Under the Dragon's Claws
The Spindrift group jumped into action. Rick, Tony, and Chahda carried
the earth scanner into the recess and set it up. Scotty consulted with
Angel, and at a word from the Filipino, Balaban the Igorot climbed the
wall to the terrace above their heads where he sprawled among the rice
with rifle ready.
Angel moved to the left about fifty feet, while Scotty moved the same
distance to the right. Dog Meat ran down the meadow to the road, crossed
the terrace, and took up a watch on the village.
"Work fast," Tony said. "They must know we're here. If they didn't see
us, they at least heard the motors."
Rick was already at work. He plugged in the probe, checked the controls,
then turned them over to Tony. The scientist set the controls and turned
on the activation switch.
Rick moved the probe in a long sweep, starting in front of the dragon,
while Tony and Chahda watched the scope.
"Standard pattern," Tony reported. "Keep it moving ... no change ... no
change...."
Rick stepped sideways and moved the probe through a slightly different
arc. "No change...."
Again Rick took a step and swung the probe. He kept moving until the
probe had nearly covered the ground in front of the dragon, then he took
a position next to the bronze statue and covered the ground directly
under its nose.
"Wait!" There was excitement in Tony's voice. "You're on something!"
"Metal?" Rick asked quickly.
"No. It's not a metal response. Some kind of stone, but not the usual
type found around here."
Tony had a pad out and was making a sketch of the recess, marking the
position of the dragon. Then, while Rick moved the probe through a new
arc, his pencil shaded in the area where the odd response showed on the
scope.
Rick repeated the scanning process to one side of the dragon, and again
the response was normal until he got close. He changed sides, and the
result was the same. Then he went to the rear of the dragon, expecting a
changed response there. But the results were identical. At last he gave
up, feeling a bit let down, and joined Tony and Chahda. They were
examining Tony's sketch.
"Plenty clear to me," Chahda said. "Right under old man dragon is round
hole. See?"
Chahda was right. The changed responses, when charted on Tony's sketch,
showed a circle about six feet in diameter with its center directly
under the dragon.
"But no metal," Tony said. "That's odd."
Rick frowned. "It can't be an underground base for the dragon," he said.
"A base would be close to the surface. This response seems to start
about two feet under."
He stared out across the meadow and noted that Dog Meat was trotting
toward them, but he paid no attention because his mind was working on
the problem.
"It could be a crypt of some kind," he said. He went to the truck and
got a shovel. "I have an idea." He went to work.
Dog Meat arrived and chattered excitedly. Angel came running, listened,
and translated.
"The village is up in arms. Nangolat is making a speech and the young
men are getting ready to make war."
Rick dug, working on a shaft under the dragon's pedestal. The earth was
packed hard and he had to get a pick. Tony relieved him, and they took
turns until the shaft slanted in to what they estimated was a point
directly under the center of the pedestal.
"Now," Rick said, and took the probe. He put it into the shaft and
watched expectantly while Tony adjusted the controls. Suddenly the scope
flickered, breaking up the Christmas tree pattern. There were at least
three different responses, two of them definitely in the metals range.
"This is it!" Tony yelled. "It has to be! Rick, that was an inspiration.
The cache is right under the dragon!"
There was another yell, from outside the recess. It was Balaban, on the
terrace above. "They come!"
For the moment the find was forgotten. The Spindrift party stood between
the truck and jeep watching as nearly a hundred Ifugao warriors walked
with menacing silence to the edge of the meadow and stopped.
Nangolat, naked except for a breechcloth, stepped from the ranks of
Ifugao warriors. He held a spear a foot taller than he, a vicious weapon
with a triangular point and flared base.
The Ifugao walked ceremoniously across the meadow to a point twenty
yards in front of the recess. "You're trapped," he said. His voice
trembled with hatred. "You can't get away from us now. Come out and
throw down your weapons."
Tony stepped forward, rifle held carelessly under his arm. He stopped
ten paces in front of the Ifugao.
"We and you want the same thing," he said. "The artifacts."
Nangolat thrust the metal-shod base of his spear into the earth. "We
want the same thing, but for different reasons. I want to preserve the
sacred objects of my people. You want to desecrate them."
"That's not true," Tony replied. "When we touch them it will be with
reverence, with respect for the gods of Banaue. Then, when we have
collected them all, we will buy many pigs for a great feast of
thanksgiving for all the people of Ifugao. The sacred objects will be
used by your priests for ceremonies. Then you, Nangolat, will go with us
when we carry them to Manila. In Manila we will measure them and
photograph them and make sketches. These methods are familiar to you."
Tony paused, searching Nangolat's face for some sign of a change in his
attitude. "When we are done, we will ask to see the president of the
Philippines. We will petition him to assist in the building of a
temple-museum on this very spot. My scientific foundation will give the
first donation for this purpose. Dr. Okola will help. Then, I hope, the
sacred objects can come back to Ifugao to stay forever, in a place where
all Ifugaos may see them."
Tony held out his hand, palm upward. "Is that desecration?"
Nangolat leaned forward, half bowing in his excitement. "The artifacts
must not leave Ifugao!"
"You know Dr. Okola," Tony replied. "Would he insist that they go to
Manila? I would not. I could take photographs and measurements right
here. The objects need not leave here, so far as I am concerned. That
would be between you and the Filipino authorities."
Nangolat was obviously impressed. "Wait," he commanded. "I must talk
with the priests."
He turned on his heel and walked back to the waiting Ifugao warriors.
Several men detached themselves from the group and followed as he led
the way across the terrace toward the village.
Rick breathed freely for the first time. "Tony, I think he's going for
it!"
"I certainly hope so," the scientist said with relief. "But regardless
of how the decision goes, the artifacts must be collected. Let's get
some work done."
How to get the dragon away from the underground crypt was solved with
the truck winch. The cable was passed around the pedestal and the whole
business hauled forward. Then Rick, Scotty, Angel, and Chahda began to
dig while Tony examined each inch of progress for signs that the crypt
was being reached.
A whistle came from outside. Dog Meat beckoned. The party stopped
digging and hurried out in time to see a station wagon come to a halt on
the road above the village. Six men got out and were met by an elderly
Ifugao. But before they were ushered to the village they took time to
stare at the Spindrift expedition.
The Spindrift group stared back with a combination of fear,
disappointment, and disgust. Four of the men were strangers. One was an
American--James Nast. The sixth was the Assistant Secretary of the
Interior!