CHAPTER XIV
The High Fire
The Celebes Sea was dark, with a low swell but no chop. There was justenough wind to fill the vinta's sail, which suited Rick. At this stagein the proceedings he was more concerned about silence and safety thanspeed. Zircon and Scotty had moved another mile seaward as soon as thevinta was launched. That was to avoid anyone on the island hearing theengines in case a sudden onshore wind came up.
Up ahead, Chahda was a dark blur against the sail, trimming it formaximum efficiency. Presently the Hindu boy came back to the tiller andsat down near Rick.
Shan's volcanic cone blotted out the stars ahead. There were no lightsof any kind on the mountain itself, and the number of lights in thevillage was gradually diminishing.
The water splashed a little under the rudder, and the cordage holdingthe mast and sail creaked as a vagrant breeze caught the vinta.Otherwise, there was no sound. Once a fish jumped nearby, and Rick washalfway to his feet, hand going to the pistol at his belt, before herealized what it was. He smiled at his own tenseness.
Rick wiped moist palms on the thighs of his tight pants and strained tosee the first sign of the beach on which he and Chahda would land.Chahda, according to plan, moved to the bow of the Moro craft in orderto keep a lookout.
The timing was all right, Rick thought. There were still lights in thevillage, but not many. Early, when too many pirates were out of doors,would not be a good time. Later, when perhaps only guards were movingaround, would be even worse. They had tried to time their reconnaissancefor an in-between period, and it looked as though the selection of thehour was good. Most villagers were in bed, but enough kerosene lamps andcandles burned to show that the two of them probably would not attractspecial attention by being out so late.
Chahda came back and whispered, "We drop sail now."
"Okay." Rick was careful to keep his voice at a whisper. He knew soundcarried across the water.
The boys let the sail down and lashed it just enough to keep a suddenbreeze from tangling the lines, then took paddles and steered for thesmall crescent of beach that made a light streak between the sea and theblack rock of the volcano. The lights of the village were gradually lostas the jutting rock between the beach and the western land slope blockedtheir view.
Rick and Chahda timed their paddle strokes to catch a low wave as itsped to shore, and in a moment the vinta's bow grated on sand. Chahdajumped to shore, carrying the craft's anchor--a block of stone with ahole in it for the rope--and hauled the vinta's bow up on dry coralsand. Rick stepped to the sand and paused, ears tuned for any unusualnoise. He heard nothing except the sharp barking of a dog in thevillage.
"If this is like most Asiatic villages, there'll be enough mutts to makeit a dog catcher's paradise," he whispered in Chahda's ear. "They'llgive us away sure!"
Chahda shook his head. "Leave to me. Have plenty sad experience withdogs. I come ready for them."
Rick wondered how the Hindu boy was prepared, but he realized this wasno time for questions. He put his lips close to the hidden radio unitunder Chahda's turban and called softly, "Rick to home base."
"Go ahead, Rick," Zircon's voice said faintly through the heavy folds ofturban.
"We're on the beach, about to leave the vinta."
"Good luck. We're standing by for a fast run if needed. Be careful."
"We will," Rick promised. "Off for now." He drew the automatic from hissash, pulled back the slide, and let it carry a round into the chamber.Then he lowered the hammer to half cock and made sure the safety was on.He tucked the pistol into his sash, and loosened the kris in itssheath.
Chahda drew his barong and made a few practice swings. The blade gleamedin the starlight.
Rick led the way, westward along the beach to where the black lava rocklay in tumbled masses. If they could climb across the tongue of lava,all would be well. If not, they would have to return to the beach andswim around it.
The lava was in big chunks, and there were ample hand and footholds. Itwas an easy climb to the top of the flow, only about twenty feet abovesea level, and an easy climb down again. The only hard part was movingacross the top of the flow, through the mass of lava boulders.
Presently the two boys stood on soil, still hidden among lavaoutcroppings. The village was to their left. In front of them, to thewest, was a cornfield. Rick wasn't surprised to see the corn. He knewthat from the central Philippines south to Sulu there was more corneaten than rice.
"Keep an eye open for a guard," he whispered to Chahda. "We'll wait afew minutes to see if one shows up. Then, if it seems clear, we'll movealong the edge of the cornfield toward the village."
"Good plan," Chahda agreed.
Rick strained to catch sound or motion. When his luminous watch dialtold him five minutes had elapsed, he leaned toward Chahda. "No sign ofa guard. Let's go."
Apparently the pirates were sure attack could come only from the west,as Zircon had thought.
Undoubtedly they had lookouts on the western shore.
Rick led the way, keeping close to the abrupt rise of the volcanic cone.He saw there were plenty of gaps and holes in the lava into which theycould duck, as well as the cornfield. Knowing they could be out of sightin a matter of seconds gave him confidence, and he moved rapidly ahead.
A slight breeze brought him the scent--or rather stench--of the village.He wrinkled his nose and suppressed a sneeze. Wow! If the piratespossessed any virtues, cleanliness was not one of them.
The cornfield ran right up to the edge of the village, which was nestledunder a point where the volcano dropped steeply for perhaps a hundredfeet. It was a good defensive position, Rick saw. The black lava cliffprobably could be climbed, and would offer a wonderful location forriflemen. Even heavy weapons would have a hard time dislodging them.
Ahead was a kind of street, a wide gap between rows of houses. Some ofthe houses showed the yellow flickering light of candles or kerosenelamps, but most were dark. The houses were raised up on piles, in thefashion common throughout the Philippines, and most of them offeredlittle obstruction to the view.
Rick shrank back as a man walked down the street, turned, and went up aladder into one of the houses. In the dim light Rick could see that hehad tight pants, a flat turban, and a rifle in his hand. The boyshuddered. There probably were enough deadly weapons in the village tooutfit a regimental combat team. One slip and those weapons would beturned on them.
Chahda put his lips close to Rick's ear. "What we do now?"
"Look for a house with guards, I guess."
It seemed the only possibility. If Tony and Shannon were in the village,they would almost certainly be guarded. Guards probably would be theonly clue to their presence.
For long moments Rick debated on how best to approach the problem. Therewasn't any easy way. He tapped Chahda on the shoulder. "Let's go."
The two boys stepped out from their concealment against the volcanicwall and walked boldly into the village.
Rick had his fingers crossed for luck, but he was ready to uncross themin a hurry and go for the pistol in his sash. Their disguises had toprotect them from casual viewers. He had confidence that the deepshadows of the village would conceal the fact that they were strangers,unless they came face to face with someone.
The street paralleled the face of the volcano, with houses on bothsides. For the first few steps they saw no one, then far down the streeta Moro crossed, and it took all of Rick's courage to keep walkingcasually ahead.
Nearby a dog barked, and the noise sent a stream of sweat dripping downRick's back. The barking continued, drew nearer. Rick half drew hiskris, but Chahda whispered hoarsely, "Wait!"
A mongrel of indiscriminate breed sidled up to them, hackles raised,teeth gleaming faintly in a snarl. Chahda bent low and murmured. The dogleaped frantically, and Rick's heart caught in his throat. Then theHindu boy miraculously was petting the vicious mutt.
"What did you do?" Rick demanded in a whisper.
"You remember canned hom
bargers? I open can and put some in my pocket.Feed one to dog. He our friend now. Come on."
Rick had to grin. The mysterious Hindu! Behind the mystery was apractical solution to problems. Just stick a couple of "hombargers" inthe pocket.
The boy led the way again, Chahda hurrying to catch up. Beside them, theonce-fierce dog gamboled like a puppy, hoping for another handout.
In a few moments Rick saw that the two streets of the town formed a hugeT, with the stem starting under the mountain and running toward thewest. He had an idea that Tony and Shannon would be near the center ofthe village, in the most protected position--simply because it would beeasier to guard them that way. That meant they would be close to theintersection where he and Chahda now stood.
A poke in the ribs from Chahda took his mind off the problem in a hurry,and put it on a new and immediate one. A man was walking directlytoward them, coming from the direction of the western shore. Rickcouldn't see him clearly; it was too dark in the village. But he couldsee enough to know that the pirate carried a rifle and had a barongtucked into his belt.
Rick's hand started for the pistol, then paused. He couldn't shoot now.It would bring the whole village down on them. For a moment he nearlypanicked, then with a nod to Chahda he walked directly toward the man.The bold approach was the best one, he figured. To run was to bring ashot. He had a vague idea of getting within range, then jumping theMoro. Certainly they couldn't stop and talk with him; neither of themknew the language.
The pirate didn't seem uncertain, or alarmed. He walked toward the twoboys casually, obviously not yet recognizing them as strangers. He wouldsoon, Rick knew. It was important to get the jump on the Moro first, andprevent him yelling, if possible.
Then, as Rick prepared for a wild spring and a roundhouse punch, Chahdawhispered, "Be ready," and lifted his hand in salute. The Moro liftedhis hand, too, and said something in the native tongue. It might havebeen a greeting; neither boy ever knew for sure.
Chahda walked right up to him, muttering something that was probablyHindu double talk. The Indian boy moved so that the Moro swung around,trying to understand what Chahda was saying.
For an instant the pirate's back was to Rick. He moved like a chargingpanther. The pistol came out of his sash and descended barrel first, allhis desperate strength behind it. He felt it slam down on the pirate'sturban and connect solidly with the head underneath.
Chahda caught the man as he fell, and in an instant the two boys hadhauled him under the nearest house.
Rick found the man's pulse and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. Itwas thready and slow, but it was there. The pirate would wake up, butnot for some time. The dog sniffed inquiringly at the fallen Moro, butmade no noise. Rick took Chahda by the arm and pulled him out into thestreet again, pausing anxiously to see if the brief and violent meetinghad attracted attention. Apparently it hadn't. There were no signs oflife in nearby houses, and no one looked out of those with lightsfarther along the street.
Rick decided they had better conduct their search with all possiblespeed. The boys moved rapidly along the street at the top of the T,toward the waterfront on the south. The dog trotted alongside, theirfirm friend now. Rick knew the boat dock must be at the end of thestreet. That would certainly mean guards, and it wouldn't be wise to gotoo close.
He had a sudden thought that the scientists might be prisoners on one ofthe vintas, then rejected it. No vinta they had seen was big enough toserve as a prison, and there had been no sign of the boat the missingmen had rented. That could also mean the scientists weren't even on theisland. But if not, where could they be?
Chahda's hand on his arm stopped Rick. He saw that they had nearlycompleted their inspection of this particular street. The masts ofvintas and the sheen of water among the pirate craft were visibledirectly ahead.
He put his lips close to Chahda's ear and whispered, "Let's cut west,through the houses."
Rick's idea was to go through the quadrant of town they were nowtraversing, until he saw the waterfront on the west. Then they couldcross the street that he pictured as the stem of the "T" and turn backtoward the mountain, going through the town on the other side. That way,if any trouble developed, they would be only a few yards from thecornfield, and could certainly lose themselves until Zircon and Scottycould come roaring in.
They passed under a lighted house, and through the split bamboo floorlaths they could see two men drinking _basi_, or some other nativebeverage, from sections of bamboo. Now and then the two men talked incasual, drowsy tones.
Nowhere was there a sign of guards until Rick and Chahda passedcompletely through the village and emerged under the great branches of amango tree. Ahead of them was a field of grain, probably millet, andbeyond it was the western shore of the island. As they watched, two menwalked along the shore toward each other, met, chatted for a moment,then turned and walked away from each other again.
"Guards," Rick said softly. "Walking their patrols along the beach."
It was as he suspected. The two guards, patrolling the beach, could seeeverything that offered danger by walking from where they had met topoints roughly halfway around the island.
"Maybe they see us in the vinta," Chahda whispered. "But maybe they nothink much about it."
Rick thought he might be right, but the greater probability was thatthey hadn't been seen at all, especially if they had approached theshore while the guards were walking toward each other near the westernend of the island.
"We'll be a little more cautious on the way back," Rick returned softly.
"Is so," Chahda agreed. "What we do now?"
Rick motioned toward the street that led from the volcano to the westernshore. "Cross that and look at the houses on the other side. Come on."
With a quick look around to be sure no one was watching, or showing anyundue interest in them, he moved out from the shadow of the mango treeand headed past the irregularly placed houses to where the wide strip ofyellow dust marked the street.
They reached the street's edge without incident, and paused for anotherquick look before crossing. As Rick glanced up the street a flicker ofyellow high in the air caught his eye. He lifted his head and stareddirectly at it. A fire! It was high up on the face of the cliff behindthe village, where they couldn't have seen it from the street under thecliff.
He wondered. Was it a beacon for pirates who might be out in the vintas?Apparently it was on a shelf of some sort more than a hundred feet abovethe village.
Then, as he watched, a tall, thin figure passed in front of the fire andwas silhouetted briefly against the flames.
He grabbed for Chahda. That was no Moro, not with those long legs andarms! And no Moro on this island would wear thick glasses, from whichthe firelight had glinted momentarily.
That was Howard Shannon!