Adventure Magazine Cover — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

2 é IIo from the veteran, and, with his rifle across his arm, brought up the rear. This move reanimated the savages, and while refrain- ing from offering Rickards any hurt they renewed their skirmishing and worked in closer. Rickards suddenly seemed to lose all interest in the situation and dropped his clubs to play with the string of wampum. ‘“‘We’ve lost the girl!’ groaned Ballou, as he became convinced the best he and his friends could do was to go down fighting. And the realization that he had failed to succor the maid was a foretaste of the deep- est hell. She would never know why he did not follow up his message with an attempt ‘ at rescue. “God help her!’ he groaned as he pre- pared to open the actual fighting by sending a bullet through the most daring of the savages. And never sounded more heaven-blest speech than the stentorian voice of Pontiac shouting: “Stop! stop! stop!” And in the next moment the over-chief and Ninivois and Take were running along the diameter of the circle to group them- selves about the three threatened men. Bows were slowly lowered. Muskets were dropped to the ground. With his blanket hanging from his hips the heart and brain of the great uprising elevafed both hands and passionately rebuked: “What would my children do? Kill he son of Tamaque and send Tamaque back to the Ohio, or perhaps into the arms of the Saganash? Has an evil spirit touched your heads that you act like this? Have you gone mad like a wolf and only think to run and bite? Back to your kettles before Pontiac forgets you are his children. Your leaders will look after the Trade Knife and his prisoner. And have you dared to offer death to the brave Seneca? The Seneca who has brought you the powerful medicine of the False-faces? Back to your kettles!” Men of the Three Fires, THE reaction left Ballou feeling as limp as a wet rag and sweating from every pore. He marveled at the consummate dissimulation of the man. He now fully understood Pontiac’s scheme. The chief had planned to have Meekly sur- reptitiously tortured and compelled to speak. If the Trade Knife complained to Adventure Tamaque that his rights had been violated then the war-chief of the Ottawas would dis- claim any discourtesy and place the blame on some of his incorrigible young braves. Now that his game was interrupted he was aS an avenging spirit, and his indignation was boundless. And so great was his in- fluence over the savages that none thought to stand forth and in self-defense betray the chief’s participation in the plot. “He’s a funny cuss!” faintly rémarked Meekly. ‘“‘Great is Pontiac!’’ shouted Ballou. This tribute touched the vanity of the war-chief. Whirling about he folded his arms and with rare histrionic ability, half- deceiving himself, he proudly declared: ‘A fire may start in the dry grass of any camp or village. A little fire started here today, but the Voice of the Three Fires has killed it out. Look, Trade Knife, son of Tamaque, chief of the Unalachtigo. The children of the Ottawa are sorry. They have been bad children. Now they are sorry and go back to their kettles. They have heard their father’s voice. Take your prisoner where you will. Take him from fire to fire. You will not find a warrior who will lift his eyes, let alone his knife or ax. For Pontiac has spoken.” “Great is Pontiac. Loud is the Voice of the Three Fires!’ shouted Ballou. He .was so overwhelmed by this sudden whim of Fate that he could almost look upon the great chief as being kin to the gods, surely the equal of any of the red gods. This enthusiastic tribute was of sweet savor to Pontiac, although he was already regretting the upset of his little plan. Yet, at that moment, he was pleased with him- self and lenient in his thoughts toward Ballou. He drew his blanket over his shoul- ders and gravely reminded— “The Trade Knife did not wait in the hut to hear Pontiac’s talk.”’ i “He waited until he heard his prisoner crying for help; the prisoner being tortured by those who had not helped to catch him,” responded Ballou, his usual caution begin- ning to reassert itself. ‘‘He went to listen to Pontiac and found an empty hut. he waited fill his medicine told him the white man was stolen by the Ottawas.”’ “There were dead men waiting to have their bones covered. The Trade Knife - came ahead of time. Sleeping Wolf forgot his talk and did*not give it right. My CoOnniclbooks Yet | C©