Adventure Magazine Cover — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

Pay Gravel Dinsdale only:made sure when he glimpsed two nodding feathers as the warrior’s vanity betrayed him. Dinsdale waited for an op- portunity to shoot. The Indian passed so rapidly from tree to tree that more than once the rifle was sighted.’ Suddenly afraid that Pyrites would come to harm if he delayed longer Dinsdale began descending. Now the savage vanished for a few mo- ments, then suddenly reappeared several rods up the slope. Dinsdale threw up his rifle and the Indian dived between two prostrate trees, whose dead branches effec- tually concealed him. Dinsdale was taken by surprize at the celerity of the fellow’s evasion. Either the motion of the rifle barrel, or the sunlight glinting on it, gave the warning, for Dinsdale was well con- cealed by the bole of the tree. Even now Dinsdale hesitated to give any alarm, for fear the prospector would blunder up the ridge and into a bullet. He peered cautiously from behind the tree and the Indian fired, the heavy bullet smashing the bark three feet too high. Dinsdale re- turned the fire. Pyrites began calling in a loud voice. Dinsdale tried to warn him to keep away. Their words were merely noises because of the distance. Pyrites slowly made for the slope to investigate, crying out repeatedly. Dinsdale could spare him only occasional glances as the man in the deadwood de- manded all his attention. The Indian, in turn, must have feared he was caught in a trap and was about to be attacked on both sides. That he was desperate and ready to force the issue was believed by Dinsdale when two eagle feathers showed in an open- ing between the dead branches. Dinsdale aimed six inches below the feathers and all but pulled the trigger. He straightened his finger and darted his gaze back along the covert, for the feathers were strangely stationary. Pyrites’s voice was now pouring forth articulated. speech. He was demanding, with nervous profanity, to know what it all meant. dale by name, to make sure it was he who was hiding up the ridge. And all the time he was breasting the slope and drawing closer to the hidden Indian. Dinsdale de- tected a slight motion at the farthest end of the ragged barrier and fired. There was a crackling of the dead branches and the threshing about of a wounded man’s body. Again and again he called Dins-_ I2I Fearing a trick, Dinsdale fell back to an- other tree and, as no shot greeted this maneuver, he repeated it and came to a dry gulley. The depression was barely sufh- cient to conceal him, although he bent double. Down he slid and crawled until he could break cover abreast of Pyrites, who stood bewildered. “Keep back, Pyrites! I think I’ve got him, but we’ll take no chances.” But now Pyrites seemed to comprehend the situation and began working more rap- idly up the ridge. | “Come back! Wait!’ yelled Dinsdale as he made after him. _ “No redskin scum can bother my camp,” bawled back Pyrites. “I’ve located where he’s hid up. We'll dig him out.” And he resumed his upward climb. Dinsdale ran after him and because of superior nimbleness managed to catch up with him when within a hundred feet of the natural breastwork. Pyrites was armed with his old cap and ball revolver and seemed indifferent to the danger of routing out the savage. Keeping to shelter when possible Dinsdale angrily berated his com- panion for foolishly exposing himself. ‘‘When you’re panning for color and find there’s rough work to do first then hump yourself and get it over with as quick as possible,” stoutly retorted Pyrites. ‘This red is costing me so many pans of dirt, and time is money.” And he boldly advanced to. the very edge of the fallen timber: Before Dinsdale could take the lead in investigating, Pyrites had parted the branches and was triumphantly shouting, “‘You got him fine!” Dinsdale bent forward and stared in be- tween the two trees. He had expected to find the savage dead, but the man was alive. He was lying on his back, his beady eyes glittering with hate. He was shot through the body and had a piece of wood clutched between his teeth to keep down any betrayal of the pain he must be suf- fering. “You made a pretty good shot, seeing you didn’t have much to shoot at,” said Pyrites admiringly. — “Tt’s horrible!’ muttered Dinsdale. ““Why couldn’t I have done a clean job!”’ “That’s soon mended,” quietly com- forted Pyrites; and shoving forward his revolver he shot the wounded buck through the head. CORMICLOO© (C@