The Golden Skull: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story. Goodwin Harold Leland

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СКАЧАТЬ an ounce, legally. If smuggled into China, it would bring twice that…

      "Tell me more of this dragon," Lazada invited.

      Tony was glad to oblige. Next to actually working at his profession he enjoyed talking about it. "The dragon is of the greatest importance throughout the culture of the East. We followed its trail from the great temple of Ankor Vat in Cambodia all the way to the sunken temple of Alta Yuan."

      Rick remembered vividly. He had been at the controls of the Submobile, a hundred fathoms under the waters of the Pacific, when the first Alta Yuan dragon came to light.

      "The dragon was the incarnation of the chief god of the Alta Yuan people. When an earthquake sank the temple, the people of the island lost their gods. When we hauled the dragon back up and gave it to them, nothing was too good for us." He paused. "By 'we' I mean the Spindrift scientists. I was not among the lucky ones, since I had not yet joined the Spindrift group."

      Okola shared Tony's excitement over the Alta Yuan find. "I, too, was very much interested in that expedition. And when I heard that the artifacts brought from the bottom of the sea provided a possible connection between the Philippines and that ancient culture, you can imagine my excitement."

      Rick could see that Lazada could not possibly imagine so much excitement over an archaeological find, but was too courteous to say so.

      "Then finding a similar dragon among the rice terraces would show a link between our country and the ruins of Ankor Vat?" Lazada asked.

      "Exactly," Tony replied.

      Lazada rose. "Dinner is ready. Let us continue our discussion at the table."

      They went out to a balcony which overlooked a garden at the rear of the house. A table set with the finest Chinese linen and delicate Siamese silverware was waiting for them. Houseboys waited to serve them. Over a dinner of broiled giant prawns, meat-stuffed rolls called lumpia, and whole barbecued suckling pig called lechon, they continued their talk of the expedition.

      "What is the significance of the golden skull?" Lazada asked.

      "I did not know until today," Tony answered. "I found out from my esteemed colleague here. He has been doing some very hard work on it. Will you answer, Dr. Okola?"

      The Filipino archaeologist looked pleased, but he hastened to say, "The credit is not mine alone. I had the invaluable assistance of one of my graduate students, who is himself an Ifugao. A brilliant young man. Next week I am attending a celebration at his home, in honor of his becoming an assistant professor at the university."

      "I'm sorry I didn't meet him," Tony Briotti said. "Did you mention his name?"

      "Nangolat. However, Mr. Lazada asked about the significance of the golden skull. We were able to uncover a story about it among the many Ifugao myths, a story of which I had not been aware until Dr. Briotti's letters put me on the track. You realize that the Ifugao religion is rich in myths. It is a very complicated religion with over a thousand gods."

      Scotty whistled. "They must have a god for nearly everything they say or do."

      "Just about," Dr. Okola agreed. "Even their universe is divided into five regions. There is the known earth, pugao; the sky world, kabunian; the region downriver, lagod; the region upriver, daiya; and the underworld, dalun."

      "What river?" Rick asked.

      "Any river on which they happen to live," Okola answered. "No one knows exactly what the original river of the Ifugaos might have been. You see, they are immigrants. They came from the Chinese mainland, but we don't know exactly when, or whether their original home was China. Perhaps we will find out that it was Cambodia. We do know that their miraculous rice terraces were started at least two thousand years ago."

      "That makes them almost as old as the pyramids!" Scotty exclaimed.

      "Quite right. The whole culture is quite astonishing. We think of them as primitive people, but their history is more complex than our own. However, we are speaking of heads. Heads have always been of the greatest religious importance to the Ifugaos. They have been head-hunters for religious and economic reasons for centuries. First America, and then the Republic of the Philippines tried to stamp out the custom. In general, we have succeeded. There is little or no head-hunting now – so far as we know."

      Lazada grunted. "The mountains are difficult to police. I doubt that we know all that goes on. I wouldn't be surprised if a head wasn't taken now and then. After all, the Ifugaos got the heads of two American professors only a few years ago."

      "The murders were for religious reasons," Okola explained. "Sacrifices were needed for the rice crop. The unfortunate professors were on a hiking trip, and they happened along at just the wrong moment."

      Rick remembered newspaper reports of the incident. It had attracted world-wide attention. The Ifugao natives responsible had been captured by the Philippine constabulary, tried, and punished.

      Okola continued, "We have traced back a thread through the complicated maze of Ifugao myths. The thread leads to a legendary hero – the leader-god who led the Ifugaos to the Philippines. The golden skull was originally his own, turned to gold by the very power of the hero's magic. After his death, of course. At first it was an ordinary skull, then it turned to gold."

      "Then the skull has something to do with head-hunting?" Rick asked.

      "Indeed it does. It is apparently the chief object to which heads are sacrificed – or was, before it was lost. The golden skull is almaduan, the very soul stuff of the Ifugaos."

      "How was it lost?" Scotty inquired.

      "In a war," Okola said, quite seriously, "between the kabunian, the gods of the sky world, and the dalun, the gods of the underworld. The dalun won. They took the head and disappeared into the ground somewhere in Banaue. Behind them, they left a great taboo. If an Ifugao tries to follow them into the underworld to reclaim the skull, great misfortune will come. An earthquake will destroy the terraces. The people will starve. They will be haunted by the dodingerot– ghouls who dwell in tombs and bite the faces of intruders."

      "Then the Ifugaos will take a dim view of our hunting their golden skull," Rick guessed.

      "They might if they knew about it," Dr. Okola said. "Actually, what I have just told you is almost forgotten lore. I doubt that the Ifugao man in the street – or, properly, man in the rice terraces – has ever heard of it. A few old priests may remember."

      Irineo Lazada clapped his hands and rose. "Coffee in the living room, gentlemen. You know, I begin to have some hope for this golden skull. I had not really taken your expedition seriously until Dr. Okola's recital."

      Tony Briotti picked him up quickly. "Then that is why you have failed to issue our permit?"

      Rick stopped in his tracks. Was there trouble about their permit? He had wondered about the reason for this dinner with the Assistant Secretary of the Interior. Perhaps it was to persuade him.

      Lazada smiled. "The government doesn't want to stir up trouble among the mountain tribes. We do not have enough constabulary for police duty in the mountains. A small detachment at Baguio is the best we can do."

      "I assure you that we will not stir up trouble," Tony Briotti said.

      "Of course not. And so I will issue your permit."

      "Thank you, Mr. Secretary," Dr. Okola СКАЧАТЬ