A screaming madman leaped at them, spear extended. It was Nangolat, face distorted with hatred and fury. He thrust at Tony, but the archaeologist knocked the spear aside. Then, as Nangolat's thrust carried him close, Tony let loose a roundhouse that caught the Ifugao squarely on the jaw, whirled him sideways, and dropped him like a log in the dust of the road. Then Rick let out the clutch and the jeep leaped ahead. A spear went through the windshield and showered glass on him, but he only squinted his eyes against the flying splinters and fed the jeep more gas.
Ahead were the red taillights of the truck and the other jeep. The plan had worked, all right. He didn't know whether or not their supplies were in the truck, but they would soon find out.
"I'll say one thing about being a Spindrift scientist," Tony said from beside him. "It is never dull. Do you wild Indians go in for this sort of thing often?"
"Only when necessary," Rick said. "Of course it has been necessary pretty often. So we're in practice, you might say."
Tony chuckled. "I'm grateful. You know what Nangolat is working up to, I presume?"
Rick didn't, and said so.
"He planned to force me to locate the golden artifacts with the earth scanner. Then, the find was to be celebrated with the sacrifice of a head. That was the part I objected to most. You see, the head was to be mine!"