The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1901-07-30

lanceS were hurled at his retreating
figure, though none of them found
their mark.
1t might seem peculiar that the rene
gade should make for the centre of the
town; but that was his shortest route
to the shore of the bay. where he could
obtain n boat and soon place himself
in the hands of a rival Datto on the
opposite shore few miles distant
This was no doubt his intention.
AS Datto Baqui stepped from out the
crowd about him. and walked toward
the approaching Moro. he put up his
hand as If to stop him. at the same
time inquiring the cause Of the distrr-
bance. In answer however. the half
crazed man swung his kris at fun
arms length around his head. and.
without doubt, had the weapon landed
where the Moro intended. il would
have severed the old chiefs head from
his body. But Uttamama Baqui was
Moro himself, and won his way to
power in Moro-land as much by the
strength of his good right arm as by
his powers of diplomacy. Although
sixty years of age, he was still agile
and the scars Of combat. which COW
cred him from head to foot. were evil
dence Of his years of experience. He
had learned that to evade a blow was
far better policy than to met it. He
saw the deadly CLEAN of his assail-
ants eye and the evil intent 1t bore
before the kris was fairly on its wayl
BY clever duck of his head he es-
" n ,saI Co..
certain death. The weapon fell but
its razor-edge missed the Datto. CIT
well into the neck of the servant fol-
lowing closely behind him. and added
third to the list Of its victims. An
other stroke of the cruel kris ended
the life of one of the Dattos hench-
men who stood in the path Of the MUIR
derous Moro's escape. SO suddenly
was the whole affair concluded that
scarcely another weapon was drawn
before the list of deaths to be credited
to the kris with the plain handle had
been swelled to four.
In cutting his way through the
crowd, most Of whom had made wild
break-away from the affair. no fewer
than five of his fellow townsmen were
wounded by the renegade Incredible
as 1t may seem, the fleeing Moro
gained the farther edge Of the crowd
and obtained a good start, unscathed.
before the Datto's warriors had gath
cred their scattered wits and given
chase. a shot was fred at the re-
treating figure; but the Moros are no
marksmen, and he stood in no danger
from their guns.
1t seemed for the moment as though
the man might make good his escape.
Indeed, such might have been the
outcome had not the desire to take
human life been so strong within him
AS he was running down the road he
met an aged and infirm Moro who
happened to be passing and although
the old man was too weak to prove q
mt antagonist for q mere child, the
murderer ceased his fight long enough
to bury the kris with the plain han
die from the crown to chin. straight
through lie head Of the old patriarch
Of the village
he blow that robbed the old man of
his life, however, proved the indirect
means of the assassin's death. Be
fore the mGddened Moro had time
again to raise the dripping blade the
campilans and krises of the avengers
had struck deep into his head. neck.
side and back, and the spark of life
left his mangled body before he could
emit single groan.
When l arrived Mt the depot n mo-
ment later the kris with the wooden
handle was lying unnoticed in the long
grass few YARDS from the corpse of
its former owner. l picked it I'D and
subsequently obtained the permission
of Datto BaQui 10 keep it as a souve-
mir Of the lurid event.
All this went on in the very midst of
the town, and almost within stones
throw of the American troops as they
wore Longing about their quarters.
When tic Moros scattered I'm every d.
rcction, crying "El Moro. FL Moror' at
the top OF their lungs. Captain Gillen-
water the commander drew his com-
pany quickly and quietly into line. not
aware OF the nature OF the excitement.
but resolved TO be prepared to meet
whatever developments might ensue.
The whole affair was over, however.
In far less time than It has taken to
tell it, and the Americans breathed a
sigh Of relief when they learned that
the Moro who ran amok" would run
no more.
That is the story OF the kris with the
wooden handle which now forms the
gen Of my friend Feldman's collec-