Adventure Magazine Cover — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

The Temple of the Ten muscle, and it was a moment before he realized the import of this attacking thought. It was an assent, a bidding to be at peace. Under its compellant force Severn reached out and touched the arm of Sir Fandi. “Be ready,” he said quietly. “He is coming.” The Rajput gazed at him in startled won- der, not unmixed with awe. This trans- ference of thought was something outside the cosmos of Sir Fandi; indeed, Severn himself was by no means sure of it. He had spoken on impulse, by intuition: The two men came to their feet, pistol in hand. They did not know what to look for. Indeed, they were prepared for some eery and unearthly demonstration as they watched that unruffled lake where no wind ever touched. Upon them was a strange - sense of awed expectation, of something about to happen beyond the ordinary. Yet, when it came, it was simple. Sir Fandi was first to perceive it and touched the American’sarm. Severn.looked, and from among the rocks to the right saw a rude canoe shoving out into the lake. He marked the spot, and fancied that the craft came from around some projecting corner of the cliff which must mask an opening. A single figure stood erect in the canoe. It was a figure muffled from head to foot in a faded winding of yellow cloths. The canoe and paddle seemed rude and rough. Sir Fandi threw up his automatic, but - Severn checked him, laid finger to lips in a gesture of -silent caution. That singular figure in the canoe was turning the craft toward shore; it seemed perfectly sentient, yet quite unaware that enemies were wait- ing. Severn could perceive no eye-holes in the mask of yellow cloth, and an odd fear came upon him. There was something un- canny in this slow but unfaltering approach, in this blind automaton! Yet he knew the explanation must be simple enough. ‘Fhe two men stared. Tf Esrun had eyes in his head, he could see that they were not his priests but the dreaded white men. Still he swept the canoe in straight for the shore, silent and unswerving. Suddenly Esrun bent down, caught the gunnel, waited. The high bow of the rude craft floated forward and grated upon the shore. The saffron figure straightened, stepped into the water, pulled up the craft. Now, bending above his canoe, Esrun brought into sight a heavy bundle, wrapped 151 in a skin. Staggering with its weight, he dropped this on the shore, then stood erect and made a gesture as if inviting approach. Sir Fandi looked at Severn, but the latter shook his head in negation. For a moment Esrun waited, then turned. Slowly that yellow figure made its way along the shore to the little bed of crocus. There it paused, and put forth a hand to touch the fence of boulders. At this ges- ture a light broke upon Severn; he could barely repress an ejaculation. _Esrun was blind! The Rajput had seen it also. He gave Severn a startled glance of inquiry, and Severn nodded. Esrun knelt and touched the unopened buds of the saffron flowers with brown fingers. Then, together, the two men ran forward. At their approach Esrun came erect, facing toward them inquiringly. They gave . him no chance to. escape; at the first move- ment Severn caught an upflung arm, while Sir Fandi tore away that muffling yellow cloth. Under his hand, Severn felt no at- tempt at escape, no bulge of muscle; the arm in his hands was withered, wooden, horrible to the touch. The yellow cloths were half torn away. Esrun stood there before them half-naked— and the two men took a backward step with horror in their eyes. For the thing which they had captured was a leper, grimacing and leering frightfully toward them—and further, this leprous Esrun was, or had been, a woman! Severn dropped an oath. An old woman, she was, a hag in all truth, ravaged by the fearful disease, and she stood there without attempting to evade them. None the less, the two men knew that in this frightful body dwelt a perilous brain which threatened to engulf them and their comrades unless it were killed. But—a woman! “Do it, Rajput,” said Severn curtly, half- turning away. Sir Fandi flung him a look of wild scorn and fury. “Do it, American!” he snapped back. “The honor of a Rajput is as a sword-blade, arid. I do not choose to sully nine with the blood of a leprous Kashmiri woman! Do it!’ But Severn knew that he could not do it. The unreality of the scene was maddening— this ancient scarred remnant of humanity grimacing at them, the two of them standing CORNICOOOKS (C@