Adventure Magazine Cover — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

660 fell back across the oued they carried the square with them. Mohammed Jebbour was there and un- harmed; at least a dozen of the eighty were there, and Dixie Pasha was there. As they splashed into the water he fell and was caught up by two of his men. One of them sobbed deep in his throat. They carried him across the river on their arms. He heard the gurgling of the water and the irregular firing of the French, who had ceased to pursue on the edge of the oued. Above the minaret of the mosque he could see the moon pared down to a fragment of its glorious self, as was he—as were his Spahis. No, they were still there, for they were singing his song as they carried him— the song that had made him a soldier when he was known as the blackest nigger in New Orleans. It sounded something like this: ‘Am sufern landt ah tek mah standt Andt luff am dhoi am Dickshi.” Yes, they were there, and to-morrow, when he was rested, they would smite the Roumi, for the Hadgi was saved; and they would get more guns—and cannon—and he—Sam Ames—would drill them all—all the thousands of Mohammed Jebbour, and their army would sweep But he was very tired and must rest now. So Dixie Pasha closed his eyes. WHEN the square was sucked back in the backwater of the charge the French had fired until they judged the enemy were safe beyond the walls of the town. Then orders rang out sharply, and they ran about seeking their commands, i hey) Adventure and the jumble became an orderly body of troops again. Suddenly they all fell silent, for across the water they could hear the Arabs sing- ing an air that dwindled away amongst the palms and maze of the streets of Bou- Denib. It came faint and hoarse and defiant through the soft desert night. “What a terrible war-song!” said an officer. ‘What soldiers!” said another. “Hark! How the music carries!” said the first. ‘You can hear them singing it yet.” Yes, they were singing it yet, for the fragment of the eighty knew that Dixie Pasha was in Paradise with Allah and Mo- hammed and the bulk of his Spahis, and they were singing /zs song as they carried his body to its tomb. Brea THE following morning at daybreak ‘fe-% a shell torea hole in the minaret of = the mosque, and then another and another. The faithful, their hearts full of fanaticism and greed for spoil, charged forth across the plain where Dixie Pasha and his left-handed eighty had died. The shells burst among them as they huddled together, the machine-guns swept them down like meadow-grass before the scythe, and when thousands of them lay dead and the shells had shattered the town, they submitted themselves. Mohammed Jebbour had disappeared, so they sat down to wait until another holy one might bring the message from Allah and Mohammed to destroy the Nasrani. For the patience and faith of an Arab are endless. GomicbooksEco