Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

56 wildling squire. Aye, that long haired imp is a familiar of the powers of darkness.”’ “God grant,” cried Joan, ‘that Master Chancellor meets with you.” “Tf you wish the pilot well, pray other- wise,” responded Durforth grimly, “I know where he must lie, if he lives, and it should go hard but I bring the Easterling pack upon his back.” Into Joan’s whirling thoughts came mem- ories of childhocd tales, of werewolves that took the form and semblance of men by day and turned to beasts at nightfall, of beasts that ran to join the unhallowed company of the witches’ sabbath. “How did you gain this power over the savages?” she whispered, fearful of hearing what was in her mind. Durforth’s face seemed to change, and the fire in his brown eyes died down. “Power?” He waxed thoughtful. ‘‘Why, I can speak with them. Power springs always from wealth, because it feeds the desire of men. I promised Shatong riches incalculable if he would guard me with his men to the Town of Wooden Walls which is the docr to Russia, or Muscovy. I promised to show him the mystery of gun- powder.” He was gazing at her now, narrowly. “My hold on them is slight. Remember that. And now say if you will cast your lot with me?” “YT will not. For-by you have said that you sent the pinnace that wrought evil to my father.” _ Durforth shook his head slowly. “Here is irony. ’Tis true the men and the ship were mine, but I did order them to conduct themselves straitly and do no harm, for fear of a broil with the English rovers. They fell a-plundering.”’ It amused him that he, who had been forced to lie without cessation, should not gain credit for the one truth. “I see,” he added, ‘‘you will have none of me. May the foul fiend take you, slut, did’st think an empire is built out of billing and cooing and tying of breast-knots? Sha- tong, then, shall have you.” Glancing into her stricken face, he moved impatiently. ‘“My pretty vixen, I put no value on your beauty, nor does Shatong. He will e’en have a use for you.” Durforth laughed again in amusement at her obvious signs of fear. Adventure NOW as he beckoned to the shaman who had been peering at them and at the ridges about the camp, through the tangle of his long hair, Dur- forth’s eyes began to glow. His tongue touched his lips and a certain eagerness was apparent as he signed for the Ostiak to lead away the maiden. ‘“Khada ulan obokhod,” the wizard mut- tered. “The dead souls that dwell in the mountains and high places have spoken to me. They say the man who is your enemy is near this place. I can bring him to the fire.”’ Durforth looked at the old savage curi- ously. He was more than a little supersti- tious, and he had seen the shaman do un- accountable things. “Before the last of the light is gone, I will bring him.” Shatong’s thin hand closed on Joan’s arm. “But I must take the maiden for this work.” The man nodded, and Shatong led Joan to a stone on the other side of the fire, and went to his horsehide. Striking on the drum slowly he began a song, the copper bells and the iron trinkets on his leather apron keeping a rude sort of time. CHAPTER XVI THE WHITE BEAR | ae flat on his belly in the snow, wriggled uneasily. They had been too far away for Thorne to hear what was said between the two outlanders, but Shatong’s shrill voice was distinct enough in the thin air. Kyrger knew that the shaman was try- ing to draw Thorne to the Ostiaks, although the white man was clearly waiting for dark- ness before he made any move. More logs were thrown on the fire, and as dusk fell the figure of the skamas: was covered with a ruddy tinge. On one knee he bent over the drum, chanting his dis- cordant song. Then he rose to his toes and spread out his arms, moving toward Durforth. Kyrger knew by this that the kam, the spirit of the wizard, had become separated from his body and was flying through the air. Shatong, therefore, meant to journey to the cold underground region where Erlik ruled the spirit world. “The dead souls say,” chanted the wiz- ard, “I must cut myself. I will cut myself with your knife.” CORnNICLaOe (©