Adventure Magazine Cover — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

THE great mob of Indians melted away as soon as she left us. They | all but fled in order to reach their Saas before sundown, and so hurried were our guards that in removing us from the stakes to the Council-House in the center of the village they forebore to beat or maltreat us. In the Council-House they supplied us with a liberal meal of meat and vegetables. Then our bonds were replaced and we were covered with robes, whilst our guards cow- ered close to the fire in abject fear. They started at the slightest movement. Had we been able to stir hand or foot I think we might have won our freedom. But they had used care in binding us, and we lay inert as corpses. “What do they fear?’ I whispered to Ta-wan-ne-ars at length, desirous of hearing a friendly voice. He roused himself from the gloom which enwrapped him. “T do not know exactly, brother,”’ he said. “These Cahnuagas are renegades from the Great League. This demon faith of theirs, with its False Faces and their Mistress, is a corruption of some of our ancient be- liefs.”’ “But the Moon Feast they talk about,” I persisted. ‘‘What is that?” “Tt is some invention of their own,” he re- plied. “Perhaps Murray or de Veulle helped them with it. My people know nothing of such things.” Through the bark walls of the house came the weird, minor melody which had at- tended the appearance of the'Mistress of the False Faces, mingled with shrieks, groans, screams and yells. Our guards huddled closer together. They abandoned their weapons and covered their heads with blankets. A drum throbbed near by, and at intervals sounded the wailing chant of the masked priests and the thudding of dancing feet. Once a woman’s voice soared, shrill and sweet, above the bedlam of noises, and Ta- wan-ne-ars’ face was contorted as if rats were gnawing at his vitals. “Vour grief is very great, brother,’ I said. “Tt is,” he answered. _ “Be at ease,” I begged him, “for sure ’tis no fault of yours.” “Of that Ta-wan-ne-ars can not be sure,” he replied somberly. He struggled into a sitting position, rest- "The night crept on toward the dawn. Adventure ing his back against one of the supports of the roof. “Cahnuaga dogs,” he said—and his voice was not the voice of a captive, but of a chief —“what is it that you fear?” The squat chief allowed. his nose to pro- trude from the blanket which completely covered him. “The False Faces dance with the Evil Ones in preparation for the birth of So-a- ka-ga-gwa,”’ he mumbled. ‘They are hungry for human meat.” “Who told you that this was so?” “The False Faces.”’ “But how do you know that it is not a lie?” The chief shook his head vigorously. “Even the white chief Murray stays within doors when the False Faces dance,” he said. ‘‘And the other white dog—de Veulle?” “He is one of them. He was raised up by the Old Mistress when he lived amongst us before. It was he discovered the New Mistress.” ; Ta-wan-ne-ars sank down upon his back again. “You fear shadows,” he said contemptu- ously. But the Cahnuagas were too demoralized to resent his taunts. The uproar outside increased in violence. | Women’s voices, some in dreadful protestation, some in eager ecstacy, joined init. Jt was near, then at a distance} then returning. And occasion- ally that one shrill, sweet voice quelled the saturnalia and was lifted on a note of pagan exultation—only to be drowned in the thrumming of the drums. Our fire dwindléd and was rekindled. The monotony of the noises, the endless repe- tition, deadened the senses, and we slept. When I awakened, ’twas to see the daylight trickling through the smoke-hole in the roof. Ta-wan-ne-ars still slept beside me, the lines of his anguish hewn deep in his face. Our guards lay under their blankets, snoring lustily. The fire was dead. My bones and muscles ached from their confinement. I regarded myself, naked, bruised, scarred, sprawled in this den of savages. A few months ago I had thought myself at the low ebb of my fortunes. The dungeons of the Tower and the headsman had awaited me. Now I faced death by torment in such hor- rid rites as my imagination could not GOmIichbooks (C@