CHAPTER I

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Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the

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THE GOLDEN SKULL

A RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE STORY

BY JOHN BLAINE

GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

NEW YORK, N. Y.

COPYRIGHT, 1954, BY

GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

_Printed in the United States of America_

[Illustration: _The Ifugaos, faces distorted with hatred and fury,

pursued them._]

Contents

I THE HEAD-HUNTER

II MANILA AFTER DARK

III THE GODS OF BANAUE

IV INSIDE THE WALLS

V MANOTOK THE MIGHTY

VI CHAHDA CHECKS IN

VII IGOROT COUNTRY

VIII THE BONTOC ROAD

IX IFUGAO COUNTRY

X AMBUSH

XI WARRIORS THREE

XII THE IFUGAO VILLAGE

XIII THE PEACEFUL PROFESSION

XIV SIGN OF THE DRAGON

XV UNDER THE DRAGON'S CLAWS

XVI FLYING SPEARS

XVII MAKE OR BREAK

XVIII THE SKY WAGON

XIX THE NIPA HUT

XX SURPRISE PACKAGE

THE GOLDEN SKULL

CHAPTER I

The Head-hunter

It was hot in the cabin of the freighter _Asiatic Dream_. The heaviness

of the tropical heat outside the ship penetrated through the steel and

flaking paint of the deck to turn the cabin into an oven.

Rick Brant and Don Scott, stripped to their shorts, were oblivious of

the heat. They sat hunched over a three-dimensional chessboard, studying

the complex moves of their newest hobby. Now and then they glared at

each other, or paused to wipe the sweat from their faces or arms, but

otherwise they concentrated on the three-layer board and the chessmen.

The rivalry was intense, and had been ever since Hartson Brant, Rick's

distinguished scientist father, had introduced them to the game back

home on Spindrift Island.

Watching them was Dr. Anthony Briotti. Clad in tropical tan shorts and

nothing else, he looked like a college athlete. Little about him

suggested that he was an archaeologist with an international reputation.

Presently he rose and left the cabin, heading for the deck. He didn't

bother to say where he was going; he knew the boys wouldn't even notice.

On deck, Briotti leaned against the rail and peered ahead to where the

rocky fortress of Corregidor loomed at the mouth of Manila Bay. His

pulse beat faster at the sight of the famous island. He knew its

outline. He had commanded a destroyer during World War II. Even though

the faint light of a new moon showed only vague outlines, he recognized

the old Spanish prison rock below the overhang of Corregidor, and he

remembered that his guns had blasted at the Japanese from that very

point.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow move fleetingly. He turned

but saw nothing. Then, because he was busy with his memories, he turned

back to the dim, haunting view of Corregidor and thought no more about

it.

Below, Rick Brant moved his king diagonally across the three-dimensional

chessboard and said triumphantly, "Checkmate!"

Scotty rose, drew back one muscular leg as though to kick the set into

the air, then grinned. "Had to let you win. Bad for morale to lose all

the time. Next time I'll teach you how to lose."

Rick snorted. "You let me win like a mother bear would let me walk off

with her cubs. It's my remarkable intellect that won that game, and

nothing else."

"Won by your wits, eh?" Scotty mopped his wet face. "And you only half

armed!"

Rick shied a chessman at him. "Wait until we teach this game to Chahda."

Scotty chuckled. "He'll probably beat us both at once, then we'll find

out he learned how to play from the latest edition of _The World

Almanac_."

Chahda, their Hindu friend, had learned about America by memorizing an

old copy of the _Almanac_, and he quoted from it at every opportunity.

Since their first meeting in Bombay during the adventure of _The Lost

City_, the Indian boy had been with them on several expeditions. Now he

was to meet them in Manila to help them in their search for one of

ancient history's most fabulous treasures.

Rick, a tall, slim boy, with light-brown hair and brown eyes, led the

way up the ladder to the deck. Scotty, bigger and slightly darker in

coloring, followed close behind. They walked toward the bow, searching

for Briotti, their eyes not yet accustomed to the darkness.

Rick called, "Tony?"

"Here by the rail," the archaeologist answered.

The boys moved toward him, but someone--or something--moved faster. A

shadowy form sped past them, and Rick's quick eyes caught the flash of

light on steel. He yelled, "Watch it!"

Tony moved, and a steel blade clanged off the ship's rail. Rick and

Scotty leaped forward, grasping for the shadow. The steel blade lifted

again. Scotty grabbed a wrist and twisted. The blade clattered to the

deck. Rick got his arms around a sweaty waist and squeezed, bracing his

feet to lift the man off the deck. Then an elbow caught him in the

Adam's apple and flooded his eyes with tears of pain. He loosened his

grip involuntarily and felt the man squirm free. Scotty yelled, "Get

him!"

Tony Briotti swung a roundhouse right that missed and sent him sprawling

off balance. Then the assailant was on the rail, poised. Scotty lunged

for his ankle as the man dived cleanly out and away from the ship into

the dark water. The three rushed to the rail, watching for the swimmer.

"Man overboard!" Tony's voice lifted in a shout that brought the crew

running.

For a few moments there was confusion as the officers and crew tried to

find out what had happened, and then the searchlight on the bridge was

manned and its white beam cut the water.

There was no swimmer. But off toward Bataan Peninsula the light

reflected from the patched sail of a _banca_, an outrigger canoe,

sailing toward shore with a bone in its teeth.

A few moments later the three Spindrifters stood in the captain's

office, staring at a Filipino bolo, a long, slightly curving machete

with a square tip. Tony hefted it and shuddered. "If you hadn't

yelled--well, this thing landed right where my head had been a second

before."

"If I hadn't said anything," Rick replied, "it wouldn't have been

anywhere near your neck. I put the finger on you by calling your name."

Scotty snapped his fingers. "Of course! The guy must have been hiding,

until he heard us call. Then, when you answered, he knew you were the

one he was after, and he went for you."

Tony stared, incredulous. "But why? I can't imagine why a mountain

Igorot would board the ship for the express purpose of killing me!"

It was Rick's turn to stare. "How did you know he was an Igorot?"

"Either an Igorot or an Ifugao," Tony replied. "I caught a glimpse of

his head structure as he jumped onto the rail. Besides, the haircut is

distinctive. It looks as though a bowl had been put on the head and all

hair removed that it didn't cover."

Rick knew that an Igorot was a primitive native of the Philippine

Mountain Province. All of them had received a series of lectures on

Philippine ethnology from Tony before leaving home. The Igorots bore

roughly the same relationship to the regular Filipino as American

Indians do to the white American. Ifugao natives were much like the

Igorots, but with a slightly more advanced culture. They, too, lived in

Mountain Province, the objective of the Spindrift expedition.

The trip had grown out of an earlier expedition to Kwangara Island in

the western Pacific. Dr. Anthony Briotti had helped translate the

tablets found in the sunken temple of Alta Yuan, and had discovered the

connection between the early people of the Philippines--of whom the

Igorots and Ifugaos were the descendants--and the white dragon

worshipers of Alta Yuan.

One plaque from the sunken temple had described the Ifugao rice terraces

of Mountain Province in unmistakable detail, and also had described a

skull of gold which was said to have magic properties.

Tony Briotti had been so enthusiastic about locating this fabulous

skull, and proving the connection between Alta Yuan and the Philippines,

that Hartson Brant, head of the Spindrift Foundation, had made

arrangements for the small expedition. None of the other Spindrift

scientists could be spared, so Tony Briotti had only Rick and Scotty as

assistants. Chahda was to join them in Manila. The boys thought that was

help aplenty. No other helpers were needed.

"I don't believe it," Tony stated. "It is simply beyond possibility that

an Igorot could have boarded this ship with the express intention of

killing me. More likely, he boarded the ship to steal, thought he was

discovered, and headed for the rail where his banca was tied. I was in

the way. That's all."

"No one saw the banca approach," the ship's captain said, "but of course

it could have. We've been traveling at only a few knots, and the banca

could have approached from the stern, thrown a line over the rail, and

tied up. Dangerous, but a clever native could do it. They're like cats.

Make fine sailors." He added, "Never heard of it being done before, but

there's no reason to think it was an attempt at murder. Thieves in the

Orient are willing to take long chances."

Rick stared through the port at the lights of Manila. He was very

thoughtful. Let Tony try to brush the incident aside. He knew better. He

knew it in his bones. There was trouble ahead for the Spindrifters.

He caught Scotty's worried frown, and he knew that his pal's thoughts

were the same.

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