Adventure Magazine Cover — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

Ins ONLY < . : : \i a y 7, v a ; N ; a¢ ‘ * > t) 7E CAME out from England with at the whale of a reputation. A _ ripper. Egyptian Sor “messes of the air force—that Sphinx of advertisers—had heard of him. ‘Gosport, the premier school of aerobatics, had known him as its star. <And when Gos- port admits to having a star it is safe to concede that he is one. He was; Tunnard was an aerial marvel. And he knewit. = __ That would have been all right; but he insisted that every one else know it. To that end he talked of himself, and of his wonderiul exploits, in season and out of sea- son. It became very tiresome after a time. Therefore, he was sent out to Egypt. But even there too much of a marvel can _ be rather oppressive. The Gosport C. O. remembered his War c ae ; vy nesley Parson With this idea*well fixed in his head he landed in Egypt determined to demonstrate the manner of pilot he was on every possible -occasion. At Abou Kir, on the Mediterranean, he used his reputation to bludgeon the com- -days, and the pale, shining sands of Lybia— ~ where, as he vehemently asserted, it was . Just two degrees hotter than Hades—and as that was the hottest place he could think of he had Tunnard sent there. “The trouble with Tunnard,”’ he com- ‘plained to his adjutant, “‘is that he’s all right in the air—an’ all wrong on the ground. Needs some education in life and good man- - ners. I’m sendin’ him where he’ll get it.” Tunnard had taken it as a compliment, a _logical reward for meritorious service. He looked upon this trip to the East as an aerial joy-ride, a circus, with himself as the brilliant performer. He was a captain, and he had visions of soon putting up the crown of a major. Also, he cherished the “hunch” - that he was being sent out.to take over No, x squadron, anyway. mander into letting him fly direct from there to the spot on the desert then covered by No. X squadron. | Flying by compass alone—and guessing at drift—he did_two hundred and fifty miles into the heart of the Lybian Desert, and dropped his little S.E.5. gently down on the sands ofeNo. X drome. An al- most incredible feat. It was a perfect example of aerial navigation—and marvel- ous luck. — The dun-colored canvas of No. X squad- ron forméd but a speck, and an almost invisible-one, in the limitless sweep of the brass-colored wastes. Few pilots—and not one who knew aught of the East—would * have essayed the attempt. But Tunnard was an derial marvel; and he knew it. On climbing out of his bus the first thing he noticed was that the glare of the sun on the sands was so strong that it was hard for him to keep open his eyes; next, that it seemed as if in some mysterious way he - had suddenly entered a-furnace; and then that his.arrival had made no sensation. Tunnard was surprized—more, he was piqued. People were slouching,about in ‘what looked like trousers cut off above the 79 knees, glistening, oil-stained shirts and enormous sun topees. Every one looked weary—and glum, ‘A group of three squatted beside an old petrol tin, absorbed in the death struggles com fe ~ ~ 9 -—--> ~ eg < 3 ~~ wre = t ee Pe ge. ee ta > . Hy ' T/ \ 5 a oe ARS ste + t) ¢ : aS } ft 4 er: 4 ee’ Be S| \K oe = ¥, : : : Sy P e . T : or > rt ‘ ‘asi ”- *, om } yt by kL By i Piaaae iy to ay i ye aL te 4 vo ; ey tal aay af PS 7th a5! yan. ty Orn ae wie se * ea Wd) ‘ ‘ Rees Pom ah a mM A; ¥ 4 “e OAR nati dk bh yt es > A * . { fi x " he en ise By an (ay Ads * fe! © Cee hh Oe | J Wig + ‘é Aa , yl ag hs i Hs Yes Prue 1 * “t aa t 1 ¢ : ne aS ree u y ee "Oe ee es bi iis i “ip ei: ty bi eas ’ t ay of A + a