Adventure Magazine Cover — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

26 his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. He had fired his last shot. The officer laughed, the leading four, not twenty yards away, swept down their lances, and spurred forward. Berrrrraml There was a slow lingering explosion lke a blast in a mine, and before its echo had ceased there was a terrific crash, an erup- tion of sound so termble that the ear- drums could not register its full intensity. It was an explosion that seemed to split the universe. The Yank pitched forward on his face, almost senseless, but still able to realize that he was better where he was than on his feet. The air was fresher on the ground. Hoofs went by, he heard the thud and felt the rush as a horse leaped over him. There were cries, a rapid popping, the crack- ling of the flames swelled louder. Cries of men and screams of horses swelled louder yet. “OW!” shrieked the Yank, and leaped to his feet in agony. A red-hot coal had struck his back. Why, the air was full of them! Another scorched his hand. The Yank tore off his bandoleer, ripped his tunic open, and tearing his arms from the sleeves, wrapped it around his head and over his mouth. He took one last look, located the en- trance to the open space before the new, heavier billows of smoke hid it, saw that the enclosure was covered with what ap- peared to be red hot coals all blazing and smoking prodigiously, and then, muffling his face in his tunic, he began to run toward the entrance. He collided with a running man, and in seeking to escape, fell over a horse’s body. Up again, though he had a nasty burn on his leg, where he had struck against one of those flaming coals, and covering his nose and mouth, he started once more. He wondered what had become of the uhlans. Only a few had entered the circle of smoke and the explosion had either stampeded or killed them all. The rest must have retreated. Where was the officer? The Yank’s smarting eyes discovered a man groping toward him, arms outstretched. He knew who it was by intuition, even be- fore he could be sure. It was the gorgeous hussar. He was gasping and choking, and headed blindly back into the field where the blazing coals lay the thickest. Clickl Adventure “Let him go,” thought the Yank. — Then his better nature conquered. It was an evil thing to let a fellow being burn to death, when he had but to reach out his hand and save him. “Here,” he shouted through his tunic, at the same time seizing the officer’s shoul- der. “The other way. Put your arm over your mouth!” The officer turned about without seeing who his rescuer was and followed. The grass was blazing now, and the Yank’s soles were more than hot when the smoke thinned and he found that he and the officer were well beyond the wagon-park. A little more, and they were in the open air. The Yank threw off his tunic and straightened up. One gulp of fresh air and then he began to cough and strangle, while the water ran from his eyes. The German wiped his own face. He had lost his busby and his close-cropped hair was singed in a sad manner. When he could see, he observed that the Yank was weaponless. He began to look about him as well as he could with his streaming eyes. At some distance were a number of guns, the air above them hung with bursting shrapnel like the lights of a boulevard. Those long dark masses by the wagon- lines meant gun teams dead in their traces. The gunners seemed to be attempting to wheel the guns away by hand, but the fire of the enemy was too terrible. The German swore. Those were his guns that were being destroyed. Help had arrived for the sorely tried British, and fresh artillery was playing upon the Ger- mans. He that raideth the flanks of an army must do it swiftly and be gone. The Germans seemed to have remembered this. On the far edge of the field, where the line of trees marked a road, cavalry could be seen trotting away. The German meas- ured the Yank apprdisingly. The Yank saw the look, half-blinded as he was—he had had to keep his eyes open in the smoke, to be sure that he and the officer would not lose their way, and his eyes were now resenting such treatment— and clenched his fist. If this Hun got rough, his aristocratic nose was in for a doleful time. The grass was burning freely now and a wall of fire a foot high was advancing on the two men. A puff of smoke swept forward, and the Yank’s indignant eyes wept afresh, Go NOOK 1O)