Adventure Magazine Cover — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

RED STRIPES but his heart was strong. Little Beaver said: “He will die very brave. himself.” His wrist thongs were unfastened and his hunting shirt was removed. He rubbed his hands and arms briskly to stimulate circu- lation. One young man stood behind him and the man holding the dish was before him. With much deliberation he took the fragment of pounded bark, serving as a brush, and began smearing the mixture over his scrawny chest. Little Beaver looked on approvingly. Wild of gaze, Knight watched the old man calmly decorate himself for the fire. Bryant slowly drew a spiral and informed the interested watchers: “This is a smoke medicine. It will keep me from choking.” Those in the background edged closer, ever keen to learn about new medicines. Little Beaver grimly suggested— “Let the white man draw a medicine that will keep the fire from burning.” “He will do that after the smoke-medi- cine is finished,” quietly assured the old man. “Let Little Beaver watch closely and learn about strong medicines. I heard an owl in the woods telling the ghost of my grandfather that Little Beaver’s medicine is sick, or asleep.”’ Knights understood nothing of this ex- change but felt the drama of it. The chief was now glaring malevolently and all were watching the prisoner with the greatest in- terest. Despite his terrible plight the younger man found himself likening the curious, expectant Indians to inquisitive little children. The comparison was gro- tesque, yet it persisted. The old man fin- ished the smoke-spiral and held the drip- ping bark-brush high and sharply called out: “Look! Look! With sharp eyes and see a strong meclicine!”’ The gaze of all was lifted to watch the brush, now slowly describing a small circle. With incredible quickness the. thin claw- like hand shot forward and plucked a skin- ning-knife from a Wyandot’s belt and al- most with the same movement thrust it deep between the man’s bare ribs. Simul- taneously the brush was smeared across the face of the next nearest man. It was done and the prisoner was leaping toward the dusky woods before an Indian could make a move. Then Little Beaver threw up his Let him paint 169 gun and fired just as the prisoner was mak- ing cover. Yelling like wolves, men raced after the fugitive. Knight huskily exclaimed aloud— ‘He got clear!”’ The old man had worked most cunningly. He had “‘got clear’—clear of the stake and the flaying knives, and never again could he suffer hurt. Bryant felt nauseated as the chief returned to the fire, carrying the yel- lowish white scalp. HERE was no rejoicing over this : ~trophy. Little Beaver respect- fully placed it on the fire and di- rected that the dead warrior be hidden in the ground, or a hollow log, and that the camp be shifted a few miles. It was not a good place for Wyandot men to tarry im. The white man’s medicine was about the little opening. It had saved him from the smoke and the coals, even as he had claimed that it would. He had died painlessly and had cheated his captors. He was a very wise old man, and his ghost even now was laughing at them. Around red camp-fires he would be spoken of with great respect. The camp was moved two miles to a creek.* The men were gloomy and dis- pirited. A strong medicine had worked against success on this path. Once the men decided Little Beaver’s medicine was re- sponsible his following would fall off. None sensed this more quickly than the chief him- self. Like his men he was in a gloomy state of mind when he took to his blankets. With his belt of rawhide around his waist Knight slept by snatches. Each time he woke up he was overwhelmed by his awful plight. It was so inexorable; so inescapable. The darkness was thinning when the first war- rior rolled out and threw dry fuel on the fire. Knight’s appearance plainly revealed his state of mind. Unlike Bryant he could not make-believe. His guards rose and unfastened the thongs running from their waists to the prisoners waist. His feet were untied and he was helped to stand. The men were courte- ous, even gentle, but now he knew all this was deliberately planned to increase his suf- fering. He held out his hands for one of the men to unfasten. The Indians had no fear that he could escape; and did he try his dis- appointment would be their joy. One of his * Salt Creek, Jackson County. DOOLK (C@