Adventure Magazine Cover — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

The Witch of Aleppo Cossack coat he wore a flowing kkalat, with a velvet vest, heavily sewn with silver ornaments. His yellow boots were high and good—the heels painted red. “What bird is this?’ demanded the sotntk. “°Tis Balaban, Captain Balaban, the Levantine,” a voice made response. Whether Levantine, or man from Bar- bary, no one knew or cared; it was known that he had once been aboard the Barbary corsairs, and had gone into the service of the Turks for a while, until he had fled the galleys, and, professing Christianity, had been received into the asylum of the Siech. He it was who had knifed a Cossack, and he had done it expertly. “Aye,” his voice rang out shrilly for such a powerful man, “ ’tis Captain Balaban, at your service, my kunaks. Do you wish entertainment—then I will give it!” “As the fiend sired you, that you will, Hands seized him and voices cried out for the other prisoner, who had struck the priest. This was a man as broad as Balaban was tall, a man of swarthy face, who rolled for- ward as if treadmg the moving deck of a ship. His tiny black eyes flickered around, seeking in vain some avenue of escape, but his roaring voice showed that he had a steady nerve. “Aye, sir brothers! Ostrog is present— Ostrog who burned the pagan galley off the Chersonese. What is your will, with Ostrog?”’ ‘That you burn, Ostrog—that you burn!’ Laughter greeted this sally. “You will make a rare candle—after you are tarred. To the tar barrels!”’ So cried those at the outer fringe of the throng. The Barbary captain had been walking slowly about the ring, staring into the bronzed faces, apparently utterly in- different to what was in storeforhim. Ofa sudden his right arm shot out and he ripped from its scabbard the yataghan of a young warrior. With the slender, curved weapon in his hand, he leaped back, to stand against the palisade, his eyes fairly blazing with malig- nant fury. From under his twisted lip flowed such a stream of sheer blasphemy that the nearest Cossacks stood transfixed. Whatever oaths their lips might utter, they were religious at heart. The Levantine 9 knew well how to arouse them to use steel on him and to forget the torture. Ostrog, slower of wit, took advantage of the pause to catch up one of the fragments of the door beams and take his stand beside Balaban. “Cut, slash!’ roared the sotnik finding his tongue. Sabers slithered out of sheaths and the throng surged forward. Balaban fell silent, his blade poised, dangerous as a coiled snake. But between him and the nearest warriors stepped a youth who had pushed through the crowd unheeded. He was bare-headed, and in his shirt-sleeves, and the sotnik, seeing him, spread out both arms and thrust back against the men behind. ‘The ataman, Demid, is here, brothers.”’ THE chief of the Don men waited until a space had been cleared behind | him—waited patiently, his gray eyes studying Balaban. “Back you dogs,” muttered the non-coms within sight of the colonel. “‘Do not tread on his heels—see how his head steams! The sword-slayer has been licking up vodka, with the wounded in the Don barracks. See, he is going to play with Captain Balaban. Stand back, you sow’s ears!” “Father,” Broad Breeches addressed his chief, “shall we drop lassos over their sconces, and truss them up? I have a rope.” Demid paid no attention to the man. His brows, curving down over deep-set eyes, his sharp aquilme nose, his skull shaven, except for the scalp-lock—in the glow of the torches these features did some- what resemble a falcon. Although he had been drinking heavily he did not sway on his feet as he confronted the Levantine. Then Ostrog hurled his timber, at the young Cossack. Demid sank on one knee, bending his head as the heavy club whirled over him, but his eyes did not leave Cap- tain Balaban. His simitar flashed out as the tall man cut down at him with the yataghan. The two blades clashed and Demid par- ried, rising to his feet as he did so. To the onlookers it seemed as i the weapons merged into a flowing stream of light, so swiftly did Balaban, who had determined to sell his life as dearly as possible, press the attack, crouching, his teeth gnashing to- gether. He could use a cutlas well and, oO COMmicloo Sj CO