Adventure Magazine Cover — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

22 of his own men coming down the upper end of the lane with their mounts at a dead run, their swords at the charge. “Gangway!” cried the Yank, spurring his =< ‘Those two fools will spike the both of us The rifle cracked again and the trooper who fought with the German toppled from his saddle to the ground. His horse reared, swerved, and came down the lane ahead of the two charging men. The Yank crowded his horse as far off the lane as he could and the two horses, stretch- ing over the fallen trooper’s body, swept by so near as to rap his knee with the haunch of the nearest horse. Down the lane they went, and the Yank again swung his horse to watch them. He was surprised to see how far the lane extended. Why the mist was lifting! “Oh my back!” cried the Yank. Here’s where I get action!” A rifle cracked and his horse leaped. The man in the wagon was still practising marks- manship. The Yank clapped spur to rib again and tore down the lane. He rose in his stirrups for a look around. The German wagon-train had been drawn up in three lines and the British at- tack had met it on the flank. There were only a few drivers with the train and many of these had fled at the sudden onset from the mist. The Yank could see men run- ning between the wagons, swords waving in air, and troopers in khaki charging about. The mist was going away like a rising cur- tain. With a rumbling thunderous crash, a wagon tore out of line and departed down the lane at a dead gallop. “Now we're in for it,”’ thought the Yank. “The teams are running away.” Another team left the line and crashed into the wagon in front of it, where the horses speedily melted into a kicking mass. When the Yank arrived opposite the place in the line where the two wagons had been, he swung his horse through the gap, and then discovered the cause of the teams run- ning away. A squad of troopers attacked a wagon. Rip! went their swords through the can- vas top, a man was dragged from the wagon body and sabered, two troopers rode up to the horses and beat them heavily with their swords. The horses reared, bucked, and leaped out of line, where a trooper at their Adventure heads swung them in the right direction and away they went in full career. The wagon swung hard against one in the front rank and the rear wheel on that side melted away. The horses continued on, the other wheel collapsed, the top fell off, kits and boxes fell out, the wagon body came clear of the running gear altogether, and the horses in- creased their pace, dragging only the front axle behind them. “OOroar!” howled the troopers. “‘That’s a poor way to wreck the train,” cried the Yank. ‘‘Why not set the thing alight? Those wagons all bunched up that way will burn to beat the band!” “Righto,” agreed the troopers. “Op down an’ lend a ’and.”’ They all dismounted, the Yank still hold- ing his sword, for he had nowhere else to put it, and into the next wagon they climbed. There was no one in it and it seemed to be filled with officers’ bedding. This they rolled out on to the ground and one of the troopers began to break open some of the valises to see if there was any- thing of value therein. The Yank paused to listen to the sounds of conflict. The racket in this particular part of the battlefield was so loud that he could not tell how the action was going eise- where, although he could still hear the roll- ing of the German guns and the clatter of machine-gun fire in the intervals between the explosions of the larger guns. “Give us a ’and ’ere, Bay!” cried a trooper. “Sprinkle a bit of this petrol about!’ . He held out the bottom of a lamp and the Yank proceeded to cast it here and there on the pile of baggage. Then he bent over and applied a match to a place where a fold in a bundle had held a little pool of oil. There was a rush of feet and a cry. Yank looked up. “Oh my back,” said he, and ducked under a thrusting saber that came so near it knocked his cap off, chin strap and all. A lot of action ensued. It seemed to the Yank that the whole German army had jumped them, all he could see were horses and gray pants with purple stripes, and big men with funny helmets. “Those aren’t helmets,” he thought, as he scuttled under a wagon. ‘‘Those are busbies. These must be hussars.”’ The Go NOOK 1 O)