Adventure Magazine, April 10, 1924 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

Ti2 the central acropolis on which were clustered the royal houses of José. Intervening tree- tops blocked all view of the fight raging there, but at that point rose a haze of blue smoke, and from there rolled the infernal noise of combat. The head-hunters had penetrated to the heart of José’s kingdom. Whether they had yet captured it was not clear. McKay flung a quick look up and down; nodded, and strode down the path. A couple of rods below, he turned abruptly aside into a branch trail which angled up- ward again. It was the route usually fol- lowed by the guards in climbing to their posts of vigil. Up this surged the captain and his comrades, to halt at the top of the cliffs. There, where the watchers of the cafion had made their last stand, lay their jumbled bones, headless and picked bare by vultures. But the newcomers bestowed only a fleeting glance on this grim débris of the Huambiza foray. Their eyes went ranging out across the gulf to the focal point of the present mélée. As if to aid them, a gusty breeze went swooping across the bowl, shoving the smoke-haze aside and giving the observers a clear glimpse of the central rock. Its top was alive with tiny active figures, fighting against enemies down below. But whether those enemies ‘were Huambizas or Suma- taras--whether the White Ones still held their eyrie or the head-hunters had scaled it and were now holding off the avenging force ef José—could not be told at this distance. The one thing certain was that much gun-fighting was going on in the enshrouding forest at its base. “Looks to me as if the Huambizas were still down below,” judged McKay, ‘and José had caught them from behind. If he can herd them between his men and the rock and keep them there, he’s got them. Otherwise it’ll be a long fight. Well, let’s go.” With a final look to their guns and a loosening of pistols and machetes, they started downward at a plunging lope. After them, forgotten, still trailed Nuné—but not the same Nuné who had gone up the path. Once more she had donned her robe, and in her right hand was gripped the gold cross of the mad Padre. At last she had caught the name ‘“‘Huambizas,” which made the furious haste of the past few days suddenly clear to her. As suddenly, the jungle nymph had been transformed into the Adventure priestess of Paitzo, and she now was going into battle as coolly as the veteran fighters whem she followed. In long leaps the Northerners descended the zigzag track, outdistancing the girl. On the lower level they ran ahead without caution, following the path by which they had first come in, until they passed the stockade wherein the Jivero women had been confined. The trampled condition of that path showed that both the invaders and the pursuers had traveled it before them; and the absence of dead or wounded men proved that the Huambizas had all been concentrated at the central rock when the Sumatara warriors arrived. In their eagerness to storm that stronghold and their ignorance of the fact that their foes were behind and not before them, the savages from the Morona had neglected all precau- tions against attack from the rear. Now the gun-fire was dying out and the fiendish yelling of the combatants came more clearly. Either the ammunition was running low or the opponents had come to the stabbing, throttling, rending hand-to- hand stage of the fight. At the entrance to a by-path McKay halted again, and the three listened to the uproar beyond, gauging the strength of the battle by its noise. The worst of it seemed to be just ahead. “Rod!” yelled Knowlton, flashing a glance along the by-path. “Down here! Take ’em on the flank! This path curves around— remember it? Brings us out among rocks under the clifi—good cover.” The tall Scot nodded and his lips moved, but his words were lost. The nod was enough. The blond man and the red one double-timed down the narrow way, McKay following. As Knowlton said, the detour led around to the base of the beleaguered mesa, crossing the cleared space and then entering a rubble of boulders. Along its course were several habitations, all of which now were deserted, so far as the three runners could observe. It was not until they had reached the clear- ing that they sighted any life. Then they found both life and death in plenty: ane THE space immediately before them, oN between trees and stones, wasempty. é' But only a few rods farther away, at the left, was the edge of a seething maelstrom of battle. Whatever formations might have been held at first—if, indeed, there had ever GO DOO ANUG S C© S|