Adventure Magazine Cover — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

54 wind blew in fitful gusts from the south. “God cursed this land when our Saviour was crucified,” gasped John the Englishman as a handful of sand rattled against his mail. “Vou are too serious, John,” rejoined Sir Gui. The captain of the Turcoples trotted to his master’s side. ‘Ha, Ali, what now?” “The Wells of Sanah are beyond the next sand-hill, lord. You may see the tops of the grove.” Sir Gui followed the pointing finger toward the east where a faint pink streak along the horizon proclaimed the approach of dawn. Etched clear against the skyline was a wide clump of ragged tufts and fronds. “Good!” he exclaimed. “Ali, do you and your bowmen lead the way. The men-at- arms shall be at your heels.” The Turcoples broke into a run in re- sponse to a sibilant command from their captain; the men-at-arms put their heavy horses to a lumbering gallop. Still, there was no sound, except the panting of the men and the heaving of the horses. They passed the crest of the sand-hill, crossed the interval between its base and the outer trees of the grove and were then swallowed up ACRE Sem 208K pa, MARDAN } NAZARETH S % Ned oe JERUSALEM S Ay rrr ry ONE INCH? OO e468 PALESTINE AS IT WAS IN THE DAYS OF MATTEO. MODERN DETAILS, SUCH AS THE SUEZ CANAL, WHICH CONNECTS THE RED SEA WITH THE MEDITERRANEAN, ARE OF COURSE OMITTED. in the foliage. The bowmen spread them- selves in a single long, swaying line; the men-at-arms rode in fours, spears leveled, shields dressed. Adventure No sentinel stood forth to oppose them, and they burst into the open space at the northern end of the grove where tents and shelters were clustered thick around the wells. “Christ and the Sepulcher!”’ shouted Sir Gul, lance in rest. The men-at-arms reechoed the cry. The Turcoples yelped like hungry wolves, and swarmed amongst the unlucky travelers, shooting and hewing with a ferocity which was not diminished by the fact that their victims were of their own race. The cara- van guards, Mameluke mercenaries, gath- ered in groups and fought ineffectually. Whenever they were able to stand off the bowmen, Sir Gui and his men-at-arms tore them asunder. The merchants and traders were butchered as they slept or fled out in- to the desert. The slaves and servants lay supine, heedless of a change of masters. Sir Gui rode hither and thither, supervis- ing the work of securing the loot and direct- ing the fighting. Yet it was John the Eng- lishman who directed his attention to the great prize of the raid. “Dost see the white tent yonder, Gui?” he cried as the lord of Nerak gloated over a bale of muslins the Genoese traders would redeem at its weight in bezants. ‘“‘Where?”’ replied Sir Gui, loath to tear his eyes from their feasting. “On the brink of the farthest well— where the black men are fighting with the Turcoples.”’ Sir Gui looked up, his interest challenged. “T had thought we were finished with these people,” he answered. “By our Lady of Tortosa, let us make an end!” John couched his lance reluctantly, for up to that time they had found none who would meet men in armor; but the black men—they were Nubian eunuchs of gigantic size—faced the charge unflinchingly, and wielded their simitars with deadly skill. Several of the men-at-arms were unhorsed and one was slain. But the armored column broke down the Nubians’ defense, hurled them from their position in front of the tent and left them to be harried by the bowmen who hastened up as the din of combat in- creased. Sir Gui halted at the entrance to the tent. “T am joyous for your vigilance, John,” he said, pointing to an Arab stallion, pawing at its picket-rope beside the canvas door. ‘“‘Here is some traveler of importance, who COIN Clooolkks C@