Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 124 of 200
Adventure Magazine Cover — page 124: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1922. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
= a nse Weer ri 7 ONTN IG = Ke SL Vie a tp MM . Waly, Woy AA Ade nae a ‘< re 7 Sue = Hee ay M°Gillivray ee Sete Author of ““Gar’s Teeth” SROM behind flowering laurel that reached upward fifteen fi hands to the ears of his horse, =—— Samuel Orcutt stopped for tre- connaisance. Before him lay the sullen Tallapoosa, its murky waters lapping idly at the roots of crimson-leaved swamp-maple. A dry twig crackled behind him, In- stantly the flintlock left the crook of his elbow and flashed to his shoulder, but he did not fire. “It is only I, Sam,” said a youthful voice, and a boy still in his early teens strode out, unmindful of the elder brother’s frown. “Go back to the wagons!’ commanded Orcutt tersely. “But how can I become a~ woodsman then? Riding back with ‘Sister and those colonist ladies——’ His protest petered ont into childish petulance. Orcutt motioned peretaptorily. “Vou have plenty of time, Warren,” he said. ‘When I have -these settlers off my hands I'll make it a point to teach you woodcraft and how to handle firearms. Just now——” The words froze on his lips. A quarter- mile distant through the tangles of white- laden dogwood and red-starred annis his forest eyes had detected movement. A brown patch had passed for an instant across the checkered frame of white and green. Another! Then still another! While Samuel Orcutt sat immobile twenty- five Indians trotted through the brush ‘only a few yards back from the farther shore. Orcutt dismounted. A whispered sen- tence sent his brother scurrying back to the wagon-train with the dreaded order to barri- cade. The Creeks and Choctaws had not been on the war-path when the party left Savannah, yet Orcutt knew the latter’s truce with whites endured only while Pushmataha, their chieftain, obtained none of the white trader’s rum. Besides, from far in the north had come a rumor, uncon- firmed as yet, which Orcutt feared more than all the drunken incompetence of Pushmataha. It was this he wished to investigate as he tied his horse and turned down-stream toward the first eastward loop of the stream. Here, if those redskins were strangers, they would follow the bank. If they were only a hunting-party of Creeks returning to the 118 f GComichboo (E CS ’ ra eel © aro (E@)