Adventure Magazine Cover — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

The Web of senor,” “From over the rim, Lassiter made an upward gesture. The colossus noddedi— ‘“‘A man came over the rim once before, senor; no doubt he was a kinsman of yours.”’ Lassiter was amazed at this deduction and. was about to answer when the giant proceeded in his purring baritone— “He was pale, like you, a kinsman, no doubt is Again Lassiter started to demur, but the purr wandered on: “No doubt he was your kinsman, and that you are now searching for your kins- people here in Motobatl. I am sorry to say, sevor, you will find few of your kins- people left. There is only your kinsman’s great grandson, a great granddaughter, your eighth cousin; his third nephew once crossed, your seventh cousin twice removed; his great niece, Prymoxl, who, poor woman is now heavy and sad with her sixteenth child, and there is Prymoxl’s daughter, Tilita, your seventh prima—if you will follow me, I will show them all to you and allow you to hold long conversations with your kinsfolk. Just follow me.” Here the vast man lifted his voice and called— “Quiz-Quiz!”’ A little hunchbacked Indian came out of a tangle of flowers, where he had evidently been asleep. “Bring my basket.” Then, with a sort of elephantine courtesy he motioned the men to follow him and moved off through the poinsettias into a park of tropical trees. ~ This deluge of genealogy left Lassiter entirely at loss. It was too detailed for a ‘sweeping denial. Then a thought crossed his mind that perhaps there was some covert reason why he would do well to enter this strange place as a kinsman. If they were the Jivaros, being kin might save him from being cooked. He could make nothing at all of it.. Finally, he said tentatively, over the dripping brown shoulder, as a sort of straw to test the wind: “I’m afraid I shan’t have time to see so many kinsmen. Tomorrow, I go on east into Brazil.” The behemoth honored this communica- tion by stopping dead still, making six rotating shuffles and facing the New Yorker. “Go east?” pes senor.” the Sun 33 “Out of Motobatl?” “Into Brazil, sevor.”’ The colossus stood staring at Lassiter out of an impassive face. After several moments he said: “You are indeed a kinsman of that - ancient man who came into Motobatkone- hundred-and-ninety-seven years ago. He too, desired to get out of Motobatl. I have his whole story knotted into a quippus by my great grandfather, Gogoma, whose ' name I have the honor to bear. ”’ Here he made a slight bulbous bow. “My great grandfather gave your great grandfather thirty-three strands from the center of the web of the Sun in order that your great grandfather might lime eagles and fly out of Motobatl. Your great grand- father limed eagles for five years. He was a joyful man during those years, so says the quippus, and when he captured an eagle, he would come to my great grandfather and say, ‘Holy Gogoma, I am a happy mortal, I am another eagle nearer home.’ “In five years he caught twelve. Then he bade my grandfather adieu, took his eagles up to a high cliff and leaped off. But the eagles struggled in different direc- tions, and your grandfather fell and was dashed to pieces. That is why he never returned to his people, and why you are here:”” During this grotesque recital, the modern Gogoma panted heavily ahead, sweating profusely. Whether the whole anecdote were concocted for the occasion or not, Lassiter did not know, but it expressed an alarming state of fact—or fiction. ‘“‘Do you mean, sevor,”’ he asked blankly, “that there is no way out of Motobatl?” “There has not been, sefor,” purred the fat man casually, “‘since the priests carved the temple of the Sun. How warm it is today.” VI Meg IT REQUIRED ten, perhaps twelve, Ga minutes for Gogoma’s information ~ that no man had ever escaped from Motobatl really to register on Lassiter. A sort of shocked questioning formed in the New Yorker’s mind. He felt he had not heard distinctly. ‘“‘No man ever got out?” “Vour kinsman failed, sefor.” ‘“‘And no one else tried?” “No one.” MICLOOOK C©@