could station a couple of the gang to heave rocks
down."

"That's probably as good as anything."

A shadowy figure approached, climbing down the terraces from above.
Chahda whispered, "Dog Meat come. I go see what he finds out."

Below, the fire was burning more brightly, and Rick could see several
persons bringing wood. Apparently there was to be a large bonfire. He
groaned softly. That meant light to make their task harder.

Chahda consulted with his friend for a few moments, then rejoined Rick
and Scotty. Angel, Pilipil, and Balaban were grouped at the rear of the
terrace, waiting for instructions.

"Dog Meat know which hut Tony is in. Has two guards. Nangolat gone
somewhere."

"Why are they building up the fire?" Rick asked.

"Not know. I think better we move. We climb down. Dog Meat will take us
to Tony. We cut him loose and fight our way back."

Suddenly they stiffened as a rhythmic metallic clanging sound floated up
to them.

Angel Manotok moved to their side. "Ifugao music," he whispered. "I've
heard it before. The instruments are _tinaklings_, like pans, suspended
from human jawbones. They're getting ready for some kind of ceremony
down there."

"Then we'll wait," Scotty said. "If they get started on some kind of
ceremony, we may have a chance to move in quietly."

"That makes sense," Rick agreed, and Chahda nodded.

They crouched on the edge of the terrace and watched as the fire below
grew into a roaring blaze. Men and women could be seen clearly now. The
musicians--if the clanging could be called music--were next to the fire.
Then, the people fell back, and six men and six women took their places
in two lines and began to dance. It was a stiff, formal sort of dance
with little body movement. Hands and arms made gestures which Rick could
not interpret, while the feet shuffled slowly in the dust.

Scotty touched his shoulder. "Let's go. Chahda, you, Rick, Dog Meat, and
I will go. Angel, Pilipil, and Balaban will stay here to cover our
retreat. Angel, you can use a rifle. Have Pilipil and Balaban pry loose
some big rocks. Use your own judgment. We don't want a war, but we don't
want to lose our heads, either."

"How about our truck?" Rick asked.

Chahda replied. "It is not here. Nangolat took it. We get Tony, then we
take the road Nangolat took. Dog Meat knows."

The fire was bright enough so Rick could see Dog Meat for the first
time. The little Igorot was an older edition of Pilipil. He w