Adventure Magazine Cover, October 10, 1921 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

The Doom Trail A slip of paper fluttered to the ground. I picked it up. The writing was in brown ink, faded by dampness, but fully legible— a bold, flowing script. It ran: I’rom One who shal bee Namelesse, a Gentle- man of goode Estate and Name, who is now Under a Cloude but will Yette recover fromme ‘y® slings and Arrowes of Outrageous fortune.’ Take this so Mistress Ormerod maye not bee Portionlesse. ‘There is More where this came from. “Vll wager there is,” pronounced the governor. ‘Master Murray hath turned pirate. I would I had that tarry breeks who scurried hence, and we might screw some information from him. But New York town is a favorite haunt of his breed, and he will disappear without trouble.” “What shall I dd with it?” I asked in bewilderment. Ta-wan-ne-ars and Peter joined in the governor’s hearty roar of amusement. “Why, even accept it,’”? quoth Master Burnet. “The villain has tricked you so you can do naught else. ’Tis an extraor- dinary rogue.” So I pocketed the gems, and we walked out upon the wharf where the sloop Rzver Queene lay with her moorings slack. “Tumble aboard, my masters,” shouted the captain. ‘“There’s a fair breeze and the tide is ebbing.” : ‘““Good-by,” said Ta-wan-ne-ars. ‘‘Ga-en- gwa-ra-go and O-te-ti-an-i will be always in the thoughts of Ta-wan-ne-ars.”’ ‘“‘Goodt-by,”” mumbled Corlaer. “Good-by for a while,” retorted the governor. ‘We shall be ready to welcome you with rejoicing when you return with a brave tale to tell us.” 135 gesture of greeting and farewell. Ta-wan- ne-ars answered in kind, motionless as a bronze statute against the dirty gray ex- panse of the sail. The sloop dropped her moorings and glided out into the current. In ten minutes Peter’s face was a broad white blotch at the foot of the mast and ‘Ta-wan-ne-ars was a darker blur beside him. They sailed on into the eye of the setting sun. “°Tis the very spirit of this land, Orme- rod,” observed Master Burnet as we watched. “Having finished one adven- ture, they seek a fresh trial of their resource and daring. Ah, well, ’tis for you and me to take their precept and strive to sharpen our wits upon some homely adventures of our own. All of us may not seek the Land of Lost Souls, but each of us may find a worth-while task upon his doorstep.” EPILOG JKROW down your heads, O my Readers! He-no, the Thunderer, and Ga-oh, the Old Man of the Winds, are filling the air with confusion. Our Council-Fire is dying. The smoke has drifted away. Ha-wen-ne-yu has shut his ears. The doors to Yesterday are closing. We will dance the O-ke-wa, the Dance for the Dead, for what was has passed. It is no more. Only the memory of the wise and the brave remains. Not even the Falling Waters of Jagara can sweep away the names of To-do-da-ho and the Shining Ones of the Great League. They have been honored by Ha-wen-ne-yu. They sit at his side in the Halls of Ho-no-che-no- keh. The Good Spirits laugh and chant their praises as they show the scalps they have taken and recount the tribes they conquered. The De-o-ha- ko, the Three Sisters, our Supporters, are their handmaidens. They flourish in the Hereafter like the Pine-Tree on earth. Remember them, O my Readers! Founders! Remember the iT Sa . Remember the Long House they built! he . on by,” I called, and my voice Remember the warriors of the Eight Clans! CHOKE. : i - For what you are you owe to them. I raised my right arm in the Iroquois Na-ho! THE END This is our first month under the new three-times-a-month plan. The next issue appears September 20th; the third on September 30th LOOOLK C@