Adventure Magazine Cover — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

THE WOLF MASTER 13 the gate-post, Karai curled up in the snow at his feet. Eagerly he listened to the song of the marching Cossacks. He had crossed a continent to join these brothers, and with- in two hours he was left alone. A twinge of sadness touched him. But to the eye of an onlooker—if any had seen him in the murk of the falling snow—he seemed lost in con- templation. He had a task to perform, and with Kirdy that left no room for considera- tion of other matters. He must go to the false Tsar and measure swords with him. When the first. patrols of the Dobrudja Tatars in advance of the Vishnevetski regi- ments entered the streets of the village, rid- ing slowly with keen eyes peering into the snow curtain, they saw neither man nor dog, but only the deserted courtyard of a silent tavern. CHAPTER Ili I’ve hunted the wolf—I’ve coursed the stag, Over the prairies Of Tatary. The eagle’s my brother, the wild horse my nag— Hai-a—come and hunt with me! Sa\EASHING his whip-end about Karai’s_ stalwart neck, Kirdy elanced up and down the street z and crossed it, seeking a huddle of daitlesbede that he had noticed when he entered the village. Stooping, he made his way among restless steers and vociferating calves until he was conscious of an odor more penetrating than that of fouled straw or penned cattle. With a booted foot he felt in a manure heap until he touched something solid and heavy. “Up, chlop—up, animal, and tell me where the Jew’s hole is.” A man arose from hiding and bowed up and down like a marionette, breathing gustily between teeth that chattered. “Tick! tick! Be merciful, your Illustri- ousness. It is true that the Jews will give the noble-born warrior better plunder than we poor orthodox believers. Only come— ilck—this way!” The frightened peasant led Kirdy through the sheds and pointed out a nest of high wooden buildings that seemed to be falling in upon themselves. Kuirdy climbed a fence that Karai leaped without effort, and made his way into what his nose told him was a Jewish back door. Here the darkness was, ii possible, more impenetrable than under the sheds, and the reek was of cookery and unwashed wool. With the tip of his scab- bard Kirdy probed piles of trash and gar- ments until Karai growled suddenly, and the Cossack reached down to seize a human leg clad in a long woolen stocking. He changed his grip to the collar of his captive’s shuba and warned the Jew in a whisper to be quiet and conduct him to the crél or head man of the colony. The re- quest was emphasized by a touch of the sheathed saber—Kirdy would not have touched the steel blade to such a being for any need whatsoever. The invisible man went at a half trot through halls cluttered with quilts and pots, up stairs where rats scampered away, up a ladder where Kirdy was obliged to carry the wolfhound under his free arm, over a cov- ered gallery into a dark loft and stale, warm air. A woman squealed at the glow- ing eyes of the wolfhound, and Kirdy voiced a warning: “Strike a light, one of you. No harm, if you obey. Otherwise you will feel the fangs of the borzoi, the wolf chaser.”’ A patter of whispers was followed by a scramble, and flint flashed against tinder. A candle flamed up and the young Cossack saw that he was in an attic filled with old men, women and children scattered among piles of goods. From the rafters hung legs of mutton, strings of onions and mysterious articles of Jewish attire. Half a hundred dark eyes fastened instantly on the tall youth, and—in spite of deadly fear—gauged to a nicety the worth of his ermine coat, his wide velvet trousers, gold embroidered boots and splendid girdle. An elder in a ragged shuba came forward, holding his head on one side, his long cap in his gaunt hands—an ancient being scarred with pockmarks, with one eye half closed and the other shrewd and brilliant as the eye of a fox. ‘““Yusyski is my name, your honor. Only tell in what way my people can serve the noble knight.” “Tf one of your brood leaves the loft, you will die, Yusyski. Come with me. Take the candle.” Placing Karai at the end of the gallery, where the gray dog sniffed and growled alternately—relishing the human nest as little as his master—Kirdy made Yusyski overhaul piles of garments upon the shelves. Here were articles of miserable and costly COnmiCcMOookSs. CO