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 by invisible hands and carried to the shore.

Then suddenly the heavens opened, and a shower of silver fire rained on the Moro boats.  In vain the Moros tried to escape.  The fire hemmed them in on every side.  Many leaped from the burning ships into the boiling water.  When the darkness cleared, boats and Moros had disappeared.

Joyfully the people on the shore ran to the temple of worship to pray to Captan.  What was their surprise to find the golden image of the god in its usual place, and around it the bracelets and rings offered to the Moros!

When the warriors, a few days later, returned from their great victory in the south, they could hardly believe the story of the wonderful escape of their people.  But at night, when they saw the heretofore dull waters dashing and breaking on the shore in crystals of silvery light, they knew that it was Captan who had saved their homes and families.

The villages are a thing of the past.  The modern city of Manila now stands on the banks of the Pasig.

The nights here are very beautiful.  The breeze sighs softly through the palm trees and the golden moon gleams on the waters of Manila Bay.

On the shore the waves break gently and little balls of silver light go rushing up the beach.  Wise men say that the water is full of phosphorus.  But they have never heard the story of the Silver Shower.

The Faithlessness of Sinogo

Somewhere off the northern coast of Mindanao a strong current begins to travel northward.  It runs to the island of Siquijor and then, turning slightly to the east, goes racing between the islands of Cebu and Negros.  At the narrow entrance between San Sebastian and Ayucatan it breaks up into hundreds of small whirlpools that make the water hiss and bubble for a distance of nearly three miles.

For steamers and large boats there is not the slightest danger, but to the native in his little sacayan with its bamboo outriggers these whirlpools are objects of dread and fear.  He will go miles out of his way to escape them.  If you inquire as to the reason, he will explain that the Liloan, or whirlpool, is a thing always to be avoided, and then he will tell you the story of Sinogo.