Adventure Magazine Cover — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

Three Wise Men — Obadiah turned back happily and trot- ted with a surprizingly springy step toward his cabin. “Well, come on—let’s outfit,’ ordered Moore sharply. ‘Hustle!’ Together they hurried along the hot, empty street to make ready for their de- parture. Ten minutes later they appeared, purposefully prodding a single laden burro out of town in the direction of Sandy Spring. Obadiah Higgins, standing impatiently waiting in his own doorway, saw them go. He watched them as they skirted the few shacks at the edge of the town and turned into the little-used trail that led to Sandy Spring. He watched them until they be- came but an-indistinguishable huddle, bob- bing about in the slanting evening sun- light, vanishing momentarily in the choppy gulches only to reappear, a wavering dot, in the white road against the ridges. “They didn’t want me,” murmured Oba- diah without malice. ‘“They didn’t want me to go along.”’ Turning, he picked up the little bundle he had prepared and started out alone, his gaze riveted on the Jackear Mountains, which showed low-lying and purple across the intervening miles of gashed and broken The combined gaze of Moore, Carver and - Spade was also turned upon that purpling heap that rimmed the far horizon. Some- where on the slope of that rugged range lay a tiny, rain-gutted cafion with a blind wall—and a million-dollar prize. Eagerly the three strained their vision toward the distant peaks and prodded the jack pur- posefully. Thirty miles would the beast carry their packs; the remaining distance of almost impassable country each man would carry his own pack and canteen. Ae] THE next morning the great sun See] poked his hot orb over the desert rim and smote them hotly with his first rays. Still they plodded the trail to Sandy Spring. It was an hour later when they reached their goal. Thirty miles they had come. Almost without conversation they unpacked the burro, released him and, in the shade of the mesquite and luxuriant water-weed, they wearily cooked and ate their first meal of the trip and lay down to sleep. Their packs, to be light as possible, permitted of no blankets, so the three deter- minedly scooped hollows in the sand. 47 The sun hung low in the west that even- ing before they resumed their journey. They had rested, eaten, arranged their packs and filled their canteens. Eagerly, each with his burden, they resumed their dificult progress. Each hill-top they reached, every cafion-crest they topped, gave them a glimpse of their goal—the Jackear Peaks, a purple and white phan- tasm far to the southwest. It speeded their steps like the sound of running water to a thirsty man. | Their muscles, unused to heavy work, protested against the pace and each broke into an unhealthy perspiration. With the sweat streaming from them, the setting of the sun was as welcome as a cooling rain. They paused on a barren hog-back to catch the faint breath of air that stirred the sea of heat about them. The country that lay between them and the Jackears spread a gashed and cahfoned maze of gravel hills and precipitous cliffs. The entire hundreds of square miles of watershed sloped to the— southeast, and countless cafions and washes had carved their gulches in the same direc- tion, pouring their periodical rushes of water into the boulder-strewn channel that drained the watershed into the Gila. To reach the Jackears without going completely around the vast watershed, they would necessarily be obliged to cross every one of the myriad gulches. Thus, each time they topped a ridge, it was only to scramble down the opposite slope, then across the canon floor and up the other side. Up and over, across, up and over— constantly. It was like going across a great city with- out using the streets. They would climb up the front of the first row of dwellings, zigzag across the roof-tops, avoiding sky- lights, air-shafts and chimneys; thence slither down the window-ledges and water- pipes at the rear; cross the alleyway only to be confronted by the necessity of climb- ing up the rear of the next row and across the roof-tops and down the fronts into the street. Once across the street, it would be up and over again and again. Well, that was the sort of a situation Moore and his companions were in. Added to their difficulties were the tan- gled growths of mesquite, greasewood and cactus, the loose boulders and hot sands underfoot, coupled with the lack of water and the great abundance of heat. So, with Gomicbooks.co