Adventure Magazine Cover — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

Enough is Enough Looking ahead, he discovered his partner also riding with a watchful eye on the uphill slopes. He waited patiently for the interrupted song to be resumed, but Mason apparently no longer pined for sweet Adeline, and at length Bradley’s face lit up with an amused grin. “Sky, you old pie-biter, what do you know about that!” he ejaculated aloud. ‘“‘Somethin’s got our little pardner’s goat at last! We sure never did see anythin’ put a muffler on the kid’s singin’ before. did we, you old son-of-a-gun!”’ Skyrocket cocked one ear back at the sound of his master’s voice, and at the con- clusion wiggled the other in silent assent. Late in the afternoon they neared Thun- der River Shoulder. The Shoulder is an out-jutting spur running down to the junc- tion of Thunder River with the White Water. Avalanche tracks, ages old, scar its flanks. The trail across its bald face and around its sharp crest is in places a mere twelve-inch ledge blasted in solid _ granite, with a steep, almost sheer, half- mile pitch to the river from its outer edge. Around the point on the down-river side it zig-zags steeply down to timber-line and the comparative safety of flatter slopes. 'MAA Mey ay Matt Uy My Yee oy, ' i ie olf Wipe pique (Wg ne Mist Yj y Wy SN ne N Le bia ae iss a 7 Jit ae Rk ois lop sant ei jie i i y a 2 Kooten AN i i st h a 4) ° a Wor “ih | If - | ist Sh ‘7 a ‘ ie TSU en vy Die Denne ny ' Me ie i sed Ma et cl Ni! My My Mel Uf “i Summ 1 fl oad ecqqeue’ UUM” = aie aan Me Yu Milly Bradley had always declared the up- river approach to Thunder River Shoulder the most dangerous piece of winter trail in the Cascade Range, and it had been the setting for many a wild tale he had heard told on winter nights around the roaring stoves of snowbcund miners’ cabins. He knew that men and horses had plunged to death down that steep face, and the crags below were strewn with the bones of horses and the wreckage of freight and equipment. Many times on previous trips he had rounded the Shoulder safely, 151 always without mishap—but never under such conditions of snow and weather as prevailed this day. With vague misgivings he watched his partner ride gingerly out on that slide- swept face, and breathed a sigh of relief when at last he saw him nearing the point. His own turn was yet to come, but his fear was only for his friend and the horses, not for himself. ‘“Steve’s made it all right, anyhow,” he breathed thankfully. ES a signal, a rumble echoed on the - heights above. His swift upward glance discovered a slide beginning, which no power on earth could prevent from striking the train. It was not a large slide, but it came with a rush, and there was no time to save the helpless animals in its path. It cut the train just ahead of him, and when it had passed there was a gap in the line where. four luckless horses had been before. Instantly the remainder of the train was in wildest confusion. The two terrified animals to the rear of the slide wheeled and fled by Bradley, back the way they had come, despite his effort to head them; there was scant room, and blind luck alone saved him from being crowded over the edge as they passed. When he had quieted Skyrocket, his next thought was of his partner, and his first swift glance discovered Mason’s peril. He had wheeled his mare to watch the side, AS THOUGH his words had been and the snorting, terrified pack-. animals had bolted and were crowding | upon him, forcing him backward along the trail. He kept his saddle, the mare struggling bravely to maintain her footing. A pack struck her heavily on the shoulder, and mare, rider, and pack-horse went down. Two others piled upon them, and the struggling mass went over the edge, losing its compactness as it went rolling down the steep slope. The rest of the fear-crazed animals went down the trail in a lumber- ing, snow-hindered stampede and vanished around the point of the Shoulder. When Bradley reached the scene of trouble, Mason, unhurt but hatless and plastered with snow, stood beside Blue some twenty yards below the trail, encour- aging the mare’s efforts to extricate herself. MICLOOOK (C@