Sing returned. "No one may see the High Lama," he reported. "He is in the middle of some kind of ceremony that takes a month. But I talked with an important priest. He was friendly. He said he would send one of the lamas to be our guide and to help us find your friend." "Good," Zircon said. "Now, let's have some dinner. I'm famished." The boys echoed his sentiments. It was fully dark before they ended their meal. They were squatting around the fire, sipping coffee and listening to Zircon's description of the Buddhist ritual when one of the bearers suddenly called out. The three Americans and Sing reached for their weapons as a yellow-robed lama shuffled out of the darkness. This, evidently, was their guide. He was of less than medium height, but that was all Rick could tell about him. His loose robe draped around his body and his cowl was pulled up, hiding his face. "Welcome," Zircon boomed. "Sing, speak to him and tell him we are grateful for his coming." Sing spoke to the monk in Chinese. The robed lama stood immobile, just within range of the firelight. The yellow flames made shadows across his cowled figure. Rick felt a little shudder run through him. The quiet figure was somehow weird. Sing shifted to another language, but the lama made no reply. Then, slowly, he brought his hands up level, outstretched toward them. He chanted slowly, his voice muffled under the cowl. Then the chant died and his hands were lowered once more. Sing turned to the group. "I don't know what he said. It's not in a language I understand." He spoke to the apparition. The monk stood motionless. "Wish they'd sent us someone we could talk with," Scotty grumbled. "A lot of use this joker will be!" The monk's cowl turned slowly toward Scotty. The figure moved majestically toward the boy, then the hands lifted again. From under the cowl a sepulchral voice issued. "Could be more use than you think, muttonhead." For an instant there was stunned silence, then Rick and Scotty leaped for the robed figure with yells of delight. Rick hit him high and Scotty hit him low. They held him down and pulled the cowl from him, then pommeled him unmercifully, while Zircon cheered them on. Only when the monk begged for mercy did they let him up. He tossed the robe aside and grinned at them. "Okay," Chahda said. "You win. But it took you plenty time to get here! Why you take so long?" The slim Hindu boy hugged them solemnly, one at a time, and shook hands with Sing. "Now," he announced, "I eat. Got plenty sick of sheep meat, you bet!" Then they were all laughing and talking at once while the cook hastened to prepare a meal. In a few moments Chahda was attacking a high-piled plate and talking between bites. "Good you came now," he said. "I got plenty worry. You find Bradley?" Zircon told him of the meeting in the hotel. Chahda nodded. "Good. I think he show up soon."