Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

Tides of Hate toward that direction, saw yet another man of Cook’s crew drop, and’ snapped sharply: “Now, Goliath! Give that devilish yell o’ thine and into it. Finish the battle to an end, and rally our own gallant lads on th’ shore.” GOLIATH leaped like a polished black engine of war into the thick == of the fight, and the Cadiz’ men rallied with a deep roar of jubilation. Nell Clark answered his yell, and would have joined him. Her Indians had gripped her, and bore her screaming out of danger, while Davies stepped forward with drawn cutlas to settle the other side-issues. Swan and Cook he meant to prevent killing each other if he could, for he owed Steve Carr something for his loyalty, and the very finest reward he could offer Steve, he knew well, was to bring him face to face with John Cook in a fair field with no favor and no chance.of interruption. He stepped over prone bodies, swept aside men who stood agape at the single combat, noted with a sharp glance that terror had usurped the place of fury in many a face, and drew close to the conflict at a moment when it had taken on a phase which put it beyond his will to stop it. Both men had dropped their knives, yet neither appeared to know it. Swan had sunk his head to Cook’s neck, and above the iron collar the flesh was dragged in a red bulge by gnawing teeth. His face an agonized mask of deadly hate, Cook twisted his own head until he caught Swan’s ear in his own teeth, and there they were, slowly sinking to the turf, snarling very low, breath hissing through bloody foam, undying hatred in each eye. Davies watched them with a feeling that, do what he might, the end could only be put off. These men bore each other a grudge too dire for anything short of death to pay it. He tried to decide which of the two men he most desired to live, but could see no merit in either. Both were men who had counted upon being leaders in the expedi- tion, after the dead Frenchman. As for himself, he had been the last in line of lead- ership, who now was first if - His brief cogitation was halted in start- ling fashion. A seaman from Cook’s band, released from his own encounter by the advent of Goliath and the quick victory of 73 the Cadiz’ men, saw his captain’s plight, and adjusted matters in his own way. With the silent leap of a panther, the seaman swung aloft his cutlas, made it whistle in a fierce down-stroke, and Swan’s skull spilled brains and blood broadcast over John Cook. Davies sprang forward to make an end of the bloody affair, when Swan’s men hurled themselves growling upon Cook. Cook’s lads uttered their yell of defiance, and plunged into the new mélée. Cook was encompassed with foes, staggering on his weary legs, his life-blood pouring from him, yet with eyes ablaze with undying hate for all who came near him in his frenzy of blood. “Back! roared Davies, swinging his cutlas and leaping into the midst of the fighting mob. Goliath was at his heels; Nell Clark, flinging off the Indians, looked to the flnts of two great horse-pistols and screamed for Davies to stand aside to give her dim. From somewhere in the nearest trees came a sound like nothing so much as a bestial human growl. It sounded like something carnivorous intent upon a bone shredded with flesh. But it was unnoticed, except by a few, in the face of the Thing that darted from the jungle with a sobbing shriek, paused a breath while it glared around, then staggered, recovered, braced itself with a tremendous effort, and flung itself upon John Cook, gurgling, smeared with blood, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, to sink the fingers of two hands like the forepaws of a gorilla deep into its victim’s throat. Davies halted abruptly. Nell’s pistols discharged, but the balls flew high and wide, and down from a tree tumbled another figure as uncouth as that Thing, while the forest resounded with a yell of fury from the tree and the glade echoed with the howl of a hundred terror-stricken seamen. Two Indians, a man and a woman, edged nearer to Nell Clark, and upon their faces was an expression of mingled satisfaction and contempt. Davies sprang across the intervening space and seized the Thing that had attacked Cook. Cook sagged limply, and dropped dead on the grass as he was released; and into Davies’ astonished eyes blazed the dying, triumphant eyes of Steve Carr. “ COnmicloool (C@