Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Ambush dozen canoes swerving in for the landing. ‘“‘And there’s Father Andrews close by the water’s edge!’’ exclaimed Carlisle. “Slow down to a walk and scatter out a little. And we’d better take packs as we go. Load up with anything handy and it where I drop mine.’ Va@sq FROM the spot where the last relay eed had deposited the loads bound west- ward over the Portage they took up bundles and sacks of provisions and, bent under them as if they were regular burden bearers, shuffled down through the crowd of Northwesters on the river bank. Carlisle dropped his pack directly behind the priest, and the others following suit, they all straightened up, stretching their arms in the air, pretending to breathe themselves as they idly watched the incoming brigade. “We're here, Father,”’ Carlisle whispered at Andrews’s back, ‘‘and so is the Free-Trader, I see. Are you going to tell him or shall I?” “T must, Paul,” returned Andrews in a voice of intense gravity. “It may seem strange to you, but neither Wayne nor his daughter must know your real name—yet. You may wonder, but I tell you in all faith it must be so. It is important—more, it is vital to your interests and Wayne’s as well!” “T must be to him a courier? That is, for the present?” “Ves. You believe me when I say it is imperative?” “Of course, Father. You know I have faith in your slightest word.” “All right, let me do the talking. The canoes are almost in.” : The prow of the foremost craft all but grazed the landing, then swung broadside in to it under skilful paddle-strokes. From amidships a man of fifty-five or so, clad in buckskin garments unornamented except for the customary fringes, stepped cleanly out upon the shore. Carlisle, scrutinizing him eagerly, was struck by his great height. Although the Hudson’s Bay Factor himself stood fully six feet, this man topped him by four inches, and the impression of height was intensified by his lanky erectness. Clean-flanked, sloping-shouldered, long- armed, he seemed to poise in the air rather than to stand upon his battered moccasins. His head was bare, and from it the brown hair, luxuriant in spite of his advancing years, ran down in waves and curls almost to his shoulders. His face was darkened by If exposure to a mahogany shade in which the - only high lights that showed were the golden flash of odd-colored eyes, eyes between a fawn and a green hue, and the sheen of the copper-colored mustache which swept down in long heavy curves over the grim mouth. Every inch a frontiersman, Carlisle sensed about him that greatness of spirit which ineffaceably clings te those who have dared the wilderness in all its immensity, all its ruthlessness, all its cruelty, who have dared it and conquered end inevitably in the con- quering brought the depths of their natures to the surface. Even while Carlisle swiftly appraised him, he stooped with agility one hand on the canoe gunwale, the other held toward his daughter to steady her as she disembarked. Out upon the landing she leaped beside him, and although her head scarcely reached to his shoulder Carlisle recognized in her swelling-hipped, full-bosomed figure the erect, agile, supple poise of her father. It showed in the curve and grace of her ankles and calves, encased in elk-skin moc- casins and revealed by the short gray wool canoe skirt she wore. It showed, too, in the straight arms, whose swell of forearm and upper arm but enhanced the direct line of her limbs. But her looks, he knew, she must have inherited fronr her mother. For here was no skin of swarthy shade or mahogany tan. Fair as Northland snows was the face re- vealed as she threw back the veil of mos- quito netting ’round her head. Indeed, so pallid shone her complexion in contrast with her father’s, that it seemed to be wanly bleached, and her hair, yellow, wheaten, and spun-gold all in one—like the mingling hues of birchen leaves in Autumn—seemed, against his brown hanging curls, to be like- wise bleached. But Carlisle was aware that the art of bleaching did not extend north to latitude fifty-four, and besides, the glow and sheen of both skin and hair told that they were natural, as natural as the lake-blue laughing eyes or the spray of crimson which tinged her cheeks at either side of the delicately chiseled nose. “GRANDE PORTAGE at last, father!’’ she exclaimed, laughing so that her red lips parted whimsically, “Tt is good es poutingly over splendid teeth. to get the canoe cramps out!” CORNICLOO S (C@