Adventure Magazine Cover — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

They Always Run True to Form and kicked—kicked at Frank’s gray-locked head, and cursed with wheezing breath. And Frank lay still. The panting Rodney’s arm wiped once across his face; came down; went up again. Dizzily, dazedly, almost unconsciously, the bleeding man reeled back—tottered and staggered to the bush—dipped into the bush and, staggering, crept away. A joyfully moving dragon-fly sailed out across. the marshy water-hole—sailed out, sailed back again—sailed out on wings, which moving yet were still, on wings which could reverse. Weakly the aged lioness jcoked up and watched the glinting tail of gold which flashed in passing by. Then watched the sun about to fall. And Cora whimpered—whimpered and chewed upon a folded, tired paw in little all-accusing cries. Why should she be alone in her old age? Where was her pal, and why neglected now? Three long days since she’d last had fresh ~ meat. Three awful days her stomach’d known an aching void. Three days! And Cora whimpered and sucked her paw. A bulFfrog croacked and Cora went to see it. Bull-frogs meant silence, and silence creeping things. A buck perhaps? The dragon-fly passed by; the day was dead. And Cora’s hungry tongue lapped the still water, and let it drop again. And Cora mouthed, and, mouthing, sniveled sand. Then Cora rose. Her right paw shivered—held high above the ground—trembled as she raised her eyes and calmly questioned with her nose. The moving grains of sand stood still beneath her feet, yet Cora heard the sound if one grain moved. And Cora thought—thought loudly— - thought with a stomach urging, driving mad, then came down to a silence deep al- most as death. Her nose: came down, a nervous spoor led off and through the reeds. Sniffing she followed it and wondered what it was. The spoor went dead, then opened up again. And Cora knew. This was a bull eland, too big for her to tackle, too dangerous for her in her old age. And Cora whimpered. A tiny mincing spoor crossed right ahead, 167 a spoor of many things. Her nose went down and answered to her brain. Guinea fowl! Pshaw! Who wanted guinea fowl? Who wanted little birds? Besides, their feathers always jammed the corners of her mouth, and got stuck in her whiskers. Who wanted them? Whimpering she moved away. Once more her nose came down and snorted. _No, that was buffalo. In her strong youth she’d struck down many such beasts, but now—it wouldn’t do. Sadly she left the spoor, yet eagerly tried again. Then her ears cocked, a lifted paw stayed up. And Cora listened. Something uneasy, something big and careless was moving on toward her. Some- thing that crashed and staggered, some- thing that didn’t care. The thing came up, - came past her and made for the water back behind. Three short, quick steps. down. A blood spoor! New blood! — Softly the tongue touched at the spoor, touched it and licked round to find from whence it came. And Cora followed. Staggering, the thing went blindly on, reel- ing and holding wildly to its head. Close alongside, but out of sight, Cora looked up, and looking up she wondered. This’ wasn’t Frank—this thing. Yet was it Frank? No, she was sure—quite sure—that it was not. This was some other one of those she knew as master. Her old nose sniffed, then sniffed and sniffed again. The nose came down and gently touched the blood. And then her stomach called. A frightened shriek rose to the throat, rose and then stuck there dead. And Rod- ney crashed. The broken neck had stayed all sound —stayed it for ever, And Cora, glutted, slept there till break of dawn. Her nose came WITH back to counter Jimmie stood in the store and stared out over the shimmering, blazing sand. For two long months he’d looked across that sand, hoping against hope. A miracle might have happened. Limply Jimmie wiped his soaking, dripping chest. ‘Sweltering!’ he said to the Italian by him. “TI think Pll strip and put pajamas on.” The Italian didn’t answer, but lazily ECOMEGE <S two-legged — (E(@) ,00