Adventure Magazine Cover — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

104 striving to coax some communication from the thick lips. At-last Meekly said: ‘“‘No use trying to plan when we don’t _ know what’s ahead of us! If the gal is here we've got to find out where, and how she is guarded, and do they let her walk round any. One thing’s gure: Something’s going to happen. When we I’arn just what ’tis then we’ve got to do some quick thinking. The Injuns are waiting for something to happen. That’s what makes ’em so quiet and perlite. Old Pontiac ain’t showed his head this morning. Ninivois and Take have twice been to his hut to pow-wow.”’ “They’re all waiting for the scouts to come back. Sleeping Wolf went into the woods before we ate,” said Ballou. . “The Wolf comes back alone,” softly spoke up the Beaver. His small eyes glittered as he watched Sleeping Wolf hurrying to the camp. He suddenly relaxed and lost his interest in the man. The savages barely gave the Wolf a glance as he threaded his way through the different groups and went on to report to Pontiac. And yet there was an air of wait- ing for something to happen at each fire. “They’re up to something. Some —— trick. Never can tell how an Indian will jump,” muttered Ballou. Suddenly there was a stirring and bustling among the warriors; and Ninivois, chief of the Fox tribe, and Take of the Hurons, stalked to the middle of the camp and spread their robes. They were bedecked with all their finery and were freshly painted. Meekly promptly declared: “Old Pontiac is going to open a bag of talk. Didn’t Isay so? There hecomesnow.”’ And Pontiac, followed by Sleeping Wolf, who carried a big robe made of wolf-skins and decorated with the sign of the Otter, left his hut and hurried to where the two chiefs were seating themselves. The war- riors moved forward and quietly formed a half-circle before him. Sleeping Wolf hastened to the white men and said: ‘“‘The Voice of the Three Fires is about to speak. Let the Trade Knife drive his pris- oner inside the half-circle. Let the Seneca come with his medicine. Pontiac has spoken.” “The Trade Knife will be glad to hear the wise words of the great chief,” answered Ballou in a voice that carried to the ears of the swarthy leader. by their leader’s words. Adventure’ He untied the long neck thong from the tree, and with a kick aroused Meekly, and harshly ordered him to march ahead and into the open space in: front of Pontiac. Black Beaver picked up his mask and fol- lowed. Robes were spread for Ballou and the Conestoga. Meekly sat in front of Ballou. Pontiac stared at the three men absent-mindedly while he waited for a suit- able period to elapse. Finally he stood and allowed the blanket to drop around his loins, and his powerful voice began: ‘‘Brothers, the bad flesh still holds on to our land at Detroit and Fort Pitt. The dogs dressed in red must all be killed. The Master of Life has talked to me again in a dream, and if we do as he says there will be no bad flesh west of Montreal and the Moun- tains afteranother moon. We came here to meet Tamaque, of the Leni-lenape. We will ask him to go with usand burn Detroit. Then we will go with him and burn Fort Pitt. “Brothers, we love the French. Our great father across the water has been asleep. Now he is awake. He is sending an army to help us. “Brothers, we will not wait for that army to come. We will show our good father that we can drive out the bad flesh without any white men to help us. Then he will give us many presents and will say we are great warriors.’ He paused and Ballou perceived that the Indians were not enthusiastically impressed Pontiac was quick to sense a radical difference from the recep- tion of his first harangue at Ecorces in the Spring. The first time he had outlined his campaign plans every ax was waved and every bronzed throat was clamoring for the privilege of picking up the war-belt he then threw down. That was back in April. The French king even then was sending an army, the allied tribes had been told. In the three months that had passed practically no Frenchmen, except some breeds, had lifted an ax against the English. Pontiac called on his genius as an orator and in resuming poured forth a torrent of fiery words until the savage audience was unable to resist his eloquence. When he next paused for breath there arose much shouting, and many axes and knives were displayed, and many baleful glances were directed at Meekly, who typed the hated race. DOOLK C@