Chahda drew his barong and made a few practice swings. The blade gleamed in the starlight.
Rick led the way, westward along the beach to where the black lava rock lay in tumbled masses. If they could climb across the tongue of lava, all would be well. If not, they would have to return to the beach and swim around it.
The lava was in big chunks, and there were ample hand and footholds. It was an easy climb to the top of the flow, only about twenty feet above sea level, and an easy climb down again. The only hard part was moving across the top of the flow, through the mass of lava boulders.
Presently the two boys stood on soil, still hidden among lava outcroppings. The village was to their left. In front of them, to the west, was a cornfield. Rick wasn't surprised to see the corn. He knew that from the central Philippines south to Sulu there was more corn eaten than rice.
"Keep an eye open for a guard," he whispered to Chahda. "We'll wait a few minutes to see if one shows up. Then, if it seems clear, we'll move along the edge of the cornfield toward the village."
"Good plan," Chahda agreed.
Rick strained to catch sound or motion. When his luminous watch dial told him five minutes had elapsed, he leaned toward Chahda. "No sign of a guard. Let's go."
Apparently the pirates were sure attack could come only from the west, as Zircon had thought.
Undoubtedly they had lookouts on the western shore.
Rick led the way, keeping close to the abrupt rise of the volcanic cone. He saw there were plenty of gaps and holes in the lava into which they could duck, as well as the cornfield. Knowing they could be out of sight in a matter of seconds gave him confidence, and he moved rapidly ahead.