Adventure Magazine Cover — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

well. 1 EUle.iness ul s . y> ge ee SE i a o~* ¢ BE tee ee ic "ee 4 oP we we a See ees a ee ee 8 5h | 4 si: ' : Ny RN ee 5 a re a Oe aed eet ee a ae — as Foo erie Sas: eT ae tien) ieee er aes aa z= OY ae Seon or oe Af Poi oe — ie ae Soe 3 92 , Adventure pipe and knocked out the heel, and sur- rendered. “T’m not looking for trouble. Dm ready for the middle fork of this creek. We'll make town as soon as possible and without making the eagle scream.” “That’s my notion,” heartily indorsed Scissors. ‘Turning in? Think I'll sit up a while and think things out. I don’t sleep Too many dreams. Some are bad. Price a man pays for being wakan.”’ Nor did Dinsdale rest well that night. He dreamed of Lottie Carl being in the power of Kitty the Schemer, of Mayor Farnum suddenly turning into a savage, of San Juan being killed in a fight. He was up early and wondering what could be the matter with his nerves. He walked some distance from the camp in the hope that exercise would clear away his feeling of de- pression. He found where some one had dug into the marly shale, and, being ignorant of geology, was much surprized to discover fish spines and a coiled cephalopod in the broken formation. He carried his dis- coveries back to camp to display to Scissors. The picture-man was setting out the last of their meat. Finishing his task he explained: “Either Indians, while hunting for a new medicine, or the men with the Seventy-four expedition did it. The expedition quit the hilis along about here, for they visited Bear Butte. We can visit the butte, too, if you care to. It’s only five miles from here and but a short distance beyond the middle fork, where we’re bound for. Won’t take more’n thirty minutes to climb it. From the top we can see all over creation. If Easy and his friends are between us and Deadwood they’ll be suré to have a camp and show a smoke.” As he talked he cut out a picture of the fish spine, the delicacy of the task in no way interfering with the remarkable rapidity of his execution. The conical mass af Mato tipi, rising abruptly from the plains to a height of twelve hundred feet, presented a singular appearance and one that appealed strongly to Dinsdale’s love for the unusual. Already it had a distinct personality for him, an atmosphere resting on legends and the beliefs of the red men. Its prominence as a landmark also in- vited attention, and its aloofness challenged the behalder to investigate it. Its sugar- loaf outline, the regularity of its slopes and the fringe of pines along the topmost ridge made it an ideal mystery place for the aborigine. On being questioned Scissors said it was difficult to climb unless one fol- lowed paths from the northwest or south- - east sides. “Do you want to visit the top?” asked Dinsdale. “Only for the sake of looking for a hostile smoke. If alone I’d want to go, as it was there, at the top of Mato tipi, that I gave the Ogalala Teton the slip. I went with a band to place small rocks in the trees in memory of the dead. I came down the southeast slope in the dark.” “An hour or two won’t make any dif- ference. We'll climb it and have a look around,”’ agreed Dinsdale. Secretly pleased at this decision Scissors brought up the horses and a short ride brought them to the middle fork of the creek. Splashing through the shallow waters Scissors led the way toward the southeast slope. As they advanced the mystery place became even more interest- ing. Dinsdale was surprized to discover he was anticipating pleasure from the trip. Extending half-way down from the top was a scattering of pines and some trailing cedars. The sturdy cactus and sagebrush found their way to the very summit. The numerous and tiny furrows now grew into ravines, converging toward the top and partly filled with loose shingle. The ridges between. these depressions were bare of shingle and promised a footing. Scissors pointed out zigzag lines making to the top and said they were the trails of goats and other wild inhabitants of the butte. He proposed following one of these. THEY dismounted at a stretch of scrub-spruce at the base of the butte and Dinsdale was astounded at the abrupt change in his companion’s deportment. It was as if the influence of Mato tipi, the Grizzly Bear Lodge, had reached down and gripped the picture-man and had stripped him of reason. From his pocket he produced the string of horsemen, cut out at the former camp, and singing in the Teton dialect proceeded to detach the foremost rider-and pin the long strip and the single picture around Dinsdale’s hat. “What the !” sharply demanded Dinsdale, submitting to the decoration be- cause of his surprize. COMMEDOOKXS