Adventure Magazine Cover — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch ot Aleppo 5 horses with hay. Two horses to a man, and double saddle bags.” A raw-boned oldster, donning a second shirt, looked up with interest. “The forehead to you, ataman! means a long ride: do we go far?” “Far, ‘Broad Breeches.’’”’ The Don war- rior wore, tucked into his boots, a pair of leather pantaloons, wider than’ any other in the camp, as Ayub noticed admiringly. “With Father Demid, good sir?” “With young Demid, and me, dog- brother.”’ ‘‘That means sword strokes.” The veteran seemed satisfied. ‘It may be weshall frolic with the Moslem patrols, eh, sir brother?’ “Tt may be.” Ayub, usually talkative enough, was strangely reticent. ‘Take what you must have for a journey of some moons, but sparingly. Do not saddle the beasts now. ‘There will be drinking before we mount. Togrukh, when your men are equipped report to the ataman, Demid, at the church. = With that he went out of the barracks. Almost as he closed the door, the thirty warriors stood clothed and armed for the road. Taking the first saddle-bags that came to hand they began to ransack the various belongings of the barracks, without thought for the question of ownership. One youth tucked a short balalatka, a guitar, into his sack, along with flint and steel and a costly ikon—a holy picture set in a jeweled frame. Broad Breeches—he of the two shirts— took a plentiful stock of tallow, long nee- dles, a hunting-knife and the best of the woolen leg-wrappings lying about. Tog- rukh surveyed this stock with approval and gathered together a similar one for himself. Tongues were loosened, and the wounded who were to be left behind specu- lated upon the possible destination of the war party. The orderly could not enlighten them, but added that they were to get from the wagon-master a sledge load of tar and a dozen axes. “Boats!” growled the oldest Cossack. ‘‘Hide of ‘a hundred devils! May I roast in a brazen bull if we are not going to build long skiffs.”’ “But, Broad Breeches,’ objected the youngest of the party, “the Dnieper is frozen deep.” “IT can’t help it, ‘Girl Face,’ if Father Dnieper is solid.” That The veteran knotted up the mouth of his sack and selected a lance to his liking. “It must be that we are going upon an ocean,” he added thoughtfully. “How, an ocean? Where is there an ocean near the Siech?”’ ¢ A roar of laughter from the Don men greeted this evidence of ignorance. The veteran, his tall black hat stuck upon one side of his shaven skull, grinned under his mustache. ‘“Eh—eh! His mother’s milk is still wet on his lips, the little swaddled one!” “The little swaddled one!’ echoed Tog- rukh with relish. “Why,” added one of the disabled, offer- ing his pipe to Togrukh, ‘‘all the oceans of the north must be frozen, or some such thing. So as God lives, sir brothers, you are going to the Black Sea, south.” : “Or the White* or the Red,” put in the veteran, moving about nimbly. “Black, White or Red,’ muttered the orderly sullenly, “you will roast in that brazen ox, and the Turks will put your ashes in their gardens, Broad Breeches, before you come back to the Siech. The ataman, Demid, brought down the river from Kudak on two sledges kegs of brandy and vodka. Where there is a great revel before the march,’ he concluded sagely, “few warriors come back from the trail.” | Togrukh, more and more pleased with _events, glanced around to assure himself that the thirty were ready. Confronting the orderly he put his hands on his hips and swelled out his chest. ‘““By the shadow of the cross, our ataman is a falcon, a golden eagle. He soars high— he sees far! Brandy and vodka! What a night thig will be! And you, you goose, said naught of what was important in your orders. Het, brothers—pluck the goose, pluck the goose!’ In spite of the resistance of the scribe’s orderly, he toré the coat from the man, and swung him around to the oldest Cossack, who, waiting alertly, tripped up the mes- senger and jerked off his boots as he strug- gled to rise. Then, jumping about like a gamecock, the experienced Broad Breeches planted his booted foot on the victims but- tock’s and sent him reeling toward the young warrior who ripped off his bag trousers. *The Sea of Mamora. COmiclbook to the CO