Maratuns, but never once showed up. But day by day 
 and night by night she and her wild warriors were stealing 
 
 [269]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 through the jungle silently as leopards, screening my flanks 
 and advance, and prowling around us of nights. 
 
 "Three different nights, she says, the Maratuns tried to 
 sneak us, but got such a peppering from her blow-guns that 
 they bunked. And I guess that s right enough, for one day 
 she saved me from an ambush even dropped a dead Moro 
 into my arms when I was sure his meat axe was about to chop 
 my head off and left me the worst puzzled guy you ever 
 saw, for the only sign of our helpers was the arrows with which 
 they decorated our enemies." 
 
 "But for the Lord s sake, do you mean to say that you saw 
 none of the Monobos, Tony, through the days and weeks 
 they were haunting your trail?" 
 
 "Nary a single glimpse, Joe not until the final scrap, and 
 then none but Esa." 
 
 "Well, if that don t beat all the scouting I ever heard of." 
 
 "Ha, but the finish, Joe; listen to that. Why that was when 
 she just naturally set a new record in the Guardian Angel 
 business. 
 
 "We were about all in, scarcely another day s march left in 
 us, when one evening, shortly after making our night camp, 
 my sergeant called my attention to the dull glow of camp 
 fires in the valley below us, and perhaps three hundred yards 
 distant. The Maratuns must have thought they had thrown 
 us off their scent, I suppose. Anyway, there they were at 
 last, a gift in the last nick of time if I made no bad break 
 stalking them. 
 
 "To the right I sent my sergeant and fifteen men to swing 
 past them to the valley and slip up stream on them; my teni- 
 ente led another detail straight at them, ordered to get as 
 near as he could and lay low until the sergeant s column and 
 mine were in position, while I led the rest of my men to the 
 left. 
 
 "Of course the teniente was the first to get into position, on a 
 high bank commanding their camp and only fifteen yards 
 from it. 
 
 "I had reached the valley and deployed my men in open 
 
 [270]
 
 HIS GUARDIAN ANGEL 
 
 order across it, and was sneaking slowly down stream, when 
 suddenly from behind a tree I had laid my hand on to save 
 myself from a slip, out sprang a Moro sentry, racing down 
 toward their camp and shouting, "Mergans! Mergans! 
 
 "Instantly the teniente opened fire on the startled camp, fol 
 lowed shortly by fire from the sergeant s column, while I 
 held my fire and awaited the rush I was sure would come as 
 soon as they realized that escape down stream was cut off. 
 
 "God, but it was a scandal the way our dum-dummed 
 Spitzer bullets cut up that brave lot, men, women and chil 
 dren alike, but help it we, of course, couldn t. Some charged 
 straight into our flankers, some into the sergeant, but the 
 bulk burst up stream, where my silence had led them to think 
 they might escape. 
 
 "On they came, men, women and children, in a wild rush; 
 but holding my fire until they were within ten yards of us, 
 over they bowled like trees before a cyclone when we opened. 
 
 "A lot of it was pitiful. One woman carrying a baby and 
 aided by her husband, was hit by a Spitzer that killed the 
 baby, nearly tore one arm free of the shoulder and left very 
 little flesh above the elbow, we later learned, but at that did 
 not knock her down. 
 
 "At this, her husband furiously rushed at us, coming straight 
 at me, as it chanced. By that time the magazine of my car 
 bine was exhausted. But I was not worrying as I rapidly 
 emptied my pistol into him, for I knew that my men were 
 also shelling him. 
 
 "That was about the most God-awful sight ever sprung on 
 me, Joe. D d if I didn t want to help him, would have spar 
 ed that Moro if I could, for he was just splendid, charging on 
 nothing but his nerve, for I knew I was not missing him and 
 that at every jump he was chambering the Spitzers of my 
 
 men. 
 "Yet 
 
 on he came, like we were peppering him with pea shoot 
 ers, until my pistol was empty, and I threw it at nis head 
 and missed! 
 "Just one more jump and he d have me meat-axed! 
 
 [271 ]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 "And if you want to know, I was telling Tony Trigg adios 
 when what the devil do you think? Under my arm slipped 
 a slim dark figure that leaped through the air at my Moro 
 like a panther and down they went together! 
 
 "Well, as soon as I could shake the surprise of it and look 
 the pair over, there lay Esa, badly gashed by his kris, and 
 beside her lay the Moro, with the long chonta point of a Mon- 
 obo spear driven clean through his heart!" 
 
 "By God, she s a girl in a million!" the Governor enthusi 
 astically interrupted. 
 
 "Little off in your calculation, Joe," Tony quietly answered, 
 "I m figuring she s about one in ten millions. Jesus! but 
 where would you find her equal?" 
 
 "Well, I m not taking the job of hunting one. If she isn t a 
 finished article as a warrior s mate, then one was never foaled. 
 And the Moro I suppose he finally consented to quit." 
 
 "Not til he got Esa s spear-thrust, Joe, though there were 
 fourteen bullet holes in him!" 
 
 [272]
 
 CHAPTER LVI 
 THE MARTYR TO THANKLESS WORK 
 
 When Captain Tony Trigg had finished his story of the death 
 of the Maratun who had been stopped by Esa s spear-thrust, 
 both Governor Morine and he for some time sat silent. But 
 finally the Governor remarked: 
 
 "Of course, wounded as she was, you had to bring her back 
 here." 
 
 "Sure, Joe; wouldn t you?" 
 
 "Yes, certainly; I didn t mean you shouldn t. But what of 
 your Maratuns?" 
 
 "Oh, Lord, Joe, that little valley was just a shambles. Don t 
 believe a half-dozen escaped. Left eighty odd of them there 
 in the bush, food for the vultures and the pigs, for the boys 
 finished the wounded with bolos or bayonets, as usual, all 
 but three women whose wounds were not so bad it was not 
 worth while to try to bring them in. 
 
 "And not one of my men got so much as a scratch. What do 
 you think of that? Just couldn t get to us. Several had as 
 close calls as I, but not one of the poor devils of Maratuns, 
 the very best of all the Moro warriors, managed to score on 
 us. 
 
 "Fact is, it has sickened me of the game, so disgusted me 
 you needn t be surprised if I throw up my commission. I m 
 just d d if I believe I can stand any more of this butchery. 
 Sure it s fighting, and fighting like hell, where a man has got 
 to rattle his hocks to get to stay on earth, but so he knows the 
 game these Morosjust cant get to him. Better take to the bush 
 than stick to this bloody game, I m thinking." 
 
 "Take to the bush? What do you mean, Tony?" 
 
 "Oh why take to any old game or place," Tony parried. 
 
 "Ah, yes; I see. Don t blame you, me. My resignation is in 
 and I m off for Manila myself shortly, for all my hopes of 
 
 [273]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 peace and industry here are vanished. And what of this Mon- 
 obo girl when she comes out of the hospital, Tony?* 
 
 "Well, Joe, I may as well admit that s bothering me a lot. 
 Guess it would be better all round if she d stayed and gone 
 to the States, as Ruth was planning she should. But maybe 
 you didn t know that; maybe Ruth never told you." 
 
 "Why, no no," the Governor hesitated. 
 
 "Sure; told me she d decided to throw up her school and 
 take Esa home to the States, meant to regularly adopt her, 
 educate her, and all that. But now Ruth must be gone these 
 two months or more, no? She said she was going on the next 
 transport after I left. Did she?" 
 
 Governor Morine s face fell and he paled, but Tony did not 
 notice it, as he answered : 
 
 "Yes, my boy, Ruth Snell is gone home by the transport 
 you say she had planned to take." 
 
 "And, of course, you ve heard from her; she wrote from 
 Manila, no?" 
 
 "N o, Tony, not a word from her have I received." 
 
 "What? That s strange, after you were such good pals." 
 And then after a brief pause, Tony added, "You you didn t 
 split with Ruth, too, did you, Joe, like like I did?" 
 
 "Break with her? No, thank God. But you you broke 
 with her, Tony?" 
 
 "Yes, Joe, the night before I embarked for the field we both 
 agreed we must always disagree. God, Joe, but I loved Ruth 
 Snell well, knowing me, perhaps you can realize how much 
 and maybe she cared as much for me as she could for any 
 body, but well, I guess it was just a misfit in temperatures, 
 and finally both of us became convinced of it. 
 
 "It s been the hardest wrench of my life to tear that girl out 
 of my heart, Joe; had me bitterly struggling through many 
 a lonely jungle march but now, at last, I m safe and sane 
 again, ready to pack my cargo and hump along life s trail, by 
 well, I guess by myself." 
 
 The Governor rose nervously, strolled back and forth across 
 the room several times in silence, and then approaching 
 
 [274]
 
 THE MARTYR TO THANKLESS WORK 
 
 Captain Trigg and putting an arm affectionately around his 
 shoulders and looking down into his eyes, whispered: 
 
 "I m sorry, boy, but you ve got to know it." 
 
 "What what s up, Joe? Got to know what? You frighten 
 me. Is she here? Has has anything happened?" 
 
 "Ruth is gone home gone to her long home, is Ruth Snell, 
 my dear Tony." 
 
 "Christ! You don t mean that?" 
 
 "Yes, my boy, Ruth Snell died a martyr to our thankless 
 work out here, to the task of intervention to better these 
 natives that is costing the States so heavily in blood and 
 treasure." 
 
 "Dead, Joe? Ruth dead? But how? Of what, please?" 
 
 Stammering, halting, in few words as possible, Joe told 
 Tony the sadly gruesome facts and then for some time 
 these two strong men sat with bowed heads and covered eyes. 
 
 Finally, Tony sprang to his feet and cried, "Tumog! Joe, 
 where s Tumog? I ll go slash off his ears and make him eat 
 them slit his d~d assassin s carcass into ribbons. Where is 
 he?" 
 
 "Tumog is in the guard house where you ll leave him alone, 
 Tony. No use; I ve gone my limit to find evidence to war 
 rant dealing with him, but there s none to justify it." 
 
 Tony Trigg was a hard man to hold when his resentment 
 was aroused, but he had his master in Joe Morine, whom no 
 man long contraried once his glinting steel-blue eyes narrow 
 ed and the laughing mouth straightened to an ugly slit. 
 
 So, presently ,Tony cooled down and quietly answered,"Sup- 
 pose you re right, Joe; you about always are. And," grabbing 
 Morine fiercely by the shoulders, "don t I know you d have 
 murdered him yourself if there d been any sort of excuse for 
 it!" 
 
 And then without further words, he left the house and sought 
 his quarters. 
 
 275]
 
 CHAPTER LVII 
 BROODING OVER GRIM PICTURES 
 
 It was a fortnight later, the evening before Governor Mor- 
 ine was to sail for Manila, and Tony was come to his quar 
 ters for a farewell visit. 
 
 For Tony it had been a fortnight of physical rest that was 
 very grateful, but of the most acute mental trial. 
 
 He was sick of baiting and butchering Moros, but it would 
 be a terrible wrench to quit the service. 
 
 His mad man s love for Ruth Snell she herself had effaced, 
 but there remained his love of all he had hoped she would 
 one day mean to him, and it is perhaps our vanished ideals 
 that we often mourn most. 
 
 Then there was his future and Esa s for strive as he 
 would he could not dissociate his future from hers. That was 
 just out of the question. She had been too much to him, in 
 too many respects. 
 
 Esa couldn t say she loved him, for she knew no such word, 
 but great God, how royally she could live love! 
 
 Had saved his life three times, each time at deadly peril of 
 her own ! Red blood ! Hers was the reddest of the red. 
 
 What a contrast she with the types of metropolitan women 
 who must ever be whetting their anaemic sensibilities at mat 
 inees and whose chance-taking is limited to a stake at bridge 
 or to the outrage rather than a defense of their husband s 
 honor the apartment-hotel-dwelling sort, who, ceasing to 
 discharge any of the useful functions of domestic economy, 
 quickly descend to a class it is unnecessary to name, become 
 parasitic burdens instead of helpmates. 
 
 And since even yet all men are battlers, in one way or anoth 
 er, at one game of life or another, who would not prefer a 
 devoted, bold-hearted, battling helpmate to a trifling oda 
 lisque? Who, at least, of all who are not wholly ignorant of 
 the worth of such high types? Only, of course, few indeed 
 
 [277]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 there are rash enough to be willing to commit themselves to 
 savagery to so advantage themselves. That Tony was not 
 blind to, any more than to the fact that any so adventuring 
 commit themselves to social ostracism. 
 
 But what the devil has society to give that promises and de 
 livers half so much? 
 
 Thus it was a very preoccupied Captain Trigg who dropped 
 into a chair alongside of Morine and so long remained silent 
 that, presently, the latter laid a hand on his arm and sympa 
 thetically asked: 
 
 "Still up a tree, lad? Still puzzling over your plans? I ve 
 been hoping and rather expecting you d decide to sail with 
 me." 
 
 "Hardly that, Joe; not just yet shall I sail. But I don t be 
 lieve I can get my own consent to go out and slaughter any 
 more Moros." 
 
 "Right-o, boy; I ve felt sure of that. But have you heard 
 of the Crater Fight in another of our Moro Provinces?" 
 
 "Why, no, Joe; what sort of an affair was it?" 
 
 "Oh, a proper wholesale massacre this time of no less than 
 sixteen hundred of them. 
 
 "It was this way, the lot had abandoned the rancherias and 
 rice paddys and fled to the mountains on learning the troops 
 were to be sent to compel them to pay taxes on their work 
 beasts. 
 
 "The position they elected to occupy was the interior of an 
 extinct crater, within which there was a spring of fresh water. 
 
 "The upper slopes of the approach to the crater s lip were 
 so precipitous that only at one point was there access to it, 
 after a long and nearly perpendicular climb through dense 
 jungle. Hence they thought the position impregnable. 
 
 "Horse, foot and artillery were sent against them infan 
 try, cavalry, mountain guns and howitzers. 
 
 "The cavalry was left in the open at the foot of the moun 
 tain to pick up stragglers, and the rest of the men, after the 
 most severe labor and some hard fighting, managed to win up
 
 BROODING OVER GRIM PICTURES 
 
 to a position on the edge of the crater whence they could 
 train their guns on the Moros. 
 
 "The slaughter began shortly after noon. 
 
 "The heat, of course, was terrific; and since the firerof our 
 guns and riflemen soon cut them off from access to the spring, 
 by late afternoon the Moros had become so desperate that 
 up they came, charging en masse bound to die or to cut their 
 way out of the trap they were in. 
 
 "As usual, of the Moros there were no survivors, while, also 
 as usual, our casualties were insignificant!" 
 
 "Good God, Joe, you mean it was a total wipe out of sixteen 
 hundred men, women and children? That s the biggest in 
 dividual lot yet bagged." 
 
 "Precisely and is it not horrible? Of course, once the troops 
 had attacked the Moros it became wholly impossible to spare 
 them; you can t spare people who persist in fighting until 
 they are all dead. 
 
 "But, on the other hand, the fact that they are driven to 
 such desperation is due exclusively to the policies pursued by 
 our authorities, the policies that from month to month and 
 from year to year will continue turning more and more of 
 these Moros into outlaws, and getting them so slaughtered, 
 until Congress and the home public learn the shameful 
 facts and the voice of outraged humanity succours them, or 
 until the last of the old fighting blood of this race is extermi 
 nated." 
 
 "You re putting it none too strong, Joe. It s God s truth 
 you re telling. That s just the way I see it. If the local au 
 thorities are allowed to continue to rigidly censor all news of 
 happenings in these provinces, and so manage to keep Con 
 gress and the home public ignorant of the shocking state 
 of affairs here, this warfare is bound to go on indefinitely." 
 
 "Yes, and it further follows that the more timid and time 
 serving Datus who remain on their lands and have been ap 
 pointed by the authorities as Tribal Ward Headmen, the 
 local lovers of loot and women, are perpetuated in their an- 
 
 [279]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 cient privileges and exercise more despotic control over their 
 people than before our coming/ 
 
 For some time both sat silent, brooding over the grim pic 
 tures of the hunting of a race to its death which their conver 
 sation had conjured up. 
 
 Finally, Tony rose and, laying a hand affectionately on the 
 Governor s shoulder, said: 
 
 "Joe, you re doing right to leave, and I trust I m myself not 
 too hopelessly wrong in not leaving with you. I just can t go; 
 not just now, anyway; but here s a communication," passing 
 to Governor Morine a large envelope, "I ask you not to open 
 until you are at sea, which will tell you as much of my plans 
 as I myself now know." 
 
 And then, before Governor Morine had time to answer him, 
 Captain Tony Trigg whirled and left the house. 
 
 It was not until the vessel that bore him was standing in for 
 the port of Zamboanga that Governor Morine opened the 
 large envelope Captain Trigg had given him. The note was 
 very brief and simple. It read : 
 
 "Dear Joe: 
 
 "Please deliver the enclosed at headquarters, as 
 addressed. It contains my resignation from the 
 Constabulary. 
 
 "Think of me sometimes, old mate; and, what 
 ever you may hear, try not to think unkindly of 
 
 Your Old Pal, 
 
 TONY TRIGG." 
 
 For some time Morine sat gravely nodding his head, and 
 then murmured to himself: "He ll never leave that Monobo 
 girl and I m not a d d bit sure I can find it in my heart to 
 blame him." 
 
 [280]
 
 CHAPTER LVIII 
 ADRIFT IN THE MISTS 
 
 No argosy bearing a man and a maid out into the golden 
 morning of love ever carried a lighter cargo. 
 
 Besides his own weapons and her tiny kuteebapee, the vinta 
 held naught but the pair of them. 
 
 And they themselves held naught but their mad love for 
 each other. 
 
 The swift flooding tide was bearing them rapidly inland, 
 straight toward Mt. Apo. 
 
 The paddles lay idle in the bottom of their craft; that was 
 no time for work with paddles. 
 
 Costumed in the height of Monobo fashion, that is to say 
 wearing practically no costume at all, the nymph the sun s 
 rays always turned to burnished gold lay in Tony s arms. 
 
 He wore a look of satisfaction; she wore a smile. 
 
 The sweet-scented night breeze intermingled its sensuous 
 kisses with theirs; the mists caressed them; the river sang 
 to them ; as one hammered their two hearts. 
 
 Their past they have shed, as does a buck its antlers. 
 
 Their future ah, leave that to the Rio Grande s golden 
 flood; let it bear them where it would. 
 
 Esa had him she wanted ; Tony had the girl he loved. 
 
 Basta! Enough. 
 
 Dawn was near. Soon Dewatas great eye would be glowing, 
 scattering the mists that had so well served to isolate the 
 drifting lovers. Soon concealment must be sought ashore. 
 
 Esa reclined sleeping. 
 
 Tony lay dreaming, his head so sweetly pillowed that it was 
 gently rising and sinking as on that never-to-be-forgotten 
 day when it first lay on Esa s moist breast. Dreaming he lay, 
 dreaming of the happiness realized and the happiness yet to 
 be, communing with himself. 
 
 But presently a hateful vision came to him, a horrid vision
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 that easily might have terrorized a heart less bold than his. 
 
 But to it he lazily murmured: 
 
 "Ho! Ho! You here? Well, upon my word as first punish 
 ment to the wicked, you re a wonder. Can t even let a fellow 
 get well started, can you, Mr. Devil? Didn t know there was 
 aerogram service between Mindanao and Hades. Nor, lack 
 ing any confidants, can I figure out who piped me off to you. 
 And my compliments please accept them; as a trailer, your 
 stunt of picking us up out here in the mists entitles you to 
 receive first prize. 
 
 "Ha! So? You re figuring you ve got me? Sinned? Sure I ve 
 sinned and like it, if you want to know, like it so well your 
 torrid bluffs don t go, see? So you just run along and toast 
 your cloven hoofs on your own furnace doors, for they ll soon 
 get frostbitten up here unless you stay close to us. 
 
 "What? What s that? You be doubly damned for the in 
 fernal liar you are. This girl has killed a lot, is a murderess? 
 It s false as your diggings are foul. Of course she has killed, 
 but never once save in self-defence or while battling to pro 
 tect the life of one she loved. That I ll swear by God. She s 
 a queen, is this girl, fit mate for the boldest-hearted warrior 
 king of all history. You curse " 
 
 But just then the rapid thinning of the mists warned Tony 
 to spring to his feet and seize and swiftly wield a paddle 
 whose vigorous strokes served to drive the vinta deep among 
 sheltering reeds, and to escape from his hateful visitor. 
 
 [282]
 
 CHAPTER LIX 
 THE REVELATIONS OF A FEVER 
 
 Tugan did not bother them. 
 
 Any resentment he may have felt over the return of Esa 
 mated with the Son of Fire he never in any way showed. He 
 did not dare. Esa had frightened him too badly for that, be 
 fore she led her twenty warriors on the march to intercept 
 the Mergans. 
 
 Indeed, peace reigned without as well as within the village 
 of Pugsan. Their ancient enemies, the Moros, were so con 
 tinually harried by the Mergans that their raids of the Mon- 
 obo clans for plunder and slaves had for some time ceased. 
 
 And ye gods of Mt. Apo, how happy was Esa! She had 
 come into her own, realized the last of her dreams. The clan 
 both revered and feared their Ingorandy and loved their 
 sweet-voiced Lukus and were correspondingly generous in 
 their tribute. And she was gentler with them even than had 
 been Usup, so long as they obeyed her. 
 
 Indeed, it was hard for her to so much as frown upon a mal 
 content, for she was just drunk with the joy of her mating 
 with the Son of Fire. 
 
 Nor was the Son of Fire one whit less content and happy 
 than was she. 
 
 He had dreamed it, but never had he ventured hope of real 
 izing it. 
 
 What had he done to deserve so much? 
 
 Here he was in full enjoyment of the broadest FREEDOM 
 the world holds free of the galling shackles of Law and Con 
 vention, free of the jealousies and hatreds they combine to 
 engender, free of the greed and strife they foster, emanci 
 pated from all life s cares! 
 
 Here, mated with the most adorable girl in the world, he 
 was downily nested in one of the sweetest nooks of Nature, 
 where all voices are low and melodious as the trills of Esa s 
 
 [283]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 kuteehapee and the whisperings of the leaves, and all charac 
 ter and life as clean as the Malbul s limpid waters here 
 among idyllic folk where no tongue lies and no hand steals ! 
 
 To Hades with Civilization, with its deceits and its hypoc 
 risies, its slavery to blood or money castes, its remorseless 
 plotters and looters, its spineless men and its denatured women ! 
 
 Here about him were no women who love baubles, dogs and 
 picture hats more than they love maternity! 
 
 Sin? To be sure he was sinning against all conventions, 
 from their point of view, from the home point of view. But 
 who was actually sinning most in day to day life, they in 
 their artificial environment or he here among these simple, 
 clean-living tree-top folk? 
 
 But care? Freedom? How poor Tony Trigg was deceiving 
 himself! 
 
 Never may one be long free of care, and never has freed slave 
 lived so long that he has not remained shackled to the tradi 
 tions of his bondage. 
 
 The chains of convention into which he had been born he 
 had cast off, but its traditions remained. And they were to 
 exact their scot for his infidelity to them. 
 
 One night, very few nights after their arrival in Pugsan, Esa 
 complained of a violent headache. Shortly thereafter a high 
 fever developed. 
 
 Under her instructions, the Son of Fire prepared and gave 
 her to drink of a potion she was sure would quickly relieve 
 her. 
 
 But for once the medicine woman was at fault. 
 
 All night long her pain-racked, burning body tossed of the 
 fever s torture, probably because it was one of the stubborn 
 types common to the coastal plain with which her preceptress, 
 Lancona, had never learned to contend. 
 
 And all night long the Son of Fire hovered helpless beside 
 her, more terribly tortured than was she. 
 
 Was he soon to lose her? 
 
 Well, by God, he wouldn t! 
 
 If Esa needs must go, so would he! 
 
 [284]
 
 THE REVELATIONS OF A FEVER 
 
 Toward dawn delirium ensued. 
 
 Esa s fevered brain began to wander and she to talk of the 
 wild incidents of the jungle s duskiest labyrinths, of chases 
 of game, questing for herbs with Lancona; of her fight for 
 escape from the amorous old Wa-Tu, of the death of the Da- 
 tu Linta and her rescue by the Son of Fire. 
 
 Ah, but what was that? Now she was speaking of the white 
 woman, of Ruth! 
 
 At first her words came in such a hot burst of passion that 
 they were unintelligible. AH he caught was : 
 
 "Go with Mergans country leave him crazy never!" 
 
 Then, after a wild laugh, the soft voice distinctly hissed : 
 
 "Such a fool, that white woman, to think her magic greater 
 than Esa s ! Ho, ho ! She didn t know that Esa holds all lives 
 in the hollow of her hand! And she thought she could take 
 Esa away from the Son of Fire? Poor fool ! She didn t know 
 that Esa would kill, kill, kill to prevent that! Of course, if she 
 were to go on a smoking boat, Esa must follow, for that she 
 had promised the Son of Fire. But if the white woman couldn t 
 go, then Esa was free free, free, FREE to go to him! 
 
 "And it was all so easy; just that one little flick of the bolo, 
 and then Esa was free!" 
 
 Tony Trigg could hear no more. Springing to his feet, he 
 rushed out of the hut and into the jungle, care hard upon his 
 heels, happiness fled. 
 
 It was late the second day thereafter when he returned, to 
 find Esa up and about but still very feeble, and nearly crazed 
 by his absence. 
 
 Nor, of course, could she understand him when he roughly 
 repulsed her caresses. 
 
 "But, Son of Fire, what is it?" she anxiously asked; "your 
 eye is as terrible as Dewata s when he is at his angriest." 
 
 "Tell me, girl, the truth but of course I know you cannot 
 lie. While your head was sick, you said things that make me 
 think it was you who killed the white woman. Did you?" 
 
 "Why, yes, Son of Fire; I never dreamed you would not 
 
 [285]
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 know it was Esa," and she smiled up at him with the inno 
 cent pride of a child who has done well. 
 For an instant he stood trembling of the realization that it 
 
 was he, he himself who was responsible for the death of the 
 
 pure woman he had once so dearly loved, and of rage at her 
 
 savage murderess and then he snatched his bolo and lifted 
 
 it to deal penalty. 
 But all in the same instant the big, soft, almond eyes were 
 
 looking anxiously up into his, and the sweet voice inquiring : 
 "Pobrecito! Poor little one, but you are sick, are you not? 
 
 If not, I don t understand. I killed to stay with the Son of 
 
 Fire." 
 
 The bolo clattered to the floor, as he murmured to himself: 
 "No! no! no! I could never strike her; I m to blame and / 
 
 must pay!" 
 And then as he gently but firmly pushed her from him, he 
 
 added aloud: 
 "That s just the trouble, Esa; you do not understand, and 
 
 you never can while I, my God, / must always understand, 
 
 may never forget." 
 For some time the strong man stood trembling, his face 
 
 deeply lined with agony. 
 Finally he murmured to himself, "That s it. I owe no less 
 
 to Ruth. / must pay!" And then, dropping his eyes to Esa s, 
 
 he hoarsely whispered: 
 "Esa, I leave tomorrow, never to return." 
 "And and Esa?" the soft voice anxiously queried. 
 "Esa will stay with her people." 
 "The Son of Fire is Esa s god; his will is hers." 
 The suffering face softened and he answered very gently: 
 "I m so very sorry, gordita, but it must be so," and then he 
 
 turned and left the hut. 
 
 [286]
 
 CHAPTER LX 
 LANCONA S MAGIC 
 
 They were alone in the hut. Their supper was just finished, 
 a frugal meal made up of vegetables boiled in sections of green 
 bamboo tube and boar meat roasted over embers. 
 
 It was their last evening together. 
 
 At dawn he was to begin his journey down the Malbul to 
 the sea. 
 
 Neither had spoken since the morning. 
 
 But never through the meal had Esa s eyes left his face. No 
 tear moistened them, but they were so full of the unspeakable 
 agony of one taking a last look at her best loved dead that 
 seldom did he dare let his glance meet hers. 
 
 So for some moments they remained seated, still silent, but 
 only for a few moments. 
 
 Presently a startled look swept across his face, quickly fol 
 lowed by an expression of agonized dread. 
 
 Slowly, with difficulty, like one suddenly stricken with the 
 palsy of great age, he rose to his feet, swaying like a tottering 
 forest monarch honeycombed by the brocas. 
 
 Up to her feet also struggled Esa, staggering, scarcely able 
 to stand. 
 
 Toward her he feebly stretched his arms and stammered : 
 
 "But what what is it? My my eyes they are dim my 
 strength is gone my tongue " 
 
 "Lan Lancona s magic! Esa put it in in the food. 
 Esa cou could not let the Son of Fire go go alone!" 
 
 And then, gathering the last of her failing strength, on him 
 she sprang, clasping her arms about his neck and pressing her 
 lips to his, as on that fateful night in the old stone fort on 
 Tantuan Hill. 
 
 Close he clasped and tenderly he fondled her. 
 [287] ; -
 
 THE LOVE OF LOOT AND WOMEN 
 
 They swayed and tottered. 
 
 But just before they toppled to the floor, and there lay still, 
 he whispered: 
 "Esa has has done well ve very well!" 
 
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