"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."