Adventure Magazine Cover, December 18, 1919 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

140 of the hut of her lover. Then, swinging his ax by the thong, the chief calmly walked, back to his hut, with never a back- watd glance at the pitiable shape he had murdered. “‘___. him!” I whispered, weak and sick. “He is very bad,” grunted the Pillager, his fingers twitching nervously at his girdle in search of the ax he had left beside my gun. Had he found it, I have no doubt but what either the Minnetarees or the Pillager Chippewas would have lost a great warrior... In a minute he had a grip on himself and was stoically saying— “We have the white woman to think about.” So we went on while the curious slowly gathered, while the relatives of the mur- dered woman timidly removed the remains. Nor did I hear a voice raised against the assassin, nor witness a single gesture of rage. The tragedy taught me a world of truth as to the man’s merciless character and unlimited power. He had no more compunction about .taking the woman’s life than he had in killing a buffalo. Then and there I knew Miss Dearness must follow one of two paths were she to escape him; death, or a play upon his super- stitious fears. Superstition, the curse _of _the ages, the mighty barrier to human progress, now became a blessed thing. It was a chink in the armor through which the bloody devil might be reached. The Pillager was in no wise so deeply concerned as to Miss Dearness’ fate as I. He firmly believed the girl’s red hair was a mighty medicine. While eager to do a man’s work in rescuing her, he was upheld by knowing her manzto stood by to help her. Wishing to regain my composure before meeting the girl’s sharp eyes, I turned aside and proposed a walk toward the river. “The village is very still. The killing has frightened them,” I remarked. “Tt seems still, as no dogs and children follow us,” explained the Pillager. OR the first time I. observed we wére left undisturbed. No children swarmed about us with their impish tricks and ama- teur larcenies. No dogs rushed out to mangle us. We had Le Borgne to thank for this much. Even though he murdered a woman, he was invariably hospitable to white men. As we passed the. hut where the two Adventure Assiniboins had died I asked about them, and Flat Mouth said they had been secretly buried in one of the empty corn-cellars. The village as a unit took it for’ granted the Cheyennes had sneaked in and killed them. It was hoped to keep the news of their death from their tribe until Le Borgne could bring about a peace with the Chey- ennes, or call in a large war-party of his old allies, the. Crows. _ “The knife they found by the bodies was a Cheyenne knife,’ gravely added the Pillager. / “T saw you talk with the Cheyenne chief, but I did not see him give you the knife,” I said. “He is a very brave man. His brother is a medicine-man who knows much magic. ‘ When we leave the village for the Red River I will stretch their hair on hoops.”’ “Throw them away!” I urged. “If they should be found we will all be killed.” “T have promised them to the Chey- ennes. A Pillager chief does not keep the hair of dogs, but to throw them away now would show I was afraid. That would spoil my medicine. I will make old Taba- shaw yzrunt when I sing my new. song.”’ The scalps were another danger added to‘our list. Did”the Minnetarees so.much as suspect the Pillager was the slayer there would be no mercy shown him. Even a Sioux was safe if he succeeded in entering the village. him when he started for home was another matter. However, it was useless to argue with the Pillager. As profitable to ask a fanatic to forsake his religion as to expect an Indian to do what he believed would spoil his medicine. “We must get away tonight,” I said. “Le Borgne said something to Caltahcota in the Crow tongue. I could not under- stand it,” mused Flat Mouth, halting and staring toward the river. “What has that to do with our getting away tonight?” “Who knows? My manito? If so he has not told me. Perhaps the Medicine Hair knows. The buffalo. head in Le Borgne’ s hut could tell if our ears could hear.” His words made me uneasy. I pressed him to speak more literally, but he per- sisted in remaining silent. He had strong doubts as to our immediate departure. Le Borgne’s aside to Choke-Cherry, spoken » com choo <S What happened to > OF ge gh ee”. sea com wet ae —— 4» oe CS oe eo oe