Goodwin Harold Leland
The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

CHAPTER IX
Ifugao Country

There was only one difficulty, but it was a major one. Rick didn't know whether or not the district road commissioner could be believed. Santos was Lazada's man.

The boys finished their cokes before Rick decided on a course of action. If Santos was lying, they would find out soon enough. So, for the present, they would assume that he was telling the truth, and that he could be trusted.

"Is the province peaceful up this way?" Rick asked.

"Oh, yes." Santos replied. "It is usually very peaceful. Sometimes on the road south there is a holdup, but the Igorots in Bontoc and the Ifugaos at Banaue cause no trouble."

"Glad to hear it," Scotty said. "When we start digging, some of the Ifugaos may get upset. I'm glad to hear that they're not often riled up."

"What are your plans?" Santos asked.

Rick shrugged. "It is hard to know where to begin. Before we plan our campaign to locate the place where we dig, we must survey the terraces. Is there any sort of field where I could land at Banaue?"

"No," Santos replied with great positiveness. "Once you see the terraces you will see for yourself that there is no place."

Rick stood up and Scotty followed suit. "I think perhaps we had better fly over to Banaue and see the terraces. Then we will have a better understanding of our problems. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. De los Santos."

"It is nothing. But tell me. Isn't there another in your party? Another American?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Oh, the Assistant Secretary of the Interior phoned personally. He described all of you, and said to do everything possible to make your visit interesting and successful."

"That was very good of him," Rick said. "We will be back again, perhaps tomorrow. Will you be here?"

"I believe so. If I am not, it will be because I am inspecting a road section. Never am I gone long."

Santos lingered to give instructions in the native language to one of his men, and Rick took advantage of the few seconds to whisper to Scotty:

"I'll stall him. Get back to the plane. Have Angel make a deal with those Igorot boys to keep an eye on the road. I want another spy in Bontoc besides someone we know is Lazada's man. You know what's needed."

Scotty did. He hurried off to do what was necessary. Rick waited for Santos, then asked the commissioner to point out the road to Banaue. "I plan to follow the road in my plane. Do you think that is all right?"

Santos did. "You may lose the road in the clouds as you cross the top of the mountain range that divides the Igorot tribe from the Ifugaos, but you should then be able to see Banaue. Will you come back here after you have seen the terraces?"

"Not today. We probably will be back tomorrow in a jeep. The plane is handy, but we can't land at Banaue, you say."

"You will see. And I will see you tomorrow. Then you can tell me how the terraces look from the air."

"Better still," Rick promised. "Next time I have the plane here, I'll take you to see for yourself."

Scotty winked as Santos and Rick approached the plane, and Rick knew that Scotty and Angel had been able to make a deal with Pilipil, the Igorot boy, and his friend. The party shook hands with Santos, then climbed into the plane. The crowd of natives moved away from the road as Rick started the engine, then turned the plane and taxied down the road to the take-off point he had selected. He was a little nervous, for fear a child might dart into the road while he was picking up flying speed, but the crowd was well-disciplined and held steady as the Sky Wagon roared past and climbed.

"We now have Pilipil and his pal working for us," Scotty said when they were air-borne.

"They're smart boys," Angel added. "They'll be able to report on every car and every person passing through Bontoc from now until we get back."

Rick nodded. "Good. But I'm still worried. We've done everything we could think of, but there's no pay-off. We still haven't found Tony. We were sure whoever kidnaped him would head for the Ifugao country, but there were no sedans on the road today. How do we know Tony isn't hidden somewhere near Baguio? How do we know he's still alive?"

Scotty put a hand on his shoulder. "Why wouldn't he be alive? Who would gain anything by his death? We have to remember that the gimmick in this whole business is a golden skull. Nast wants it, Nangolat wants it, Lazada wants it, and we want it. No one has it."

Rick gained altitude steadily, keeping an eye on the twisting road below. "All right. I'll go along with your reasoning. Whoever wants the golden skull has to go to Banaue to find it. It can't be found – unless by a lucky accident – without the earth scanner. And who has the scanner?"

"Nangolat."

"Can he use it?"

"No."

Rick shrugged. "Tony can use the scanner, though. We suspect that Nast has Tony. The question is what is the relationship between Nangolat and Nast?"

Below the Sky Wagon the high green mountains marched in a series of ridges from horizon to horizon. This was the divide between Igorot and Ifugao country. Rick let the conversation lag as he searched below and ahead for a landmark. There was a little cloud cover around him, as Santos had predicted.

Then the cloud was past and the three looked down into the great valley of Banaue.

Rick and Scotty gasped. It was incredible! As far as they could see, the mountains on either side of the valley were sculptured into irregular green steps, or terraces. The smallest terrace was perhaps only a few feet square, while the larger ones were the size of a football field. They rose in an irregular triangle right to the base of the clouds. There was no particular pattern. The Ifugao farmers had simply used every possible inch of space to make terraces for the growing of rice. In some places the step from one terrace to the next was only a foot or two. In other places the step up to the terrace above was forty feet.

The retaining walls of the terraces were native stone, irregular pieces laid together by expert Ifugao masons without benefit of mortar or concrete. The same method had been used to make the great wall of China.

Rick found his voice. "I've seen pictures, but they didn't tell even part of the story. This is fantastic!"

"It's the most wonderful job of engineering I've ever seen," Scotty agreed. "And when you think that the engineers are primitive people, with only hand tools, that makes it even more wonderful."

Angel Manotok had seen the terraces before, he said, but added, "I'm glad to see them from the air. You can understand now why Santos said there was no place to land."

Rick certainly could understand. The only level places in the entire valley were the flat surfaces of the terraces, and no terrace was large enough to land on. In fact, most terraces were too small even for a carabao, the native water buffalo, to drag a plow across them. The Ifugao rice planters had to farm their terraces by hand.

There was no use looking for a landing place in the immediate vicinity of Banaue.

"We'd better take a swing down the valley, just to get a good look, then head back for Baguio," Rick said.

"Good idea," Scotty agreed. "We need to lay some plans and then get busy. Can you fly fairly low?"

"Yes. There's room enough in the valley to make turns, so we won't get trapped. Let's go down and look."

The town of Banaue was easy to find. A double row of stores was situated on a single unpaved street atop a slight plateau in the valley bottom. The Sky Wagon sped over it, bringing the storekeepers and their few customers running out to look.

"The Ifugaos live in villages around the valley," Angel said. He pointed to one or two of them, clinging to the mountainside between terraces. The huts were of straw bundles, discolored by smoke and dust. "The stores have kerosene, thread, matches, tobacco, salt, oil, perhaps a little cloth. The Ifugaos do not need much – or, if they need it, they do not know that they do."

Rick thought that one over as he climbed out of the valley and set a compass course south to Baguio. The course would intersect the Bontoc Road, which he would then follow into town.

"What's our next step?" he asked.

"We've got to find Tony, of course. I have a hunch that we weren't thorough enough in looking over the Bontoc Road. Nangolat had to be on it. Where else could he go? Or where else would he go?"

"That lumber could have been camouflage," Angel offered.

Rick's first reaction was to ask what lumber, then he remembered that an Army truck like theirs, but loaded with lumber, had been on the Bontoc Road.

"Of course! Who would suspect a load of lumber, especially since this is lumber country?"

Scotty nodded. "It's possible. Tomorrow we'll go back to Bontoc, and if Nangolat was driving that lumber truck, Pilipil and company will know it. Tonight we'll cover Baguio again to make sure our enemies aren't still around. Perhaps we can find Chahda."

"If we haven't found Dr. Briotti by tomorrow night," Angel said, "we should go to the police."

"There's someone else we'll visit first," Rick said grimly. "And that's Mr. Irineo Lazada!"

CHAPTER X
Ambush

The hotel had received no word of Tony Briotti. Rick and Scotty hadn't really expected any word. They were certain that he had been kidnaped by Nast. Even the reason for the kidnaping was no longer important. What was important was to rescue Tony.

Angel Manotok left before the boys were ready for dinner. He hoped to pick up some information at various places he knew around town. Perhaps gossip which might be useful. Perhaps someone had seen something unusual which could have a bearing on the young archaeologist's disappearance. Angel promised to report back later. He would spend the night in Tony's room.

Rick and Scotty decided to have dinner, and then talk with some of the local Americans about the best place to buy a jeep. If possible, they wanted to pick one up after dinner, get it ready to travel, and have it standing by the next morning early.

They did not talk much at dinner. They were more worried about Tony than either of them would admit, and Rick was feeling a little ill at ease because they hadn't notified the police. He had talked it over with Angel, but the Filipino guide had said, "We'll have to notify them sooner or later, but it will do no good."

"Perhaps we should notify the American ambassador at Manila," Rick said aloud.

"We should have notified him long before this," Scotty agreed. "But we always try to do everything ourselves. I guess we'll never learn."

Angel Manotok appeared in the dining room, eyes searching for the boys. Rick saw him and waved. Angel came over and slid into a seat. Apparently he had seen a doctor, because the bandage around his head was a new one.

"Friend of yours coming this way," he said. "Probably will have dinner here. Lazada."

Scotty's lips tightened. "I'll be glad to see him," he assured Angel. "I want to ask him about his pal Nast."

Rick's eyes opened wide. "No need," he said. "Look at the door."

There, just entering were Lazada and Nast, arm in arm!

The boys waited until they were seated, then walked over to join them.

"Good evening," Rick said. "I hope you gentlemen are well."

Lazada and Nast smiled. The Assistant Secretary nodded. "Both quite well, thank you. And how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Rick said. "But my friend is giving me a little trouble." He pulled a chair out from Lazada's table and sat down. Scotty followed suit. Rick was close to Lazada, while Scotty's chair was nearer to Nast.

"Your friend is giving you trouble?" Lazada asked. "Which friend?"

"This one," Rick said, motioning to Scotty. "He wants to kill Mr. Nast. I don't think we should kill Mr. Nast, do you?"

Lazada smiled. "Ask him."

Rick turned to Nast. "Do you have an opinion, Mr. Nast?"

Nast was a little pale, but his voice was steady enough. "I certainly do. I agree with you, Mr. Brant."

Rick grinned mirthlessly. "You do? I'm glad. Instead of killing you, I suggested to Scotty that we cripple you. Perhaps a few compound fractures of the arms and legs."

Rick could see that neither Lazada nor Nast were as composed as they seemed. The calm, unearthly discussion was too bizarre. Threats were something they understood, but not threats like this.

Scotty spoke for the first time. He addressed Nast. "Because you're a fellow American I thought the decent thing to do would be just to kill you outright."

Nast shuddered visibly. "You're both joking, of course. But it isn't a very funny joke, I assure you."

Rick smiled. "No, it isn't very funny. But neither is Dr. Briotti's disappearance. You'd better tell us where he is."

"What makes you think Mr. Nast knows?" Lazada asked.

Rick considered. They had no proof. No one had seen Nast in the sedan that had taken Tony from the airport. The boys saw movement at the entrance to the dining room and realized that two Filipinos were watching them like hawks, and that the hands in their pockets certainly held pistols.

Rick shifted tactics. "Do you have much faith in your bodyguards?"

Lazada raised his eyebrows. "Faith? Of course. They are loyal to me. If anyone tries to get close to me without my permission, they step in and remove that person. Or, if anyone should try violence…"

Rick smiled. "How good do you think they would be against a sniper with a rifle five hundred yards away?"

"Obviously, they would be ineffective."

"Just the point I wanted to make," Rick agreed. "You realize, of course, that there is no protection against assassination, except to take refuge in a fortress of some kind and stay there. That's impossible for a public figure like yourself."

"True. Your point, then, is what?"

"That Dr. Briotti has friends with rifles. It would distress us to find that he had been harmed."

"It would distress me," Lazada assured them. "I was very much impressed by Dr. Briotti's knowledge and enthusiasm. I assume that you think I have some knowledge about his disappearance. I do not."

"Me either," Nast added hastily.

Lazada's round face glistened with perspiration. "I will control my anger, Mr. Brant. I take your age into account. Allow me to remind you, however, that I am an official of the Philippine Government and that you are an alien. You are here on sufferance, and you have only such rights as you can persuade us to give you. Oh, I know there are agreements. But let us be realistic. Do not force me to lose my temper and do something for which I would be sorry."

"All right." Rick rose. "I'm not as enthusiastic about this expedition as I used to be, but we're going through with it, anyway, starting tomorrow. The sooner we finish, the better for everybody." He looked at Nast. "Except you. I can only promise you that your pal Lazada will never be able to give you the golden skull to smuggle into China."

The boys walked back to their own table and left Nast and Lazada staring after them. That would give them something to chew over, Rick thought.

"I'm not sure that we were smart," Scotty said when they were seated once more. "I'm sure Nast had something to do with Tony's disappearance, but I can't tell you why I'm sure. Was it wise to throw it up to them?"

Rick shrugged. "Maybe not. But it's done now."

The boys slept with locked windows and doors, but they slept soundly. Down the hall, Angel also regained strength and optimism while he slept, so that the three awoke the next morning with a determination to make some real progress. They had followed their plans and obtained a jeep the night before. But they would need blankets and warmer clothing, unless their supplies could be recovered.

Over breakfast, Scotty estimated their chances. "Suppose we find out that the truck is somewhere in the Ifugao country. Would that guarantee our getting it back? No, it would not. So, we'd better write off the stuff in the truck as lost."

Fortunately, stores open early in Baguio, and the boys were able to buy the things they needed. Scotty also bought an extra five-gallon gasoline can for the jeep. Then Angel and Scotty loaded their few belongings into the vehicle, shook Rick's hand, and headed for Bontoc.

They had agreed that it might be convenient to have the Sky Wagon at Bontoc, too, so Rick would fly up later, planning to arrive at about the same time. Now, he sat down in the hotel lobby and penned a note to the American ambassador, describing the events of yesterday and telling of their future plans. He gave the note to the desk clerk, with instructions that it was not to be sent for three days.

Rick figured that at the end of that time he would either reclaim the note, or that all of them would be in need of help, and the American ambassador would get the letter and use it as a reason for sending a strong note to the Philippine Government, or maybe call out the Marines, the Navy, and the Air Force. Rick was a little vague on just what would happen.

The note written, he tried to read for a while. Scotty and Angel were not well started, and it would be pointless for him to go on to Bontoc alone. He wondered where Chahda was, and what he was doing. The Hindu boy had his own way of operating, and it was one Rick and Scotty could not hope to copy. Chahda had the gift of mimicry. He could fade into a new background as though he belonged to it.

Rick hoped that Chahda, somehow, was keeping a protective eye on Tony.

He couldn't read. He tried napping, but that was no good, either. At last, unable to remain idle a moment longer, he took a taxi to the airport, topped off the Sky Wagon's tanks with gas, checked the plane thoroughly, got a weather report and took off.

He climbed to fifteen thousand feet and scanned the terrain for landmarks. He spotted Mount Panay to the west, verifying its name on the map. Then he picked up the Bontoc Road and searched for the highest point, where it emerged from the valleys and swung across a peak over seven thousand feet above sea level.

If he had estimated Scotty's travel time correctly, the jeep should just now be emerging into the brilliant sunlight of the peaks. He wished for binoculars, but they had failed to bring any, one of those oversights that happen on any expedition.

There was a little traffic on the road. A car of some kind was at the peak, probably stopped to allow the occupants to see the magnificent view. Then he saw that the car was being driven off the road into a grove of trees just beyond the peak. That was odd.

He identified the jeep. In a moment or two it would be at the peak. He would go down and wave. Then he would go back to the airport, have lunch, and fly on to Bontoc. That way, he would get there only slightly ahead of Scotty and Angel.

He lost altitude. Below, men were getting out of the car which had driven into the scant cover of a scrub-pine grove. Rick watched as they walked to the peak. Sunlight reflected from metal. Probably lunch boxes, he thought. The men were going to have their picnic lunch while looking over the wonderful mountains of northern Luzon. Good idea. Probably that was why they had parked the car off the road.

Then he saw that they were not stopping at the peak, but were taking positions along the road a short distance beyond it. Again, sunlight glinted from metal as one of them sat down in a copse just off the road.

Sweat suddenly poured on Rick's forehead. He wasn't watching simple picnickers! He was watching an ambush being set up – and it could only be for one vehicle, because there was only one in sight along the miles of twisting highway.

Scotty and Angel!

Rick spun the Sky Wagon up on a wing and let it slide. He held the slide for long moments while the altimeter ticked off the lost altitude. Not until it registered eight thousand feet did he level off, only a thousand feet above the mountaintops. For a moment he couldn't see Scotty and Angel, then he saw them climbing toward the peak at a good speed. In about twenty seconds they would reach it.

He gauged the amount of clearance he had. It wasn't much. Then he put the stick forward and dove for the road. He leveled off so low that his prop wash kicked up dust. The jeep seemed to rush at him and he had a glimpse of Scotty's surprised face, then he was roaring up in a climb that flattened him against the seat. He leveled off and looked for the jeep. It was still moving ahead.

Rick groaned. Scotty thought he was just playing! He should have written a note and dropped it, but now there was no time. The jeep would be in the ambush before he could let his friends know why he had buzzed them.

He was helpless. There wasn't anything in the Sky Wagon that he could throw at the enemy. But he could at least try to make them keep their heads down. He roared in for the attack, aiming at the places where the attackers waited.

The ambushers had the advantage. All they had to do was sit still. Rick could not hurt them without cracking up the plane and actually landing on them. Still, it was terrifying to have the plane roar past scarcely two feet above one's head, and Rick knew the attackers would be worried about the possibility of an accident.

One man had weak nerves. On Rick's second pass he stood up and ran, heading for the comforting shelter of the trees. Scotty saw him. The jeep braked to a halt.

Instantly the ambushers opened fire. Scotty and Angel jumped from the exposed jeep and took to the ditch. Rick dove at the riflemen again and saw them shoot at him.

He gained a little altitude and circled, estimating the situation. There were four attackers, counting the one who had run for the car. That left three effective ones. Scotty and Angel were unarmed, a grave mistake. They should have purchased weapons. However, since he had been able to warn them, the attack had failed. They were in good cover, and as long as he was overhead, ready to dive on the attackers if they should try for a better position, the two were all right.

Rick thought he saw a way out. At least there was no harm in trying. He took the pad of paper he kept in the door pocket and printed a message to the attackers.

YOU HAVE LOST. NO MATTER WHICH WAY YOU GO, I CAN FOLLOW. I CAN HAVE THE POLICE TRAP YOU AT BONTOC OR BAGUIO. I CAN CARRY POLICE TO BONTOC FASTER THAN YOU CAN DRIVE THERE. BUT IF YOU LEAVE YOUR RIFLES IN THE ROAD, GO TO YOUR CAR, AND HEAD FOR BAGUIO, I WILL DO NOTHING.

 

He searched for a weight and found his emergency fishing kit, a war surplus item which he carried in case he might someday find himself at a good fishing spot without tackle. From the kit he extracted a heavy sinker. A piece of fishing line completed the rig. He lashed the sinker to the folded paper. Now to toss it out so it would land among the attackers. He swung low over the road, gauging his distance. When he saw the peak rushing at him he released the weighted paper, climbed swiftly, and saw one of the attackers run to get it.

Apparently it made sense to the three men. They talked among themselves for a moment, then carried their rifles to the middle of the road and went to the car. Scotty and Angel realized that something was going on, but prudently remained under cover. Not until the ambushers' car roared past on the way to Baguio did they emerge and wave at Rick. He waggled his wings, then turned and made a beeline for the city. He wanted guns and ammunition, and there was no time like the present to buy them!