CHAPTER III
Bagobo Country
By ten o'clock on the following morning Rick and his friends werejouncing along a twisting, bumpy road into the foothills of Mindanao.They had risen with the dawn and taken Philippines Airlines, PAL forshort, to Davao. On arrival they had checked in at the Apo View Hoteland had lost no time in finding local constabulary headquarters.
Major Paulo Lacson, in charge of the detachment, had instantly ordered apair of command cars. Before the Spindrifters quite realized it, theywere whisked out of town, en route to the point where Briotti andShannon had vanished. Colonel Rojas' letter of introduction had reallyworked magic.
Rick stared out at the tropical landscape, and toward the peak of MountApo, an active volcano over nine thousand feet high, but he didn'treally notice details. In a short while they would be at what heconsidered the real start of their search.
The major drove the lead car, with Zircon in front beside him. Rick andScotty occupied the rear seat. In the second car were four armed,enlisted men. As the small convoy roared toward the town of Calinan,Major Lacson told them all he knew of the case. It was the sameinformation the three had already received, naturally enough, sincetheir information had been based on the officer's reports.
Rick shook his head worriedly. If Lacson, obviously an intelligent andefficient officer, could find out no more, how could three strangers?
The command car whisked by an abaca plantation, with mile after mile oflush green bananalike abaca plants extending into the foothills.
"Look." Scotty pointed at drying racks on which Manila hemp fiber,product of the abaca, was drying. The fiber was a honey blond shade.
"It's just the color of Barby's hair," Rick exclaimed.
Major Lacson explained, "Abaca is graded by color. White is best, butthat shade means it is very good. It will bring a good price." Then, asthe command car topped a rise, the major pointed ahead. "There isCalinan."
The town was a small one, with stores and houses on both sides of asingle main street. The place had a sleepy air.
At the edge of town Lacson drew up in front of a house that flew theflag of the republic. A sergeant ran out, came stiffly to attention, andsaluted. After a brief command from the major, the sergeant ran to climbinto the second car.
"Juan speaks a little Bagobo," Lacson explained. "He can translate forus."
The two cars moved through the town, past a group of colorfully arrayedpeople with flat turbans. "There are some Bagobos now," Lacson said."They come to town to shop."
Rick looked with interest. In the few seconds before the car sped out ofsight he saw that the primitives were light of skin, had pierced earsfrom which dangled loops, and that the men wore trousers formed of asingle piece of cloth put on like a skirt, then pulled between the legsand fastened to an ornate belt. Their clothes were brightly colored.
As Calinan dropped behind, the country turned to tropical forest, withtall lauan and tanguile trees, the source of so-called Philippinemahogany. Once Rick saw coffee bushes growing under the trees.
Then, only a short distance from Calinan, the paved road came to anabrupt end and narrowed to little more than a dirt trail. The commandcar bucked over hummocks of cogon grass while the boys held on to keepfrom being tossed out. Finally, in a small clearing, the road peteredout entirely.
This was the glade, Lacson explained, in which the truck driver had leftBriotti and Shannon. No one had seen them since.
Towering trees cut off the sun and the air was heavy and damp with thesmell of tropic growth. Mosquitoes whined.
Lacson handed around a small bottle of insect repellent. "Rub in well,"he directed. "You can leave your coats in the car. It will be a warmhike."
Rick shed his coat gladly. They had worn their tropical suits, andLacson had rushed them off so fast there had been no chance to change.
The major gave orders in Chebucano. Two troopers saluted and fell back.They would stay with the cars. Juan, the trooper from Calinan, took thelead as the rest started up the trail that led into the jungle from theclearing.
"Juan knows the trail," Lacson said. "Also, he is good at spottingsnakes and animals."
Rick fell into line behind Zircon and Lacson. Scotty walked at his sidewhile the two enlisted men brought up the rear.
It was an eerie hike, through growth so thick one couldn't see more thanfive paces on either side of the trail. Overhead the foliage met, andthe group walked through a kind of steaming green tunnel. The sun neverpenetrated to the jungle floor, where pale plants grew in profusion.
There was life in the trees overhead, heard but unseen. Once Rickrecognized the howl of monkeys. Again, by the side of the trail, therewas a sudden chittering and a tiny furry form made a fantastic leap tothe safety of a rattan vine. Rick caught a glimpse of a monkeylike faceand huge eyes.
"A tarsier," Zircon remarked. "Shannon had hoped to collect one."
Rick wondered whether Shannon and Briotti had hiked up this trail. Theheadman of the Bagobo village had told Lacson that the Americans had notbeen seen by his people. Might they have vanished on this trail?
He wiped his face and neck with a sodden handkerchief and plodded aheadthrough the green steam bath. Insects formed a cloud around his head,flew into his eyes and even into his mouth. He bore it stoically. It wasas bad for the others.
Anyone who walked off the beaten trails would be helplessly lost withouta compass or an experienced guide. A man could wander in the densegrowth until death in some unpleasant form claimed him. One couldn'teven see a trail from more than a few feet away.
Half an hour later, Rick saw that the growth was giving way to adifferent kind of jungle forest, as the trail sloped upward. In a shorttime they entered a more normal forest of tall, white lauans over ahundred feet high, with strange roots like flying buttresses.
Soon the forest gave way to open plain, sparsely dotted with papayatrees and a lone mango. Lacson called that they were almost at theirdestination. Rick wiped his face and was grateful. His clothes hung onhim as though he had been caught in a torrential rain. In spite of theinsect repellent, he had been chewed by assorted bugs.
He forgot his discomfort at the sight of the village. Apparentlycivilization had reached the Bagobos. The huts were of sawed lumber andtin roofing material. He saw one roof made from an American gasolinesign.
In contrast with the drab surroundings, the people were bright spots ofcolor. They eyed the group with frank curiosity, then followed as Juanled the way to the headman's hut.
The headman met them with dignified courtesy. Rick saw that the man wasnearly six feet tall, with a lean, hawklike face, the skin stretchedtightly over high cheekbones. He looked like an American Indian, but hisskin was the color of a white man who has spent his life outdoors in thetropics. The Bagobos clearly were of a different race than theFilipinos.
"That's quite a man," Scotty whispered.
Rick nodded. He, too, was impressed by the headman, except for onething. Although the Bagobo talked freely, through Juan, his eyes neveronce met those of any of the party. He looked everywhere but at thevisitors.
It was out of character, Rick thought. This man, who obviously had akind of fierce, barbaric pride, should look any man squarely in the eye.
The talk went smoothly, and Rick realized the headman had been throughall this before, probably more than once, in interviews with theconstabulary. To each question the Bagobo chieftain answered that he hadseen no Americans, nor had his people. Had they come to the village, hewould know it.
"We'll get nothing here," Zircon finally said to the major. "Frankly, Iexpected nothing. If there was information to be gained from this man,you could have gotten it."
Lacson shrugged. "True, perhaps. But I thought you would want to checkfor yourself."
Rick only half listened. He noticed a Bagobo standing nearby, watchingintently, and on impulse walked over to him and held out his hand. Thewarrior took it instantly and smiled, his brown eyes on Rick's.
_The w
arrior shook Rick's hand and smiled_]
Rick returned the smile and walked back to his friends, foreheadwrinkled in thought. That had been a straightforward reaction; theBagobo had met his eyes squarely and openly.
On the way back to Davao, Rick pondered the meaning of the headman'sfailure to look at any of them. But not until they were cleaning up atthe hotel did he decide to put his thoughts into words.
"The headman lied," Rick stated. "I can't figure it any other way. It'seasy to see that the Bagobos are a proud race. They're any man's equal,and they know it. The headman should be the proudest of all, butinstead, he was shifty. He wouldn't look at any of us."
"That's right," Scotty acknowledged. "He kept his eyes everywhere but onus."
Rick nodded. "What's more, he's not a shifty type. He looks like afierce old eagle who'd stare down a charging elephant. But he couldn'tlook at us because he was lying, and he was ashamed of it."
"You may have something," Zircon agreed after a moment of thought. "Iwasn't that observant, but now that you mention it, I believe theheadman kept his eyes on the ground most of the time. I agree itcertainly seemed out of character."
"If he was lying, what can we do about it?" Scotty asked.
Rick wasn't sure, but he had an idea of how to start. Earlier,immediately on arrival, he had tried to contact Chahda without success.Now he got a Megabuck unit, put the earplug into place, and tried again.
"Chahda, this is Rick. Are you on?"
The Hindu boy answered at once, and the signal was loud. He probably wasin the hotel. "Waiting, Rick. Where you been?"
Rick quickly sketched the day's activities, and Chahda replied that hehad spent time with his Indian contacts but had discovered nothing new.
"Okay, Rick," Chahda concluded. "I try to find out why headman lies.Tomorrow I go to Bagobo village to sell tax-tills. Be back noon, meetyou hotel."
"I hope you find out more than we did," Rick said.
Chahda urged, "Please not to worry. This good day's work. One man wholies maybe has keys to many doors!"