Adventure Magazine Cover — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

The Web of the Sun It meant millions, ease, luxury— The promoter flung out his arms n a kind of rage at his own helplessness— _ If he could just get one word to New York— He'blew out his breath like a sick man and stood staring at the vast temple with a sagging face.* aa tg ng a PRESENTLY he became aware that some one was walking down the sand behind him. He turned and saw Balthasar Nunes and Tilita leading a young vicuna lamb by a cord. The girl evidently had seen Lassiter’s gesture and heard his groan, for she called in a con- cerned voice— “Primo, what is the matter?” Only after several moments did the pro- moter collect himself sufficiently to reply that it was nothing. Tilita came over to him with sympathy in her eyes and the curve of her lips: “Senor, I see the sunset brings sadness to you also. No doubt you have loved ones --there———* : She glanced toward the setting sun. “TI was thinking—” And then he grew ashamed of the covetousness of his thoughts and added— ‘“‘Are you going to the temple?” “S71, senor.” “T will go with you.” Tilita assented by a movement and turned to Nunes for the leading string of the young vicuna. The Colombian stared, puzzled, at the maneuver. “But, sevorita, I thought you said no man could accompany you to the sacri- fice!”’ Tilita looked at Nunes surprized: “YT said only a kinsman, segzior. He is my primo.” ; “Primo! Primo!” cried Balthazar with an amazed face. ‘‘Why he is not half so 1)? much a primo as I! “But he is! My madre said so!” Nunes turned to the promoter. ““Sefior, you are not going to poach on *As a set-off to Mr. Lassiter’s impressionistic eulogy of the great Motobatl teocalla, the reader should consult Murray’s Guide to Motobail, pp. 167-201; Barrao’s Archi- tectura de los Incas, and Boisson’s L’antiquités de Moto- batl: Greystone Dub. Co., London. The learned Frenchman very justly says, ‘‘While in actual dimensions the work of these last Incans greatly exceeds in magnitude any of the primitives known to man, yet their baroque style can not bé méntioned in the same breath with the restraint and dignity of the rock- cut tombs of Persepolis and Nimrud, or the tomb of Midas at Dogan-Lu.” Mio Dios! 39 my preserves in an affair del corazon on such a pretext as being a primol’’ “My dear fellow,’ said Lassiter in English, and rather amused, “I am doing nothing. I am simply standing here——”’ “Ves, but you permit it!’ snapped the Colombian in the same tongue. “But she wouldn’t have let you go with her anyway,” smiled Lassiter. “You can tell her you are not her primo!” “‘And cause.a sefiorita to lead her goat for herself? Do you think I am so unmanly?’ : Lassiter reached for the leading string, and it was surrendered him. The Colombian whirled on his heel. “Voy, sefor, you insult me before my imamorata—and call yourself mi amigol ' What sort of a friend is it that seizes—that seduces your querida! Car- ramba!” Lassiter preserved a straight face with an effort. ‘‘What are we going to do with this lamb, | prima?” With a faint accent on the “pri ma’’ for Balthasar’s benefit. “Tt is to feed my brothers and sisters, primo.” ‘“‘Oh—the fourteen?” ‘Si, primo,” said the girl solemnly. The fitness of the girl’s faith gave Lassiter a queer but intense satisfaction. It seemed as decorative mentally, as, physically, were the curves of her body or -her fluent step. Nunes and his irritation faded from the promoter’s mind. They followed the sandy beach with the vicuna making little runs past them and being drawn up short by the cord. A small headland of stone broke the swing of the sand and projected out into the lake three or four hundred yards ahead of them. A stony, irregular path led from one of the entrances of the feocalla down to this head- land. This headland seemed to be Tilita’s ob- jective. When, presently, they walked up the little rise, Lassiter saw that it extended two arms out into the water and formed a small stony bay. Stretched over the bay, the New Yorker was sharply surprized to see a kind of fireman’s circular net. The whole inlet of water was not more than twenty-five feet wide. moored to the rocks that formed a rough crescent about the bay. The supporting guys were glued to the stones and converged to a center like the spokes of a wheel. DOO The net was . C©