Adventure Magazine Cover — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

The Web of the Sun Jivaros pick up his stallion by the horn of the saddle and lower it a hundred-and-fifty feet into a volcano.” _ Lassiter walked over and ventured to lie down on his stomach and peep over the ledge again. Once more the height made him feel squeamish, but he held his eyes resolutely to their task. To lower a horse to the ledge beneath him, even a derrick would have failed. It would have been necessary to swing the animal inward about fifty feet, land it with precision on a ledge too narrow for a horse’s footing. And after that—what went with the horse? Nobody went down into the abyss with a horse. Yet something had attacked their camp and had escaped down this rope. It had appeared to be a man on horseback. It had used a lariat. If not a human being, then some monster, some devil, some centaur spawned in the Andes came up with ropes, with a swift and inscrutable method of inflicting death—His head ached with this endless, futile reason- ing that went in circles and got nowhere. THE Stendill agent lay on his belly and stared around at the encircling cliffs. They slept in the brilliant sunshine like some vast amphitheater awaiting the first movement of its tragic games. Nunes also appeared to be thinking hard. He tied the loops with a preoccupied air and sat with head tilted to one side, so the smoke of his cigaret would not trail up into his eye, long after the fire had gone out. With the tying of the last loop, he threw away the stub, arose and cleared his throat a trifle self-consciously. “Well, sevores, my mules are dead.” Both Americans looked up at this unnec- essary announcement. “Yes, Brother Nunes?” interrogated Bird- song. why—’”’ he spread his hands and drew down his lips, Latin fashion—‘‘I suppose you have no.further use for me.” Lassiter was discomfited— “Sure we will! We want you to go along. We can easily arrange a new salary basis.” “The harvest is white, Brother Nunes, but the laborers are few.”’ The Colombian did not look at his pro- testing friends, but brushed at a speck on his greasy green velvet jacket— ‘So I suppose—since my mules are dead 27 “IT am a muleteer, Sefior Birdsong, not a priest.” : “But look here,” put in Lassiter, need a cook——”’ “Nor a cook.” “Then somebody to help with the packs.” “T am a muleteer, Sefior Lassiter, not a mule.”’ ‘You are not going to turn back on us, Brother Nunes?” “‘Well—si, Sefior Birdsong.” And after a moment’s hesitation—“It does no good to give away the little books.” “That rests with God, Brother Nunes.” “* Si—certainemente——”’ There came a pause. Nunes stood frown- ing at the deserted tent and the dead mules. ‘There is no way to carry on the books, Sefior Birdsong, without the mules.” “‘We’ll find more mules ahead, God will- ing, Brother Nunes. If we don’t, I’ll carry them pack by pack a hundred yards at a time until I have spread the blessed Word clear into Brazil.” Nunes nodded solemnly. “‘Si—si—I have heard of saints, Sefior Birdsong—the padre has told me of the blessed saints, but—I am a muleteer.”’ “So you will turn back, Brother Nunes? ““My mules are dead, Sefior Birdsong.” The colporteur stood looking at the Col- ombian with his expressionless face. “May the grace of God go with you, Brother Nunes, and may He keep watch over you! Now I’m going down, and I'll ask you to shoot down my packs, one by one, so I can get them off without tearing them.”’ “Sz, senor, with all my heart!’’ Nunes was evidently ashamed of himself, but when the muleteer cut himself off from the expedition, it occurred to Lassiter this was really the most sensible thing to do. The promoter was surprized he had not thought of it himself. So assuming a dip- lomatic manner he began:. | ‘Look here, Birdsong, Nunes hasn’t a bad idea. Why shouldn’t all of us go back to Bujeos, fit out more mules and find a better route through the mountains?” “He that putteth his hand to the plow and turneth back, Brother Lassiter ee “Aw, here now—” the Stendill agent was annoyed at once at this Biblical quotation— “there’s got to be some reason to this thing. We can go back, start over Ie “Brother Lassiter, do you suppose I’d let. ‘we NOOK C©@