"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 wore only a breechcloth and the little pillbox hat in which he kept his matches and tobacco. His face was wrinkled and gnomelike.
"Lead on," Rick said.
Dog Meat went to the edge of the terrace and slipped over. He climbed down with incredible swiftness. Then Chahda followed. Rick made sure his carbine was slung tightly across his back, then followed. His feet groped for toe holds in the rough stone wall of the terrace and found them without too much difficulty, but his descent was slower than Dog Meat or Chahda's. He was painfully conscious that he was an excellent target. Below, chanting voices joined the rhythmic clanging. The sound of their descent would not be heard.
Rick reached the bottom of the terrace and found Chahda and Dog Meat waiting. There were two more terraces to descend before the village level was reached. In a moment Scotty joined them. Dog Meat led the way once more. The party made its way down the face of the terrace and emerged on a level only thirty feet above the village floor.