Adventure Magazine Cover — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

66 wind. The wind had a chill bite to it; the stars were hidden and rain pelted down as Kirdy, following the distant hoof beats, swerved into a gully. His horse stumbled and recovered with a long stagger and clatter of hoofs. Again Kirdy lashed him, but again he stumbled heavily. They dipped down into a nest of boulders, and when Kirdy reined in the done-up horse he could hear nothing of the men in front of him—only the rider coming up behind, who proved to be Nada. Mustering what strength was left him after sleepless days and loss of blood, the Cossack caught her rein and spoke hoarsely. ‘“‘Unharmed he goes upon the road to Satan. And what road will you follow?” “T will stay with you.” Kirdy could see nothing at all, and the beat of the rain was like sword strokes on his bare head. With the rein of the kabarda over his arm, he staggered toward the rocky side of the gully, to seek for shelter. Once he felt Nada catch his arm. Stumbling forward, he tried to feel out the way. -Though his legs still carried him, he was half unconscious. Then he became aware that he was in a dry place—a shallow cavern, he thought. He heard the heavy breathing of the horses, the light step of Nada. Flinging himself down, he fell asleep at once. The girl had taken the warrior’s head in her lap, and with the long tresses of hair that had been kept dry under the sheepskin hat she rubbed the water and blood from his face. Because she also was weary and— for the first time in months—happy, she wept. CHAPTER XVI CONCERNING TEVAKEL KHAN mRSLAN the ax-man sat on the f| saddle atop the treasure wagon J Rl of the vanished wizard and re- ties} lated over and over again the tale of what he had seen. This he did to es- tablish his own worth and importance, but also to keep intact the contents of the wagon. It had been placed upon him as a duty to preserve this spoil for the Cossack, and being no more than one man Arslan knew that guile must come to the aid of his ax, if he was to ward greedy hands from the bundles and chests that he sat on. HAROLD LAMB With the gold-embroidered kontash of the dead Pole wrapped around him, and the body of the Pole to point to, in evidence of his tale, he held forth: ““Hai—in this fashion it was. We had slain many of the Turkoman wolves—the Kazak Panga and I. We twain rode up this bogh, to where the standard was to be seen. In this place as you may see, I slew the Frank, splitting his skull. Then out of the darkness appeared the woman dressed as a man and the Kazak bade me wipe clean a light sword and bestow it upon her. It was a good sword, though light. Then the twain rode to look at this wagon which con- tains the magic of the Fanga nialma. ‘“‘No sooner had they touched the kilitka than the Fanga nialma came toward us, with a white pelt swinging from his shoul- ders and his horse snorting fire. The Kazak Fanga shouted and reined at him, swinging the enchanted sword that cuts through iron or leather. If there were not magic in the sword, how else would it cut as it does? “Then, behold, the Fanga nialma fled for his life. But he cried out to the spirits of the upper air, and rain came, to be a veil in covering his flight. He vanished like a rat in a wheat field, and the Kazak also van- ished; but by the gods of the high places, my brothers, it is not well to touch this 7- bitka. I, who have permission, may sit in this saddle thus. Now, my brothers, bring me mare’s milk and the fat tail of a sheep from a full pot.” After a time came Tevakel Khan with two sons, to look at the wizard’s wagon. Though they yearned to investigate, after hearing Arslan’s tale they decided not to do so until all the rest of the spoil of the Turko- man camp was safely garnered. The Turkoman wolves had been slashed and driven. The fighting eddied over the plain, as scattered wind gusts follow a hur- ricane. And the Tatars pursued like fer- rets—for this was the kind of fighting they relished. The Horde had been thinned under the dreaded swords of the invaders, but the greater part of the Turkomans lay headless in the high, wet grass. Their heads were piled into pyramids, about which vultures and crows flapped and stalked. The men of the Golden Horde cared not for slaves, and they had seen their women hung by the feet and burned the night before. The younger warriors were still in the COMICLOOokKS C©