Adventure Magazine Cover — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

THE WOLF MASTER horse. No human being appeared on the sky-line. For the third time Otrépiev had hidden his trail—first by the body of a dead man, then by fire and sword, then by water. How was a man to be found in that wilder- ness of lush grass, of thickening brush and flooding watercourses? The Cossack was on the edge of the known world; beyond the river, he could still return to Ayub and wise old Khlit and say truly that he had followed Otrépiev until all signs failed. But Otrépiev had once sworn that he would press on, to the Golden Horde. And this would be like the reckless spirit that had prayed to a grinning mask. For the Golden Horde was no more than a name, spoken by wanderers. Some said the Horde was to be found beyond the | Earth Girdle, others said the Horde was not ‘made up of living men but of spirits, penned eternally behind a rampart far toward the rising sun. All these matters Kirdy pondered for a day while he rested the kabardas and re- paired his arrows. Then, well content with his course, he set out. Lacking a trail, he turned his horse’s head toward the rising sun. ik grass of the steppe grew long and tough, and the wind dried up the dark pools of water in the hollows. Instead of purple, the shadows lay gray on the plain, and haze was in the air, like a veil. The ‘whirling plant” rolled and tossed before the wind and often on the sky-line black smoke appeared. For the length of two moons, Kirdy pushed steadily toward the rising sun. He passed through a land where the earth itself was gray, and a white froth spread around the pools of water—salt. Here the only game were antelope herds, and wide winged bustards, and man and horses suffered be- fore he turned north to seek for a river. If he was to go on, he must find good graz- ing for the kabardas. He had fashioned his goatskins to hold water, and made new saddle-bags out of antelope hide—though he had little enough to carry. The barley was about gone, and only a few cups of brandy remained in the leather jug. The land began to rise as he went on, and instead of finding grass he entered a barren and rocky region. During the two months he had met few human beings because he avoided the larger clusters of tents, only 51 riding up to the fires of two or three men— thin-faced nomads with long greasy hair, who tried first to bargain with him, then to beg. Their language he did not know but he had no doubt whatever that they were born thieves as well as idol worshippers and filth eaters. More than once he had to draw his sword. When he asked where lay the Altyn Juz— the Golden Horde—these creatures merely stared at him or shook their heads. But once or twice he saw them glance under- standingly toward the east, and he thought they knew the name of the Golden Horde. Although he did not come upon a large river, the nature of the land began to change again. The dry tamarisk growth yielded to thickets of birch and aspen. In the valleys now he met rivers flowing from the the east, and since these were full in mid- summer, he knew that far beyond sight they were born on the upper tiers of great mountains where the snow melted slowly under the touch of the sun. “In the beginning,” he said to himself, “the streams ran from the west.” It was the first sign he had that he was coming to a different land. RDY knew cattle country—knew K that this was a mellow, ripe land, well suited to cattle—and he be- gan to be puzzled. It was rolling grassland, thinly wooded, with the blue lines of hills wandering here and there against the sky. Fish were in the streams and some of these he caught while the kabardas rested and rolled and healed saddle sores. And at times the Cos- sack saw gray clouds of sheep near at hand —enormous masses. He heard dogs bark from behind the sheep. The sheep were heavy and fat-tailed—certainly they had not been driven far. When he rode on again, he observed horses grazing on the uplands, and though they galloped off before the kabardas, he made out that they were branded. ‘They were shaggy beasts, swift-footed, evidently at home. Once he saw camels stalking on the sky-line. But no men were to be seen. Certainly the cattle and sheep were not wild—dogs did not shepherd mountain sheep. In the steppe the beasts of a tribe are always guarded, unless the owner is so feared that enemies dare not take what belongs to him. COMmMiCoooks (C© 5}