The headman seemed to wilt.
Another trooper ran up, and he carried a leather quiver that Rick recognized instantly. It also was Shannon's. He knew it well, from their field archery games. In the quiver was the bow, a takedown model, and three dozen arrows.
"Major, what are we going to do?"
For reply, the officer planted himself in front of the headman, his voice harsh. "Tell him, Professor Gonzalez, that we have evidence enough. Unless he has a good explanation, we must believe that his village murdered the Americans. For this, some of his people may pay with their lives."
Dr. Gonzalez translated into Bagobo. For long minutes the headman sat quietly, then he rose to his full height and looked the officer in the eye.
"I am caught between a knife and a spear," Dr. Gonzalez translated. "There is death either way. It is true, the Americans came. We made them welcome. For one evening they stayed. We gave them and their Moro a house to sleep in. Then, after it was dark and we slept, men came. The Americans and the Moro fought, but the men tied them up and carried them away. Then the men said that if one person in my village spoke of this, all would die. The two things we found were not taken because they were in a corner of the hut and were not seen. All else was removed."
"Ask him who the men were and why he didn't fight for the Americans," Lacson directed.
The Filipino language expert posed the question, then translated the reply. "He does not know the men, or their names. He did not fight because it was useless. His people would have died and the Americans would not have been saved."
"Ask him how he knows this."
The Bagobo's reply was terse. "He knows," Gonzalez said. "He will say no more."