e'll need a new Assistant Secretary now," he said
happily. "And we'll ship Mr. Nast back to America as an undesirable
alien. The authorities there will take him into custody."

"Have you found it? Where is the skull?" someone called.

Dr. Okola came running up the driveway, and with him, in immaculate
white linens, was Nangolat!

* * * * *

The group sat in Dr. Okola's office at the museum. Outside, constabulary
troopers were on guard. Inside, a fabulous collection of golden and
silver artifacts, dominated by the golden skull, received the admiring
attention of the Spindrift group, Colonel Rojas, Angel Manotok, and Dr.
Okola, with Nangolat as lecturer.

When he had finished describing the various objects and their uses, the
Ifugao said, "And now, I must explain. I am here because I gave myself
up to Dr. Okola. He, in turn, will hand me to the police. I asked only
that I be permitted to examine the treasures."

Tony Briotti shook his head. "I don't understand. You're intelligent,
well-educated, and well on the road to becoming a scientist. Why did you
do it?"

Nangolat's broad face was sad but composed. "How can I explain? I almost
killed my good friend Angel. I attacked innocent American scientists who
had no evil intentions toward my people. I goaded the young men of
Banaue into war against the wishes of their elders. It is only because
my gods watched over me that I do not have your blood on my hands. But
how can I explain?"

His dark eyes pleaded for understanding. "You cannot know what it is to
an Ifugao or an Igorot. In America you respect your primitives--your
Indians. But here, we are just aborigines--primitive animals, eaters of
dog. We are sneered at and despised. To Americans we are curiosities. We
wear breechcloths and funny hats that we use for pockets."

"Nangolat!" Dr. Okola exclaimed. "I never suspected that you felt like
that. I thought we had always treated you as we did any other student."

"You were the ones who treated me as a man," Nangolat admitted. "You and
Angel. But when I worked with you in tracing down the golden skull and
what it meant to my people, something happened. The more we learned, the
more I resented the attitudes of the others, those who despise the
Ifugao as a dog-eating animal. I believed that in the golden skull we
had the proof that the Ifugaos were better than any of you, that our
civilization was older. I lost my civilization. I forgot