Adventure, August 3, 1919 — page 187: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| ‘ Pe Ps * a & oe at the end of the grove.” 2 _ “What! Are they beginning already?” “Not until sunset. My magic is too powerful for any except the anoigted sorcerers or whatever you like to call ’em while the sun is up. ‘Then the crowd comes “with a rush, an’ they start with a song an’ dance act.” . “But—Dukely, d’you think that they’ve already wiped out my camp? That Arab of mine, Ali, will put up a fight if he gets any warning, an’ he’s no slouch.” “God knows! Perhaps they’ll bring him up to see the show an’—or—else they may _ take it into their heads to keep him for the next year’s magician—particularly if he’s a pure-blooded Arab; that is, looks it.” “Um. If he knows, he’ll fight like a wild- ~ eat. Fine chap, Ali, even if he is tiresome sometimes.”’ A smile twitched the doctor’s _ shaggy eyebrows. “I hope they do bring 7 | him along if only to see a carven image get - excited for once. Dear me, how sentimental one becomesin post-mortem contemplation.”’ “Oh, shut up!” exclaimed Dukely sharply. ‘Then, turning away abruptly, “Look here, - Tl toddle along!” As he strode from the hut, the little doctor watched him keenly. “Um,” he remarked sotto voce, ‘‘careless of me—very. Nervesinrags. Still, rather natural. Um. That food and sleep did me good though.” His eyes wandered over _ the ground and alighted on an empty pod of the Tree of Life. He picked it up and sniffed at it again. ‘Queer, familiar odor.” _ He stared reflectively at the glare of sun- shine without. ‘—— if I can recall what it reminds me of. Um.” From without came Warren-Dukely’s voice pitched in the high native chant. | As it ceased, above the recurring buzz of _ flies came the response like a thin streak of troubled sound from a distance. The doctor moved toward the door and saw the bearded white man turn away from the fence to regard the giant tree; he noteda cer- _ tain rigidity in the body and the clenching of the fists. The doctor dodged back swiftly as Warren-Dukely came to the Lm . “Come on, old man!” he shouted a trifle -boisterously. “It’s about an hour to sun- et. Let’s feed, an’ I'll fry some eggs . We can stuff ’em in our pockets e trip tonight.” Averting his eyes, © plumped down into the chair by the dete ~*~, a Sak tow - The Tree of Life . = dl ; ies f i library. “‘An’, by God, we mustn’t forget to stir up the beer before—before the bar opens!” “Certainly,” assented the doctor, “‘an’, talkin’ about bars, there’s another wee droppie left, laddie!”’ “Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Dukely. “Tet’s drink to—to the holy estate of matrimony, by the Lord!” “Um,” reflected the little doctor as he unscrewed the flask, ‘he’s fightin’ it through, but he may collapse on my hands at any moment. Confound it, what does that stuff remind me of?” — IX IN A field of malachite within a | carion of the basalt forest before fei} the domed majesty of the Tree of Life was spread a quivering fan of ebony, whose writhing squirming figures were sheened in the blue flood of the moon. In the center upon a carven stool was draped the girth of the chief, Basayaguru; upon his left squatted his son, Basafingu, and upon his right, a bearded face of ivory and jet, squatted the little doctor beside the immobile carving in turquoise of Ali Mohammed. Before them pranced Yamala, smeared in clay, a frenzied skeleton of chalcedony from whose high-crested head streamed a pennant of red parrot feathers, dancing in the humid air as if in wild pursuit of the glittering snake which was the sacred spear, ~ to the screeching chant and the throb of the drums. Beyond him, beneath the great bough in the blue womb of the tree, was the glimmer of a white body crouching. Around a wriggling group of the six ~* doomed and holy maidens leaped the men _ and shuffled the women, grunting and . squealing to the impulse of the drums, On every side like giant mushrooms stood ey the great calabashes of the beer from which % he who willed could drink his fill. -~ “God,” muttered the doctor, nervously plucking at his beard, ‘‘when is this con- . founded stuff going to work? Idon’teven know what reactions to look for! Alki! How far do you reckon that moonlight is from Mr. Dukely now?” - “Undoubtedly within one foot, Doctor.” The doctor glanced at the clear-cut features which were as cold as rock, and he swore resentfully, wr Rs e T> rd » toh 6 ee es Sit ee em \~ |