Adventure Magazine Cover — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

Wi; 7 ' —- A = re! ‘ bs 4 z a ? 4 ‘ f, fe \Ven \ water and meat. This consideration led the prisoner to believe that at the worst he would be held in some red village until he could be ransomed. After he reached the Indian shore sev- eral ambitious young men remained behind and did not rejoin the band until the eve- ning of the second day. They brought in two scalps and one prisoner. The chief re- joiced greatly. He would be credited with victory by a slight margin. The horrid proofs of the tragedy were danced with much enthusiasm that evening. When he found himself by the prisoner the Virginian asked for details. “We was took by surprize while setting traps for beaver and otter,” the man ex- plained in a monotonous voice. ‘I’m Abner Bryant. ‘There was the three of us, Ben an’ Tom Durgin an’ me. Ben ’lowed he could make a firehole in a clump of willers that no Injun could see. Well, both the Durgins are dead.” He was a thin, dried-out wisp of a man whose head was thinly frosted by a round number of years. He spoke without emo- tion, as one who is weary. His accep- November 23rd, 1926 tance of his capture and the death of his friends smacked of fatalism. The incident was closed and did not interest him. How- ever, he was curious enough to inquire— “Who might you be?”’ “Harry Knight. A fool. Knew more’n my elders at the station on the Big Sandy,” was the bitter reply. ‘We got three of them. Then I had to go outside the stock- ade to prove I knew it all and that the In- juns had gone. Now I s’pose I’ve got to put in a winter in some filthy village.” Bryant eyed him in mild surprize and asked— “Know their lingo?” Knight shook his head impatiently. “No sense to their jabber. The leader treats me well. I think he likes me.” Bryant pursed his thin lips and glanced appraisingly at the well-knit figure of the younger man and decided. “You oughter last three days. They’ll manage to keep you alive for two, anyway.” “Keep me alive?” repeated Knight. “But Tain’t sick. Bruised and scratched—” Bryant broke in: “Young man, you’n me will be painted 167 MICLOOOKS C@