Scotty pointed to the Hindu boy, who was watching them with an impassive stare, as though he had never seen them before.
"Pilipil, how do you know this boy good? Can be trusted?"
Pilipil shrugged and showed betel-stained teeth in a smile. "Not know. Maybe no good. But say he know you."
Scotty looked stern. "You. What have you to say for yourself?"
"Plenty," Chahda said. "Am plenty tired of pulling Spindrift chestnuts out of fire. You know how cold it gets in these mountain? Last night I freeze. I almost attack whole Ifugao village barehanded, just to get blankets from supplies on truck. Tonight you take off clothes, put on breechcloth, and stand out in cold. I stay in nice warm hotel, in Baguio. Worrold Alm-in-ack say this tropical country. Hah! Like North Pole is tropical."
Rick and Scotty grinned sympathetically. "If you weren't so in love with being mysterious and adventurous," Rick pointed out, "you could sleep in comfortable beds in warm rooms. But no. You have to be Chahda the Vanishing Hindu. And a good thing, too, otherwise Scotty and I would be floundering most of the time, not knowing where to turn next. Is Tony okay?"
Chahda rose. He looked astonishingly like Pilipil and Balaban. From haircut to bare feet he was an Igorot. Only his brown eyes, proportionally bigger than those of the real Igorots, were different.
"Tony is okay. Or was last night. My pal Dog Meat is keeping eye on him. You see Nast?"
"In Baguio, last night." Scotty told Chahda of their visit with Nast and Lazada.
Chahda nodded. "Nast and Nangolat in cahoots. Nast picks up Tony at airport, takes him to hut near Trinidad Valley. I see all this. At hut is Nangolat, with truck of lumber. Nast turns Tony over to Nangolat, so I drop Nast and follow Tony. Me and Dog Meat, we have fine time. You fly overhead, too, but see nothing. Not even me. You getting blind, I think. Lose famous Brant eyesight."