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Pulp Fiction, 1922 · page 74 of 204

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Adventure Magazine Cover — page 74: Pulp Fiction, 1922

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64 His comrades broke, and the Christians charged over him after the fugitives. Then he had hobbled toward the teocalla. “There was no use in staying,” he shiv- ered, “for who can fight the gods?” The promoter and the girl each gave a shoulder to the wounded warrior and they set off toward the lake. Presently they found the jungle was full of refugees. Doz- ens of persons, some to the right, some to the left, overtook and passed them. It seemed all Motobatl was converging upon the teocalla. All were fearstruck. Each party avoided all others as if fearful. of enemies everywhere. When the promoter reached the lake, he saw scores of boats paddling-in toward the temple from the north. The flying craft were silhouetted in black against the red reflections in the water. The promoter found Nunes’ bolsa with the queer top to it. It suddenly struck him ‘that Birdsong had planned an attack by water, too, and the top to the bolsa was meant as a sort of armor. Lassiter put the soldier and the women in this little battle- ship of reeds and joined the flying flotilla for the last two miles. Every boat pulled for the great piazza with a sort of silent - desperation. Out of the whole throng flying temple- ward, not a sound was heard save the dip of oars. In the north the fires multiplied and spread. Here and there tips of flame leaped above the northern horizon flinging up volumes of smoke, red of bottom and black of top. Toward the east, the great facade caught the crimson light. In the piazza swarmed crowds of fugitives; their continual drone came over the water, punctuated now and then with a cry, or by the sound of sobbing. Along the strip of sand in front of the great piazza Lassiter saw three or four men running to and fro, meeting every boat- load of fugitives that came ashore. When the promoter’s bols@ drew to the sand, a little hunchback splashed into the water to pull the craft ashore, at the same time calling shrilly: “‘Sevor Lassiter, Gogoma wants to speak to you, if you will have the kindness. He has sent runners for you everywhere——”’ Lassiter recognized Quiz-Quiz. Lassiter _ agreed, got his crowd ashore, and the four with their guide set out across the piazza. Adventure Along a center line of the pavement stood a regiment of men in marching order. Their spears and the color of their featherwork shields gleamed dully in the crimson light. They formed a strange picture, and as Lassiter started for the teocalla, these men marched away toward the west. Quiz-Quiz watched the soldiers go. ‘‘That is our second army,” he said. “The first has been cut to pieces. Nobody can stand before men with thunder in their hands.”’ As the army marched away, the murmur of the fugitives fell to silence. Here and there a woman shrieked and clung to one of the warriors. During the interlude, from far across the lake came the faint staccato of Nunes’ automatic. mM QUIZ-QUIZ led the way to the Mi northern side entrance. Lassiter sammy entered a hallway cut through solid stone and lighted by several tapers sus- pended in bowls of oil. The ceiling itself was so high it was lost in gloom. Here and there, in the long corridor, a priest moved about on some obscure errand. The moment the great shutters clanged shut after the promoter the tumult of the piazza was muffled to a whisper. Quiz- Quiz directed Tilita and old Prymoxl to a stone bench carved into the side of the passage; then he conducted Lassiter for- ward and left the women sitting in the dim light, oppressed by the peculiar desolation of a vast public building. Off each side of the hallway gave doors. One of these the hunchback opened and bowed Lassiter into a sort of audience chamber. At one end of the chamber spread a tapestry of featherwork, rising to a frieze of dull yellow metal. All the color was sub- dued in the light of some dozen tapers, but Lassiter could imagine how vivid would be the sheen by day. On a dais, against this background, over- flowing a huge chair, sat the naked, yellow bulk of Gogoma. The priest and his sur- roundings produced such a rich decorative effect that into Lassiter’s mind came the immobile figure of the woman. He became dubious, after all, whether it were not sculp- ture. That piece of art could not be beyond the hand that lifted Gogoma’s saffron bulk into such a decorative ensemble. The air of the cavern was neither close nor stuffy, although it held the chill of all MICLOOOK (©