Adventure Magazine Cover, December 18, 1919 — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

af iy {4 LAR, frin' i 4 aL} FESS oe TOA se net has ' i Bs t ‘ Aa) bd T] Lt - hie ay Lou eat area { * i 4 , 4a 82 almost invariably works by one rule. First comes the desire to run, run and Es little later this too passes. - thick, the heart works overtime. to keep on running no matter what the direction is. Then comes 4 vague feel- ing that all is not right, that everything is unreal and that one is moving in a dream. The breath comes short and It is fright of the most pronounced type. A With Mercedes it lasted long. All day long she urged her jaded horse, for she had not yet experienced that most ___ awful feeling that sooner or later comes to the lost; the feeling that he has taken ae. the wrong direction, when the question is asked— “Am I on the right road ?”’ So far, any direction was right for her so long as it led away from the group of Indians who had captured her. She spent the first night crouched = under a bush, the end of the halter in = her hand. She dared not tie the horse for fear he should break loose and leave her alone in that fearful wilderness. When daylight came, she found herself near a tiny spring that broke from the al ~ + ae. P = aE Ss +” ies ~ sk =~ —“ > . - .. - ed oS r tg ; 7 co. toe < Spee 3 Sgt Sate —_ oo eee = ees = ee r- ee eee * —— — = =x i teste : ST ee OP eae so woe - a ae ges cS ag Cea = ee 5, Mh 5 ee ee os et Ay Re St Oe Oe ie tan — ~ ae 2 Z we = ‘ hillside, that was bare except for occa- sional clumps of ocatilla in full bloom, ~ and two twisted aspen saplings that stood above the spring. She gathered a little of the wire-like bunch grass to give to the horse and _ got a handful of mesquite beans for her- self. The bitter taste made her lips _ pucker, but she had nothing else except a few buds from the prickly-pears that _ grew in the valley. The horse sniffed -at the grass, dropped his nose and turned away. It was the last sign, if she had but known it. The red stallion could tell her no more plainly than that, but she ~ could not-read the sign. Again she mounted and pushed on, and all day long she rode. Unknowingly _ she had again turned to the north and was heading for that bleak, inhospitable barrier of arid land that forms the north- ern belt between Mexico and what is now Arizona. Hundreds of miles wide, it stretches from gulf to gulf. The In- dians and coyotes alone know the water- holes and the trails, and only they can traverse it with safety. No longer did she travel over great a = = ‘mesas sloping down to kindly creek bot- - Adventure toms filled with green cottonwood trees, heralding water; no more wide plains covered with bunch grass; no more hill- pockets studded with bean-bearing mes- quite that would forage her horse. This land that stretched out at her feet spread out in low-lying levels of red earth, from which the hideous sahuara cactus thrust its thorny length into the glare; on which the unsightly prickly-pear and the for- midable looking Spanish bayonet were the only green spots on the earth. Far to the north a great range of saw-toothed, jagged red hills stood up against the turquoise sky. She felt that she must get across those hills as soon as might be, for behind them must be the Spanish settlements with their hope of _ safety. “Come, Aldama.” She started at the sound of her own voice. “One more effort, good horse! . Almost the last———” A great sob rose and almost choked her. She was thirsty and reached for the water-bag that hung on the saddle. It was gone! . Somewhere on the trail, during that hurried ride over hill and dale, the raw- hide thong by which it hung had been snapped, and the bag had dropped un- heeded. There remained on the saddle but a foot of twisted thong. Her heart sank for a moment but she felt sure that shé would again find water. They had never yet made an entirely dry camp. On and on she went, the red horse sinking fetlock deep in the soft sand, his nose at times almost on the blisteringly hot earth. Mercedes, inert in the saddle, swaying - to and fro, nearly overcome with the in- tense heat of the desert, pitched forward and back with every step, till finally Al- dama, his foot turning on a stone, fell sidewise to earth with a little grunt and lay still upon the sand. Mercedes, flung far to the right, . scrambled to her feet and ran to him} raising his head. “Oh, no, no! Aldama! It must not be!” She burst into a fit of sobbing. “T will not have it so! It shall not be!” But it was! Even as she spoke, a gray film passed across the horse’s eyes, like smoke across glass. He raised his head shudderingly and gasped twice, dropped it again and so died. .— (EO) VOO|KS (EO)