peppers, carot, and tobah shrub were pounded together in an
old dug-out canoe. Wood-ashes, earth, alcohol, and water were added,
and the mixture was allowed to ferment. Early the next morning nearly
all the inhabitants embarked upon the short journey to Parang-Parang,
their seaport barrio. Every available boat was filled with the merry
throng, and the river sang a soft accompaniment to their chatter;
pet monkeys, parrots, and mongoosen joined in the hubbub, and the
din echoed through the forest, to be taken up by nature's wild
children. Bal-Bal was forgotten, for the moment, by all except the
bereaved parents, who had remained behind with the aged, to mourn
their loss.

"I see the ocean! Oh, I saw it first!" cried Papita, nearly upsetting
the banco in her glee. "Piang, do stop being so solemn and look--over
there--through the trees!"

"I saw the ocean long ago, Papita," answered the boy with exaggerated
dignity.

With a sigh the girl turned away, despairing of drawing him into
sociability. Piang, the playfellow, had vanished, and Piang, the
charm boy, was so superior, so awe-inspiring. Out of the corner of
his eye Piang watched her. He longed to frolic and play, as of old,
but the weight of the tribe was on his young shoulders, and he must
put aside childish things. With folded arms he watched the revelers;
his heart beat violently, but, to the envy and admiration of all,
he retained his dignity and rigidity.

The travelers gave a shout as they rounded a bend and came upon the
sea. The curving coast line seemed to be ever smiling as the waves
wooed it with cajoling and caressing whispers.

The tide was on the turn; not a moment was to be lost. Men, women,
and children assembled about the dug-out, carrying wicker baskets
which they filled with the macasla mixture. Scattering quickly along
the extensive shoals, they ran into the water, waist deep, immersing
the baskets, jerking them about until the macasla was all washed out;
slowly they retreated to the shore. Impatiently they waited five,
ten minutes; then things began to happen. Crabs abandoned their holes
and scurried about aimlessly; children, wild with delight, pursued
and captured the bewildered creatures, tossing them into a brass pot
of water over the fire. Small fish came gasping to the top; finally
large ones began to show signs of distress. Screaming and laughing
at the top of their voices, the Moros pursued; the men harpooning
the largest fish, the wom