Adventure Magazine Cover — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

The Temple of the Ten valley—what would be called a box cafion in the States. That is where the magic lake of singing fishes and purple grass lies, the home of Esrun himself. - “The left fork of the Y, to the left of those central hills ahead, is a defile like this one, but it opens into a series of valleys which support the Darkan tribe. Fandi Singh is now at that defile, I trust, waiting to cut off the caravan. He is to join us at the temple two hours after dark. There will be only the ten priests to fear. They have a num- ber of Mongol women who attend to the housekeeping. We'll handle them easily.” Severn gave his companions a reflective glance. “The whole procedure sounds like a very simple thing, after all.” Kilgore smiled. “Tt would be simple to capture —— if one had a plan of the place! Let’s get some sleep. Guards out, Day?” The latter nodded. “No foragé for the horses, though. They’re in bad shape.” ‘*There’s forage to be had in plenty—at the temple.” Day grinned and settled himself for sleep in the hollows he had dug for hips and shoulder-blades. Severn followed suit and was asleep. almost instantly. When he wakened, it was to hear a low murmur of wonder from the bearded Sikhs, who were one and all staring at the sand- valley before them. Severn sat up and looked at the valley; he remained thus, _ propped up on his hands, staring blankly. There was something—a score of things— moving there, far down the valley. At first glance they looked like water-spouts, some of huge size, some very small. They were, of course, whirlwinds of sand; but the odd thing was that they retained their shape and moved in almost regular lines back and forth. Smiling, Kilgore thrust a pair of field- ‘glasses into the hand of Severn. The latter looked again. Miles away in that clear atmosphere, he saw strange things. Those whirling sands were, in the central portion of the valley, marching in incredible num- bers. As they came and went, Severn saw a black mass disclosed for a moment—the ruin of some uncovered house or palace. It vanished again. He saw great toghrak- trees laid bare, and then disappear. He saw buildings come into shape; one looked like’ the tope of some low-built temple. > | I4I A stalwart Sikh came up and saluted Kilgore. — es ahib, this is the place of whirling sands, of which you told us? Good. Do these sands swallow up men?” “Like flies,’ said Kilgore grimly. “We march by the eastern rim of the valley, risaldar. Jf we have luck we shall get through.” “Wah, Guru!” exclaimed the Sikh. “Then we wet our turbans here.” He gave anorder. The Sikhs sprang into activity, tearing from their long turbans strips of cloth for the noses of men and ani- mals—the leather head-bags had been left with the camels. The wet cloths would substitute. Kilgore turned to Severn. “You see why no Mongols venture into this valley, except at such times as the priests indicate?” Severn. nodded. “‘Wind-currents, atmospheric conditions, heat and altitude,” he said curtly. ““When do we march?” “Now,” answered Day, and shrilled on his whistle. The fifteen set out. There was but one lead-pony, which bore Kilgore’s machine gun. Following the Canadian, they headed diagonally for the eastern edge of the val- ley, where comparatively few of the sand- spouts were dancing. It was wearisome going, for the sands were loose and shifting, so that the animals sank fetlock-deep at each step; Severn per- ceived that they would be most of the day in traversing this ten-mile valley. He had had his fill of this monotonous sand-marching long since. ‘The menace of the whirling pil- lars of sand did not worry him, nor the gusty winds that filled the air with flying particles. He was inured to all this and as he rode on. his thoughts wandered to Kil- gore’s separation of forces. That Kilgore had left his camels and baggage to foHow under guard of Sheng Wu and the Manchu riders, less from choice than from necessity, was plain enough. Yet Sev- ern did not like it. Such men as the Dar- kan priests, who kept in full touch with the outside world by means of their novitiates, might easily have heard of the projected ex- pedition; all magic aside, they might have learned of it through natural sources of in- - formation. A conviction oppressed Severn’s mind that Kilgore had committed a fatal error—but it was not his to speak of it now. cS) Comichboo (GOAL