Adventure Magazine Cover — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

Gentlemen of the North yet they strangely resembled buffaloes. . It was not until a line of them raced parallel to our hiding place that I discovered the cause for my fancy. Each warrior wore on his head a covering of buffalo hide to which were fixed two horns. In some cases this strange head-gear comprised the whole head of the creature, the skull bones having been carefully removed, and the skin worn as a hood. They seemed to be racing about aim- lessly, and I rejoiced to the Pillager— ‘They didn’t see the smoke.” “It was such a tiny smoke they couldn’t,”’ added Miss Dearness. The Pillager’s answer was a silent drama. Without a word he reached over his shoulder and pulled arrows from his quiver. With- out removing his gaze from the swiftly maneuvering horsemen he placed the ar- rows before him in a row, then caught up his bow and drew the cord taut. Miss Dearness glanced at me with a little frown worrying her forehead. “They think we’re here?” I asked Flat Mouth. “They know it,” he tersely responded. To my way of thinking the horsemen were not acting suspiciously. One of them, the leader, whirled a disk of rawhide from the point of his lance and the riders raced to where it fell, jabbing and spearing until one managed to pick it up. He, in turn, carried it triumphantly aloft until hard pressed, when he sent it sailing from him, and again the mad scramble to obtain it. I doubted the Pillager’s bald assertion until I noted that the rawhide was always being sent in our direction. Each rush brought the band closer. Now the chief had the piece of hide and his men were strung out behind him in undulating loops like the letter S greatly prolonged. My eyes were distracted by the constantly shifting loops. Yet the leader, with each maneuver, brought them nearer to the woods _“They’re coming!’’ I softly warned as the first loop suddenly swung far forward so as to line up fully thirty warriors riding abreast with their chief on their left. “Fire the gun and get back to the horses!”’ ordered Flat Mouth, snatching up an arrow. With a terrific shout the whole band came toward us. I fired both barrels into the front rank, and a miss was impossible. 103 Flat Mouth’s bow began to twang, and his’ arrows streamed into the center of the> assault. “Get to the horses!’’ he cried and then raised a war-cry. It was not the Pillager’s yell, but the cry of the Sioux, and faster and faster flew the arrows. I seized the girl’s wrist and urged her to the camp. I had barely slipped the hobbles and gathered up the halter ropes when Flat Mouth came gliding to us, his face exalted with the lust of battle against great odds. Without a word he took his horse and began leading the way along a deer-path that led up- stream. The girl rode behind him, and J, . on foot, brought up the rear. I managed to reload one barrel and, as nothing happened, I halted and charged the other. The way was rough and at every rod we read the signs of much game. Little piles of hair at the foot of trees whose bark was worn smooth showed ‘that the buffaloes penetrated the thickets in con- siderable numbers. Signs of bears were the most plentiful, however. It was a pelt-hunter’s paradise if he could gather the toll without losing his scalp. After an hour of continuous travel the Pillager halted and briefly explained: “They didn’t dare to enter the woods at first, thinking the Sioux were there. My Sioux war-cry and the Sioux arrows fooled them. They'll soon find out their mistake. Their men are creeping in now; soon they’ll see where only two men and a woman camped. Soon they will come fast.” “What shall we do now?” asked Miss Dearness. “Cross the river and strike for the Mandan villages on the Missouri,” was the astounding answer. I gasped aloud in dismay. Leave the post with only foolish Probos on duty, with old Tabashaw having free rein to in- timidate, to bully, and to consume the company’s rum! Run to the Missouri to escape while home was SO near? “Tt must be so,’ growled the chief, guessing my reluctance. way can we save the white woman.” “To the Mandan villages it is, then,” I agreed. “T’m willing to risk turning back,” spoke up Miss Dearness. “Eshkebugecoshe is not willing,” grimly “Only in that Gomichbooks. co af)