Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

The Snow Driver “Nicholas Newborrow, what say you?” “T say this, in all due respect.” New- borrow flushed, and fingered the clasp of his cloak. “TI dare what any man dare, but in this unknown part of the world we face no human foes. Whither passed Sir Hugh? What of the good men and true he had with him? Whence came this grave?” He pointed through the gray vista of the enclosure to the rough wooden cross. “Whither fared the humans who were in this Wardhouse none so long before our coming? We saw no boat put off from the island.” “Tt is idle,’ quoth Chancellor, thrusting out his long chin—for he liked not New- borrow’s words or their effect on the listen- ers—‘‘to wonder upon that which we have not seen.” “‘We have seen, my master, this place where night cometh not at all, but a con- tinual ight shining upon a huge and mighty sea. Fare on with you I will, but here I will abide not. This is an evil place.” “So that is your mind. What of the others?” A brief silence fell, and after a moment Peter Palmer thrust aside the shipmen in front of him and greeted his leader. His round face was knotted with uneasiness. “A plague on them that hangs in stays when there’s work to be done. I'll bide with the younker. If so be my time’s run out, here is Christian soil and sepulcher.”’ He pointed to the grave and its cross. “TI can ill spare you, boatswain.”’ Chan- cellor thought it over with palpable concern. “Still, you and Thorne are mates, and that is good. Stay then, and God keep you.” To the armiger he added: _ “My course I can not give you, save that we sail east from here, and—I fear me— must winter on the Ice Sea. So, if you fol- low, watch the shore for the ship and huts. Master Burroughs, see to it that Thorne has weapons and victuals enough for two men fora twelvemonth. We hoise our sails at the third running out of the glass.” CHAPTER X PETER INTERPRETS AN OMEN S AN D now,” quoth Peter closing one eye and laying a finger along his massive nose, “‘we be our own masters, ye being captain and I mate, as it were. Ina year 33 from now we'll be living at our easc, a-riding in coaches and a-swearing hearty at our own serving knaves, like gen’lemen to the manor born.”’ They were then sitting at their ease in the Wardhouse hall which seemed bare and gloomy despite a roaring fire, since the de- parture of Chancellor and his company. “You sang another tune, Peter,” re- sponded Thorne with amusement “two days agone.”’ For two days the boatswain had worked like a Trojan, carrying up from the shore the gear and arms left them by Burroughs— a serviceable harquebus with three barrels, a hand gun for Thorne, who now wore a sword. Peter had his own cutlas, and had gleaned from the Edward a small keg of powder, and a cutty ax. They had a cask of brandy in addition to a butt of the familiar and detested beer, which, nevertheless Peter preferred to water, salt fish in plenty and a little beef, with a liberal allowance of biscuit and cheese and olive oil. All this they had stowed in the hall. They had taken turns climbing the peak to keep watch on the sea and cutting fire- wood, which Thorne stacked inside the palisade. “Well,” ruminated the boatswain, draw- ing himself a mug of brandy, ‘“‘that was afore Master Dickon cut us adrift. When we sailed along of him I obeyed orders and kept my tongue between my teeth. But all the while I had tidings of that which will make us rich as lords.” “On this island?”’ “The take this island! Nay, here’s the lay, Master Ralph. Gold and silver to be had for the picking up. Or else to be traded for—a knife or piece of pewter, look ye, for a fair pound of red gold.” Thorne hitched nearer the blaze, for the chill of the place touched his back with in- visible, icy fingers. “We are a long way from Cathay,” he yawned. “°Tis not Cathay.” Peter took a sip of the brandy and licked his thick lips. “I’ve sailed the seas I have, with the Portingals. And evil shipmen they be, but full o’ knowledge and tidings of the un- known world. At Fermagosta I first heard tell of this gold. Then at the Texel, when the Dutch merchants had looked too long CORnNIECLO© S (©