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Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 42 of 200

Adventure Magazine Cover — page 42: what you’re looking at

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Adventure Magazine Cover — page 42: Pulp Fiction, 1922

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cs we SARS aug ee cee Oe ee Ne BS ene eR = a ene inten ot Ee we sr RO ene Sena ee Coon ee NES \wemeae FM ne ia * > ~*~ i+ ~ ae A — at — : a nah “= , ee oe > =.- *4 me. OL ~ a re, — Sk ye es ee ee tes > eR Wo Ses St oe aS te ro TREES SS poids Pas A cP" s8.2-- ca aia, FO See eS Lt hela ’y = eee ee Aa prs tee , ee Se, : - “ ae FE i mat st te al ee - = on : < a 2 ee was _— 7 =O % 36 Adventure Then her voice stopped. She stared at the knee-boots and khaki breeches of the man lying beside her. With a bound she was up and leaning over me, looking down into the yellow-bearded face on my knees. “Tom!” she cried. “It is true! He is here—he is alive—but I saw him killed! I saw hi = “You saw him shot down from behind, senhorita,’ Pedro corrected her, “but not killed. Yet he is not as he was, my lady. The bullet killed his sight. He is blind.” “Q-o-oh!”” she breathed, her voice full of pity. “Blind!” “Tt is true,” I nodded, continuing my work on him. ‘And yet, blind as he is, he brought us——”’ Before I could say more, Senhor Tom came to his senses. And then for a few seconds I had my hands very full. He had gone down fighting. He did not yet know his fighting was over. He clutched me, heaved, twisted himself over, and nearly forced me down. But then, as suddenly as he had attacked, he relaxed his hold. “Lourenco!” he muttered. Shoving him- self back, he rested on his knees. His face turned upward to the girl. “Marion!” he cried out. “Yes, Tom, it is I,” she answered. ‘“‘Be careful. The fire is behind you. Give me your hand and let me help. you.” He stared, blinked rapidly several times, ran a hand across his eyes, stared again. Then he laughed out so wildly that for an instant I thought him mad. “T can see!’ he shouted. “TI can see! Lourenco — Marion — Pedro — Indians — fires and hammocks—everything is clear!” And, wild with joy, he slapped my shoul- der so hard he nearly knocked me flat,. jumped up, seized the girl, and kissed her. Almost at once he let her go and stepped back, red to his hair. “‘I—shouldn’t have done that,” he stam- mered. ‘“I—I’m sorry. Pardon me if you can, Mari—Miss Marshall. I’m sort of crazy, I guess.” ‘ She made no answer. She stood motion- less, a little pale, her wide eyes on his flushed face; and on her own face was an expression I could not read. I could not call it anger or sorrow or joy or pain, though it might have been any or all of them together. It was more like the look of a girl awaking to something she had not known before; as if that sudden kiss had dazed her, yet aroused her at the same instant. At length she turned slowly from him and gazed around the matoca as if seeing nothing at all in it. “Where is that pajé?” roared Senhor Tom, glaring around as if seeking some- thing to fight. When we told him, he scowled as blackly as before. Pedro chuckled. “You need not break another neck just because you have kissed a lady,’’ he teased. “And let me advise you, comrade—after kissing a girl, never tell her you are sorry you did it. That is a poor compliment.” “Shut up! You poor fish, you don’t un- derstand——”’ “T understand much better than you do,” was the laughing retort. “But if you must roar, roar at Andirah.”’ But the old chief, with a toothless grin, spoke first. “It is as you said, my son: Tupahn looks for another man to kill. Now he is whole again in truth. His eyes see his womah. Is it not so?” “Tt is so, heramuhm,” answered Pedro. “His sight is clear and his heart has dropped a heavy load. And now for the first time Tupahn looks on the face of Andirah.” At the moment Senhor Tom was not looking at Andirah. His gaze rested on the girl. But, hearing Pedro’s hint, he turned to the chief. “Tupahn gives thanks to Andirah,” he said heartily. ‘“The Bat has proved himself truly the friend of the Storm. Tupahn is sorry that in his blindness he thought Andirah not a friend. Let the Bat now tell his brother how that pajé deceived his chief, and what would have been done with this woman if she had not been saved.” The old chief smiled again, but this time his face held a touch of cruelty. Yet he answered readily enough. “The dog of a priest brought her before me as a man, knowing my eyes were dim. He called her apuyah—man—and none of those who came with her said a word of a woman. He said the captive was com- panion of the man killed, and evil as the dead one. So I gave her to the bat-demon of our tribe. : “Tupahn, we are a peaceful people. We make no war. Though many of the Tucuna nation followed Black Hawk, no man of the Bat went with him. Weare friends to white men. Yet we are free men of the forest, and GEomichbooks (E@)