Chahda Checks In
Rick had expected the flight to Baguio to be a snap, but as it turned
out, he had to call for help. Angel Manotok carried the three
Spindrifters to the airport in the truck, Rick and Scotty riding behind,
then Angel departed for Baguio with Nast and his bundle of silks.
Rick checked in at the Philippine Aeronautics Commission, seeking
information on the airport at Baguio. He took one look at the approach
pattern and gulped. The approach was between high mountains, down a
valley, and then up a mountainside. What made it worse was that one
mountain looked much like another on the topographical map.
He exclaimed, "Boy! That's a rugged landing field to find!"
The Filipino official smiled. "You have maybe Navy flying experience?"
"No. Why?"
"Best experience for landing at Baguio is making landings on aircraft
carrier."
"Thanks," Rick said. "Any advice?"
"Yes. Go to Philippine Air Lines. Talk to flight dispatcher. PAL flight
leaves here maybe two hours. Just right for you. Fly to rendezvous.
Pretty soon along comes PAL flight and you follow in."
The advice was good, Rick realized. He could not do better than follow a
regular air-line flight into the field. He did as directed, met the
pilot of the next Baguio flight, a former Filipino pilot in the United
States Air Force, and was told the approximate time the PAL flight would
pass the Kennon Road horseshoe curve for the Baguio approach.
"Follow the Kennon Road," the pilot advised. "Pick me up when I go over
the curve. You can't mistake the place. Nothing else like it."
While Rick made arrangements, Tony and Scotty loaded their personal
suitcases into the luggage compartment with the earth scanner. Scotty
started the engine and checked the plane, so that it was warm when Rick
arrived. They took off at once and headed north across the great central
plain of Luzon.
The landscape below was flat, cut up by creeks and estuaries. It was
perfect rice country. Later they passed Mount Arayat, once the hide-out
of the Hukbalahap--the lawless forces that had been such a threat to
Philippine stability. Ahead of them rose the mountains of northern
Luzon. Within those mountains they would find Baguio and Mountain
Province.
Rick picked up the Kennon Road without trouble as it wound its way
through the foothills. Staying high, he followed it until he reached a
great switchback curve. A car following that road would literally double
back on itself, he thought. He glanced at his watch. The PAL plane would
be along in about two minutes. The pilot had estimated Rick's flying
time perfectly. Rick climbed, then circled until Scotty saw the
twin-engine transport approaching.
The PAL pilot waggled his wings, and Rick followed as the air liner
throttled down, swung between mountain peaks, and threaded its way down
a wide valley. Rick gulped. A good thing he had had the experienced
pilot to follow. He would never have found the way alone. The peaks were
completely confusing to someone who had never seen them before.
The air liner turned suddenly and Rick's heart leaped into his throat.
He thought the PAL plane was flying right into the mountainside. But
such was not the case. The plane settled down on a landing strip that
had been hewn from a mountaintop. It was obvious what the PAL official
had meant when he joked about carrier landings.
Rick followed the PAL plane in, and had to fight down his instinctive
feeling to gain altitude when he saw the mountainside rushing at him. He
nearly over-shot the landing strip. But then the Sky Wagon was down, and
he taxied toward the control station.
Scotty wiped his brow. "Some field!"
"Next time will be okay," Rick replied. "But this time I aged ten
years."
The Filipino pilot walked to meet them, grinning. "How do you like
Baguio airport?"
"I've landed on fields I liked better," Rick replied. "Thanks for
leading us in."
"You're welcome. I remember my first landing. Couldn't fly again for a
week. All I could think of was spreading my passengers all over the
hillside. But only the first time is hard. We fly in and out of here
several times a day, and we've never had a serious accident."
"Your air line doesn't go in for accidents," Tony Briotti said. "You
have a remarkable safety record."
"We do our best," the pilot said. "Going into town? I am. I have a car
behind the control shack. Be glad to give you a lift."
"Thanks a million," Rick answered. "First I have to make arrangements
for my plane."
The pilot grinned. "None to make. No hangars, no service except gas.
Just stake it down and lock the door. It will be all right."
It had to be all right. There was nothing else to do. The Spindrifters
took the earth scanner and their personal luggage, then locked the
plane, leaving the alarm activated. As an afterthought, Rick left a
duplicate key with the Filipino field official. Someone might touch it
casually and set the alarm off, and it would sound until the door was
unlocked and relocked again with the key. He explained how it worked and
then joined the pilot and his friends in the official air-line car.
The pilot dropped them at Muller's, a combination boardinghouse and
old-fashioned inn. They checked in, then climbed a nearby hill for a
view of Baguio.
As far as the eye could see, there were mountains. Steep ridges and deep
clefts made a picturesque jumble of the landscape. Beyond, over the
ridge, was the Trinidad Valley, a farm garden area where the American
colony of the Philippines got most of its temperate zone vegetables and
fruit. On the other side of town was the Golden Bowl of Benguet, where
fabulous gold mines were worked by Igorot miners clad only in
breechcloths and hard-rock helmets.
Baguio itself was a modern city in most respects. But the population--a
strange mixture of Christian Filipinos and primitive, pagan Igorots--was
unusual. The Filipinos wore typical Western dress, and actually dressed
pretty warmly. The Igorot men wore the breechcloth, perhaps with a shirt
or sweater, perhaps with nothing at all. Most of the men had tiny
pillbox caps of woven straw on the backs of their heads. The little
round boxes were decorated with such oddments as boar's tusks and coke
bottle caps. The Igorot women wore a tight-fitting skirt of colorful
wool, usually patterned in red or yellow. They wore blouses of
embroidered white cotton, or jackets of colored wool. Their skirts had
balls of yarn on the hips. The women wore no hats. Both sexes were
usually barefoot.
There were contrasts. For example, next to a great Christian cathedral
was the Igorot dog market. The Igorots were eaters of dog meat.
But it was not the Igorots or the mountains that had made Baguio famous
and turned it into the summer capital of the Philippines--it was the
climate. While Manila burned in the tropical sun, Baguio, thousands of
feet higher, had cool, fall-like weather. There was hardly a night
during the year when blankets were not comfortable. Even the foliage was
temperate rather than tropical. Baguio had pine trees, a welcome sight
to the Spindrift trio.
There was a tall, fragrant pine just outside the window of the room
shared by Rick and Scotty. When the boys returned to their rooms to wash
up for an early dinner, Rick leaned out and broke off a pine cone. Then,
by reaching only a bit further, he grabbed a cluster of purple-red
blossoms from a bougainvillea vine that had climbed the tree to their
second-floor height.
In the comfortable dining room, they chose a table in front of a roaring
fireplace, glad of the warmth. It was chilly in Baguio. While they
waited to be served, Rick mentioned the pine tree to Tony and commented
that it was odd that a tree should be left so close to a building.
"The forest practices of the Igorots and Ifugaos could well be copied by
us," Tony told the boys. "Anyone who cuts down a tree for anything other
than genuine use is severely punished. In the old days the punishment
might have been loss of his head. That's how much respect they have for
their water supply, which is dependent directly on their forests."
"You talk as though these were civilized people," Scotty commented.
Tony grinned. "Depends on what you call civilization. But they have a
very highly developed and complex culture. They have a history, too,
which they know better than we know ours. For instance, an Ifugao can
recite his ancestry as far back as twenty-five generations. Can you?"
"Not sure I'd want to," Scotty retorted. "Might be a few horse thieves
along the way. Seriously, I see what you mean."
"Their priests must know all about fifteen hundred different gods and
all the legends and taboos connected with each. No written books to
consult, either. All must be memorized."
"That certainly proves that they have good memories," Rick said. "I'm
not sure what else it proves."
"Wait until you see the rice terraces. Now let's order dinner. This cool
air has whetted my appetite like a razor's edge."
After a delicious meal of broiled steak, fresh vegetables from Trinidad
Valley, and the huge strawberries for which the valley is famous, the
three lingered over coffee and Tony recited more details of the Igorot
and Ifugao way of life, so different from their own. In the midst of the
recital Angel Manotok arrived.
"Good trip?" Rick asked.
"Yes. No trouble. The truck is a beauty. What do you want me to do now?"
Rick handed him the keys to their room. "You're pretty dusty. Wash up,
eat, then go to the airport. You'll find a spare bedroll in the crate
you carried by yourself back at the Manila Hotel. Keep an eye on the
plane, and we'll join you at breakfast time."
Although there was no reason to suspect that anyone would harm the
plane, none of them felt comfortable about leaving it unguarded. They
were sure it would be safe during the daylight hours, but darkness
afforded an opportunity for sabotage.
Angel took the keys and went on his way. In a short time he returned,
gave the keys back to Rick, and said, "I'll get supper at a Filipino
place. See you in the morning."
"Businesslike," Tony said approvingly. "No waste words or motion. I
think we were lucky to get him."
The boys agreed. "Wonder how he and Nast got along?" Rick queried. "I
forgot to ask him."
"He probably dropped off Nast and his silks before he came here," Scotty
commented.
At Tony's suggestion they walked around town, taking in the interesting
marketplace, the several cathedrals, the summer palace of the
Philippines president, and the parks. Baguio was different--and very
peaceful and pleasant. As they walked, they discussed their plans for
the next day.
Rick and Tony were to fly to Bontoc, which was still in Igorot country,
then cross the mountain to Banaue, which was the objective of the trip,
land of the Ifugaos and home of the fabled rice terraces. It was to be a
non-stop trip, mostly to familiarize Rick with the terrain. At the same
time, Scotty and Angel were to go by truck to Bontoc, several hours'
drive to the north. They would remain overnight. If Scotty could arrange
a landing place for the Sky Wagon, he would phone Rick at Muller's. Then
Rick and Tony would fly up the next morning. Scotty was a pilot himself,
so he knew the requirements for a good landing strip.
If no suitable landing place were available, Rick and Tony would hire a
jeep and drive to Bontoc. Jeeps were common in the Philippines, since
they were ideal vehicles for the back country. Hiring one would present
no problems.
With no landing place available, the Sky Wagon would not come into use
until the expedition found artifacts of value. Then Rick would return to
Baguio, get the plane, pick up the discoveries by cable, and deliver the
stuff to Okola in Manila for safekeeping and preliminary examination.
The exercise and the cool freshness of the air made them sleepy, and
presently, by mutual consent, they returned to Muller's.
"Might as well get to bed early," Tony said. "Then we can be up at dawn
and get off to an early start. Good night, boys."
The boys bade him good night and went to their own room, a few doors
down the hall. Scotty unlocked the door and swung it open, then let out
a yell of joy. Chahda was sprawled on one of the beds, reading a
magazine!
The Hindu boy was dressed in Western clothes, slacks and a sports
jacket.
He looked up as the door opened. "Hi," he said casually. "Nice walk?"
It was as though they had left him reading while they went for a stroll.
Chahda's casualness was too much for Rick and Scotty. They dove for him,
hauled him out of the bed, and pummeled him with sheer delight. Finally
Chahda yelled for mercy.
"I give in! Plenty okay! I glad to see you, too. Please do not break
leg, may need it."
"You no-good swami," Scotty said. "What's the idea of playing Sikh?"
The boys sat down on the bed opposite Chahda.
"Talk," Rick commanded. "What kind of gag is this?"
"Best way to learn about people is to be one of them," Chahda said with
dignity. "I have been Filipino and Sikh. Now I become Igorot. First I
learned about this new country from Alm-in-ack. Says this largest group
in Malay Archipelago. What is archipelago, please?"
Rick saw the twinkle in Chahda's eye and knew that their friend was
following his usual custom of teasing them. "Archy Pelago is the black
sheep of the Pelago family," he said. "Archy first fell from grace when
he got into a fight with neighbors. It was a real melee. Hence his
nickname. Melee Archy Pelago...."
A pillow caught him in the face, smothering his words. Scotty pushed him
over on the bed and sat on him.
"Come on, Chahda. I'm so curious I could spring a seam. What's going
on?"
Rick squirmed, got nowhere, and finally sank his teeth into Scotty hard
enough to get results. Scotty let out a yell that could have been heard
in Singapore.
Tony Briotti pounded on the door and called, "How do you expect the
paying guests to sleep with that racket going on?"
The boys let him in and introduced Chahda. Tony shook hands with the
Hindu boy. "I was beginning to believe you were a figment of the
well-known Spindrift imagination. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise am honored to meet brilliant young scientist," Chahda said
politely. "My worthless friends tell me they even call you by nickname,
while other scientists are called by title. This is mark of high esteem,
I think. Glad to meet you, _Sahib_ Tony."
"Chahda was just going to give us the low-down," Rick said.
"That what the yelling was about?" Tony asked.
"Scotty yelled," Rick said. "Mosquito bit him."
"That mosquito is going to get swatted when he least expects it," Scotty
promised. "Come on, Chahda. Spin us a yarn."
"Okay." Chahda sat cross-legged on Rick's bed. "You know I went to
Manila Hotel. For three days I waited. Then one day I sit next to famous
Assistant Secretary of Exterior."
"Interior," Rick corrected. "Lazada."
"Yes. Soon he is met by a friend who sits with him. This friend is not
known to me then. But I listen. I hear Lazada's friend say that soon
come Americans who will desec--What is ruin religious things, please?"
"Desecrate," Tony supplied.
"Yes. Do that to sacred Ifugao things. This friend begs Lazada not to
give permit."
The three Spindrifters were sitting on the edges of the beds now,
concentrating on every word.
"Friend says Americans will dig up rice terraces, looking for gold.
Sacred objects of gold will be carried away, and earth-cokes and drafts
will fall on Ifugao people."
"Earthquakes and droughts," Rick corrected.
"That is what I said," Chahda nodded. "Lazada objects that these are not
real gold things, and the friend says they are. Real gold. Much gold.
All very sacred. Again he begs Lazada not to allow this sacker-ledge."
"Sacrilege."
"Yes. Anyway, Lazada says Americans have much influence. He does not
know if he can stop them. But he will try. I do not believe he talks
truth. His looks do not make me trust him. You know?"
The boys knew.
"When friend leaves, I think I follow him. He starts out, then he meets
American on steps of hotel. I get close and listen. He says to American,
how you like to add gold to your smuggle into China?"
Rick whistled. He had heard that smuggling gold from the Philippines
into China was big business.
"American says plenty like. Where is gold? Lazada says we not talk here,
you come to my house tonight--no, tomorrow. Got big official dinner
tonight, and there is plenty time. Then I decide I must know more. So I
go to Number One Sikh in Manila and tell him he has new strong boy to be
guard at Lazada's, after I make sure Lazada has Sikh guards. This is
arranged. No trouble."
Chahda always made it sound dramatic but easy, Rick thought. He doubted
that it was as simple as the Hindu boy made out.
"American comes, and I am not able to hear much of talk. But I get
American's name. You know him. Since this morning."
"Nast!" Rick exclaimed.
"Yes. Also comes to Lazada's house the Filipino friend, but he is not
Filipino. He is Ifugao. About him I do not know, except that he is
called No Palate. Or something like that. I would like to follow him,
but I think better I stay with Lazada. Good thing, too, because Nast
comes again, and this time I listen. Lazada tells Nast first to meet
you, so you will know and trust him. Then Nast is to get in touch with
No Palate. Lazada says he has told No Palate that he cannot keep permit
from you, but that American friend will help keep you from digging up
Ifugao sacred things."
Chahda shrugged. "What am I to do? I stop being Sikh. My Number One Sikh
buddy-chum helps me meet Igorot who used to be scout for constabulary.
Name of Dog Meat. Fine name, huh? Dog Meat will help. I hire him. Need
helper named Dog Meat for sure." He grinned.
The boys chuckled, and Tony explained, "That is actually a very
honorable name. Dog meat is a ceremonial meat among the Igorots."
"Best reason I've heard for hiring anyone in a long time," Rick
commented.
Chahda continued, "This morning I try to catch you at Manila, but reach
hotel too late, then reach airport too late. But I do some watching, and
I find out man with same describing as Nast has been visiting with you
at airport. You already gone. Nast already gone. Dog Meat and me, we
take next PAL plane to Baguio. When get here, there is your Sky Wagon.
At least I think it is yours, because it is like you told me in your
letter. So I come here, but not come directly to room, because I think
maybe better I stay undercover. So climb tree and come in window."
The Hindu boy made a gesture of "all done." "Next time you see me, I be
Ifugao. Or maybe Igorot. Maybe even Kalinga." He named another related
pagan group. "Will decide when I see what is to be did. But already have
name." He smiled blandly. "Name myself for Scotty."
Rick moved out of the line of fire.
Chahda bowed. "Meet Cow Brain."
Scotty reached for him. Tony and Rick ducked.