Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

I20 the blood from three or four trivial cuts freezing on his head and shoulders. “Yes,” I groaned, “but ’tis naught.” “There was treachery,” he said. “They knew we were coming, and they lost many men so that they might take us alive.” ss ‘All our warriors—”’ I faltered. He turned his head to the left; and, fol- lowing his gaze, I saw that I was on the right of a line of recumbent figures, which my dizziness would not permit me to count. “No, not all, I think,” Ta-wan-ne-ars answered after a moment. “Five are slain and fourteen others lie here. But I do not see the Otter.” He addressed the warrior next to him, but none of our fellow-prisoners could account for the Otter. “The Otter suspected something wrong,” I said. ‘“’Twas he who answered the owl’s call.” “Tt may be he escaped,” replied Ta- wan-ne-ars. “I must warn our brothers to say naught of him. If the keepers do not suspect, they may believe they have all of us safe in their net.” He whispered his warning to the man beside him, and it was passed down the line. “Your head is much swollen, brother,” he said, rolling over again so as to face me. “Let Ta-wan-ne-ars make shift to bathe it with snow.” , A shadow fell athwart us as we lay and a mocking voice replied for me: “By all means, most excellent Iroquois. I trust you will nurse our valuable captive back to full strength and health.” I struggled to a sitting position, for I liked not to lie at de Veulle’s feet, however much I might be at his mercy. ‘So you walked into the spider’s web,” he continued, standing betwixt me and the firelight which ruddied his sinful face. ““A woman’s plea—and -you threw caution to the winds! You fool! I used to value you as an enemy, but ’tis tame work fighting against a man who thinks I keep so easy a watch as to permit our beautiful friend to come and go as she lists,”’ “The letter was a bait?” I exclaimed incredulously. “For you—yes. I say again—you fool! Baptiste took the letter to Murray, and Murray read it to me. It could not have been ‘contrived more skilfully to suit our plans.” Adventure ’Twas ridiculous, no doubt, but L was easier in my heart for assurance that Mar- jory had not known her appeal was used as a lure. It enabled me to maintain a stoicism of demeanor I did not feel. “Well, ’twas kind of you to make such haste,” he went on, sneering down at me. ‘You will be in time for the wedding after all. Oh, never fear; you shall be permitted to live that long. We have plenty of meat in this bag to supply diversion for our savages in the mean time. “You, my friend, and the noble Iroquois here—”’ he kicked Ta-wan-ne-ars viciously —‘‘shall be kept for the last. Who knows? We may have a new Mistress of the False Faces then. We are not pleased with the present one. There was somewhat un- commonly odd about the circumstances of your escape—although ’tis true I had the little wildcat in my arms at the-time—and it would add to the aroma of the mystery to have a white Mistress for a change. Aye, that is an idea worth considering.” He switched suddenly into the Seneca vernacular. “Are you all here, Iroquois dogs?” he demanded curtly. ‘The scouts reported twenty warriors.” ‘‘All are here, French mongrel,” returned Ta-wan-ne-ars pleasantly. De Veulle kicked him. “Keep that for the torture-stake,”’ he advised. ‘‘We have five corpses and four- teen warriors and vourself. That is all?”’ “All,” reiterated Ta-wan-ne-ars. De Veulle passed along the line, cross- questioning each prisoner to an accom- paniment of kicks and threats. All told the same story. Next to success in battle nothing pleased an Iroquois more than the opportunity to exhibit indifference to tor- ture. De Veulle seemed satisfied. The mistake he made was in failing to under- stand that the scouts had not counted Ta-wan-ne-ars, a chief, asa warrior. He returned to my side, and summoned a host of masked figures from the surrounding - shadows. They jerked us to our feet, stamped out the fire and escorted us over the trampled, bloody snow where we had fought, through the gloomy aisles of the Evil Wood and into the irregular streets of La Vierge du Bois. | The dawn was a mere hint of pink in the eastern sky, but the Cahnuagas and their COnmiclbooks Cc C©