Adventure Magazine Cover — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

. . sides... The Grand Cham the pick of the host—was to be kept in its tents by the town. The councilors, hearing this, wondered whether ceaseless conquests had not af- fected the mind of Bayezid. But the leaders of the Mamelukes and Janisseries smiled, saying that they were invincible and—some beasts to be slain must be first trapped. Michael Bearn, sitting among the cy- presses on the farther bank of the lake where there were no guards, watched the. feast of Bayezid until dawn reddened the sky across the river and the call of the muezzin floated over the roofs of Angora. He was studying again the brilliant assemblage of grandees that he had seen at times from a distance during his captivi- ty. He noticed the councilors start up from their cushions. By the fading light of the torches he could see them staring up at the sky. Almost at the same time he heard a sound —a shrill cry that was more like a scream. It rose from one side of the miniature lake, swelled, and dwindled swiftly. Michael knew the cry of herons and water- fowl. This was different. It was more like the scream of a horse in pain. Yet it had sounded a hundred feet above the kiosk. A shout reached his ears from the kiosk, a bow-shot away. “The warning of Tamerlane!” Guards were running here and there about the lake. Torches advanced along the shore toward him from the palace. It was no time to sit wondering about the source of the queer sound in the air. Broad day- light would be upon him in a moment. Cautiously Michael began to crawl through the willow-thickets of the lakeside, toward a gully by which he had gained his point of vantage. ‘The light was strong enough for him to see his way. He stumbled over something projecting from the ground and found that it was an arrow. With some difficulty he pulled it out, for his curiosity had been aroused by its weight. Instead of a point, ‘the shaft terminated in a hollow steel cylinder, perforated in the Michael weighed it in his hand and chuckled. Such an artow as this, sent from a powerful bow, would emit a loud whistling sound when passing through the air. In fact it had been the passage of this shaft that he had just heard. 161 The arrow was plainly of Tatar make and . Michael guessed that some man of Tamer- . lane’s, hidden in the rushes across the lake, had sent it as a warning to Bayezid. He thrust the ‘shaft under his cloak, and, hearing footsteps approaching, made his way down the gully. For several days thereafter Michael was very busy. He frequented the bazaar, heard the news of the preparation for the sultan’s hunt, and out on the plain of An- gora behind the town saw regiments of Janisseries drilling constantly. And he noticed another head on the Angora gate-posts—an old Tatar fisherman who had been seen more than once dragging his nets in the river. Under the head a large bow had been placed. Michael guessed that the man who had fired the whistling arrow would not report his feat to Tamerlane. He heard great amirs say openly in the town that Bayezid was drunk with power and with wine. Litters of Moslem women and captives from Georgia and Greece were passing constantly through the streets. - The finest cavalry of the sultan was en- camped a league behind the town, apart from fhe rest of the army. Angora was continually a-throng with merrymakers, as if the fast of Ramazan had just been broken. Knowing the inexorable discipline of the Ottoman army and the merciless cunning of Bayezid, Michael doubted the evidence of his senses. This was no idle laxity or sport such as the Thunderbolt was ac- customed to use in pleasuring his men. Even when Tatar horsemen were seen, swooping about the plain across the river, there was no sign of any preparation made to meet ‘Tamerlane. But when Michael made his way down to the river-bank one cloudy night, he found the boats that were drawn up on shore filled with men, and out in the center of the Khabur he could discern the black bulk of guard ships moving back and forth. “Bayezid waits!’ He laughed silently. “Aye, and thus he waited at Nicopolis! I begin to see the answer to the riddle. And now, for a visit to the sentry post that wel- comed me at the jetty. Grant the same two Janisseries be on watch; the hour is the same.”’ Dawn revealed two unexpected things to the officers of the Janisseries who com- manded the guard at the river-front. Ona Eomichbooks7co