Adventure Magazine Cover — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

Ste: frame. confided in me. tent and presently came forth, lugging a basket filled with something heavy. I wanted to see what was in it, but I would not show him that I was curious. He was singing to himself after his strange fashion. He moved with his hands that which was in the basket and put it in the cauldron. I watched him. When he had nearly finished there came a dog that was hungry and whined. Seeing the dog, Sir Weyand threw him a piece of the stuff he was handling. The dog wagged his tail and carried off the stuff. I saw him eat it. This was very strange, so I rose up with- out seeming to be interested and walked toward Sir Weyand, until I could see into the pot. “Billah!’’ I cried, for the stuff was rotting I did not move, for they had not -.. swine’s flesh, which it is defilement for a follower of the prophet to touch. It had been used by Iskander Khan to grease the tents. The Ferang, who knew this, laughed. “Tell me, Abdul Dost,” he smiled, rising from his labor when the pot was nearly full, “is that dog better than you, or are you better than that dog?”’ He was a caphar, one without faith. Those words might well have cost him his life. “Tf I have faith,” I answered him sternly, “T am better than that dog; if I have not faith, he is better than I.” I laid a hand on my sword. “If you wish a quarrel ““Peace!”’ cried the voice of Shirzad Mir behind us. “It is time we mounted.” He was leading a fine gray stallion, and Iskander Khan had Wind-of-the-Hills. Likewise, the Kirghiz gave to us two good - bows and quivers full of arrows—also he brought his own sword from the tent and girded it on Shirzad Mir. What man could do more than Iskander Khan did for us? “The blessing of God go with you, Shirzad Mir,” he said in parting. ‘TI shall stay at this tent, and perhaps 2 “T will come back,” said my lord swiftly. “T will not forget.”’ We watched the bent form of the old man go into the empty tent; then we set spurs to our mounts. The cauldron Sir Weyand had slung on a long pole, one end of which he carried and I the other. Shirzad Mir rode bridle to bridle with him—I following behind. Still they talked together eagerly, He disappeared into the - Adventure like boys with a new sport. Once Sir Weyand looked back at me and grinned. “Tf you are afraid to come, Abdul Dost,” he said, ‘you are free to drop the pole and go.” 3 Before I could think of a fitting answer, he was speaking again with Shirzad Mir. Verily, I was angered. The pole leaped and jumped, and I was forced to watch lest the vile fat should fly out on me, There was.no doubt in my mind that lack of food had unsettled my lord’s brain.~ Why else should we ride at a fast trot through the hot ravines of the hills to the Shyr Pass, where at any moment we might meet a wandering patrol on the watch for us? And why did we carry that accursed pig’s flesh? As for Sir Weyand, my brain was black with anger. I wanted to swing my scimitar against his long sword. Had it not been for the events of that evening, I should have done so. ey we came out of a poplar thicket ~/ on a hill near the caravan track and saw a boy shepherd watching us from his flock. When he recognized Shirzad Mir, the lad put down his bow and dropped to his knees. ““Hazaret salameitl”’ he cried joyfully, in the dialect of his tribe. He had thought Shirzad Mir was dead. My lord questioned him swiftly. The boy told him that the caravan of Said Afzel had not yet passed this point. Our good OUR horses were steaming when fortune still held, yet I was doubtful of what was to come. Shirzad Mir bent over the boy. “Speak, little soldier,” he laughed, ‘Show would you like to shoot an arrow in the service of your lord?”’ | The boy’s eyes brightened and he fingered his bow, being both pleased and shy with the attention paid him. He was a slight, dark-skinned Kirghiz—the same that had visited Iskander Khan’s au/—and the words delighted him. Shirzad Mir honored him by taking him up behind on his horse. My belly yearned for the mutton that we might have cooked and eaten, but my master would not linger. It was midafternoon, and the sun was very hot. We were in the pass now, and once we met a runner coming up the ravine. It was a man of Said Afzel, and when he / Eomichoo cS COl