The Golden Skull Part 17

There was no particular pattern. The Ifugao farmers had simply used every possible inch of s.p.a.ce 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 compa.s.s 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 amba.s.sador 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 a.s.sured 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 a.s.sistant 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.