Adventure Magazine Cover — page 195: what you’re looking at

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

The Camp-Fire this time he is at the headwaters of the Amazon, according to his desire. But if Walter R. Johnson remembers him and will write him care of this office, Mr. Ben- ton will probably get it sooner or later, for he sits in at our Camp-Fire whenever he’s where he can get to it. Or I can for- ward to the name and address of friend registered for Mr. Benton’s identification card. I omit a small bit of his letter merely because it endorses the idea of a badge for us to wear and that badge has since then been adopted and come into use. Mr. Benton spells it ‘“Oniedoes,” not “Oneidas,” and, as his spelling is O.K. in the remainder of his letter, I’m wondering whether that is the French form or whether I’m all wrong as to Oneidas being the same tribe. ‘I’m no wiseacre on our old Indian tribes, despite a strong interest in them. U.S. S. Roanoke. It has been a good while since I last wrote to you, but, I can not give any account of myself at present, for military reasons, but being a seaman for some years gone, you may be sure ‘‘Fritz’”’ has received my calling-cards since we went into the war. ‘[ HERE’S one thing I can mention, I believe. About three months ago I was caught in one of the most beautiful ninety-mile gales that ever visited these parts, which shook all the tropic fever I ever contracted out of my bones. It turned the tugs to the beach, chased everything in general to shelter and left me to fight it out with a 36-footer. My boots, slicker and one perfectly good pair of wool socks were missing when I reached my ren- dezvous. Sorry I can not give a better description of the incident, but any shipmate that has had experience at sea knows how she is whe: she makes you wish you were a longshoreman instead of a common seafaring man. ND I noticed also a letter from Mr. Walter R. Johnson, whom I believe I met in Quito, Ecuador, and later in Guacayilla, quite a few years ago, and if my memory serves me right, he offered me a comrade’s hand and financial help. Perhaps my looks justified his offer, for at the time my sole possession was a dungarie suit and a suit of serge in the clothing lineg But my most carefully guarded secret was 27 English pounds at that date. Four hours previous to our meeting I was beached from the English tramp Unxion for getting too affectionate with a pinch-bar. I was just barely in my teens then, and I haven’t grown but one inch and gained four or five pounds since, so perhaps Mr. Johnson would still know me if we chanced to meet again, which I hope will be in the near future. I may add that I have passed the expert rifle course since that time, and I long for the war’s end. I crave a trip far up the headwaters of the 181 Amazon and over the borders of Bolivia. After- ward I still expect to return to the States and become a settled “hombre.” to hear from Mr. Johnson, and would appreciate meeting him again very much. I would also like to hear from Mr. Young. So why not give it a trial? I have met many in my years at sea. The most famous of the places I like to go to (when I call there) is Wilcox’s in Colon. I still cast a longing eye and heart in the direction of the San Blas country. And I may say for the interest of all concerned that I am a half#ast of the famous old tribe of: the Oniedoes (as we were called by the French) and now known as part of the “praying Indians’’ of the North Country, and the other half Scot- English. You may easily guess where my roving blood was picked up, and why it still burns.— LEARNY J. BENTON. P. S.—I would be glad to hear from any member of Camp-Fire and will answer any inquiries :that I can within reason.—L. J. B. HIS letter was written November 22, 1918, probably reached me a-month or so later, and has somehow got out of tur1—as often happens—in the mass of goo material waiting to be heard at Camp- Fire. . sorry for the delay, but the letter has Ic-t none of its interest. Ameri- cans serving with the Australians in Egypt and the Holy Land! Of course, but even yet we’re not quite used to the mixing up the war gave this old world and its peoples. Penmanship? What do we care about his penmanship except to be sorry he didn’t come through the war-furnace un- singed? Port Said, Egypt. I have never written to you before, but would like to join the Camp-TIire gatherings. | AM serving under the Australian flag, with the Australian Light Horse, the cavalry that has done the great work in Gallipoli Peninsula, Egypt, Sinai, Palestine and Syria. There are many more Yanks serving here in the Australian forces besides me. We are keeping up the name of the dear old States over here. I have had some great experiences since I left home. I have traveled about the Hawaiian Islands, Society and Cook Islands, the Philippine, Celebes, Borneo islands and knocked about China, Japan, Australia, Ceylon and India. I have seen Gallipoli, all of Egypt, Sinai, Palestine and a good bit of Syria since I have been here. I have had many thrilling adventures in my travels, and was shipwrecked on an uninhabited island in the China Sea for ten days. Now that the war is over, I will return to America. I am a lover of tropical countries, and islands, so I intend to do more traveling about looking for adventure, after spending several months with my old folks at home.—Trooper C. H. DETERT, A, I. F., Egypt. P. S.—Please excuse my penmanship, as my nerves are shattered. But I would be glad | GOmIGbHOOKS. G