Instead of clearing up the mystery, Rick thought, the little they had found had only deepened it. His concern for his missing friends had turned to a deep fear that they might not be found until too late. He was very conscious of the passage of time. Nearly three weeks had elapsed since the scientists had been forcefully taken from the Bagobo village. "Think they were taken away on the boat?" Scotty asked suddenly. Rick turned quickly. Scotty hadn't been napping after all. "We can't be sure, but doesn't it seem likely?" "It does to me. Of course the kidnapers might have carried them into the interior, but I can't imagine anyone carrying prisoners over those jungle trails. Besides, the boat is missing." "There are no roads where they could have been taken by car," Rick agreed. "Lacson will try to find the cars that brought them into Davao, but even if he succeeds, it won't tell us much." He changed the subject. "Who could those men have been? They must have been pretty fierce to frighten the Bagobos. That headman doesn't look like a man who scares easily." "I haven't the glimmer of an idea. Kidnaping two scientists makes no sense at all." "True. But it must have made sense to the kidnapers." Scotty didn't comment further. After a while Rick reached under the seat and drew out Shannon's quiver. He had wrapped it in a plastic bag in which his trousers had been returned by the dry cleaner. The quiver was of soft leather, and made to be slung on the back. It was compartmented for three kinds of arrows. Rick drew one out and saw that it was a blunt type for hunting small game. Next to the blunt ones were razor-sharp broadhead arrows. The third variety was smaller broadheads. There were a dozen of each. On the back of the quiver were two zippered pouches. In the first Rick found four new bowstrings and beeswax for waxing them, plus a small file and a whetstone for keeping the broadheads sharp. In the other compartment were two sets of finger cots, or protectors, and a stiff leather arm guard. He slipped a protector, made like sections of glove fingers, on the first three fingers of his right hand. A size too large, but it would do. The arm guard would be all right when he adjusted it. The bow was in its own special compartment. Rick checked and saw that it was undamaged. It was in two sections, the upper limb made to be fitted into the handle, which was permanently attached to the lower limb. It was an excellent bow, not as heavy as some, but a deadly weapon in the hands of a good shot. It pulled fifty pounds at twenty-eight inches draw. Rick slipped the quiver back under the seat. He planned to carry it when necessary, so that he, too, would be armed. He was a better than average bowman. It was one of the few sports in which he could nearly always beat Scotty, thanks to his own aptitude and Shannon's teaching. He noticed suddenly that the seat belt light had flashed on. He tightened his belt as the plane descended into Cotabato.