s fought and
the Moros were defeated. They then retreated southward, but great
numbers of Vicoles and Tinguianes rushed up from the southern part
of the island and blocked their way.

On the shore of the great Lake Bombon the final battle was fought. The
Moros were killed to a man, and with great rejoicing the tribes
returned north and south to their homes.

But in the meantime Bungtao had not been idle. After landing his men,
with his two hundred ships he set sail northward, never doubting that
his army would sweep all before it. A typhoon carried his fleet far
south into the China Sea, but he steered again for Luzon and three
weeks later was in sight of Corregidor Island.

He sailed down Manila Bay and drew up his fleet in front of the
villages on the Pasig River, the present site of Manila. On the shore
the people gathered in terror, for all the warriors had gone to fight
the invading army, and only old men and women and children remained
in the villages.

Hastily they called a council and finally decided to send a messenger
out to the Moro chief with all the gold and things of value they
possessed, thinking thus to satisfy the fierce Datto and save their
villages from harm.

Accordingly the women gave their rings and bracelets and the men
their bangles and chains. Everything of value was taken from the
houses. Even the temples of prayer were stripped and all the ornaments
taken. So great was the fear of the people that they even sent the
gold statue of the great god Captan that was the pride of the tribe,
whose members came miles to worship it.

As Bungtao was preparing to land and attack the town with his sailors,
the messenger in his canoe came alongside the ship and was at once
taken before the Datto. Trembling with fear, the old man, with signs,
begged for mercy for the people on the shore. He pointed to the
presents and offered them to Bungtao. Then, placing the golden image
of Captan at the feet of the Moro and bowing low, he again pleaded
for the women and children.

Bungtao laughed in scorn at the offer. On his island was gold enough to
satisfy his people. He needed slaves to work in the fields, for it was
beneath the dignity of such warriors as himself and his companions to
labor. So he kicked the messenger from him and, with a curse, picked
up the sacred golden image and threw it far over the water. Instantly
the sky grew dark and blackest night covered the land. The messenger
felt himself seized