Amazing Stories, Vol. 2, No. 1 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

- vore. 66 AMAZING STORIES marked Brady, who had once served on the traffic squad in Chicago; and as no one asked him why, he volunteered that it was “‘because it’s no place for an Irishman.” “South Clark Street and heaven have something in common, then,” suggested Sinclair. James and Tippet laughed, and then a hideous growl broke from a dense thicket ahead and diverted their atten- tion to other matters. “One of them behemoths of ’Oly Writ,” muttered Tippet as they came to a halt and with guns ready awaited the almost inevitable charge. “Hungry lot o’ beggars, these,” said Bradley; “always trying to eat everything they see.” For a moment no further sound came from the thicket. “He may be feeding now,” suggested Brad- ley. “We’ll try to go around him. Can’t waste am- munition. Won’t last forever. Follow me.” And he set off at right angles to their former course, hoping to avert a charge. They had taken a dozen steps, perhaps, when the thicket moved to the ad- vance of the thing within it, the leafy branches parted, and the hideous head of a gigantic bear emerged. “Pick your trees,” waste ammunition.” The men looked about them. The bear took a couple of steps forward, still growling menacingly. He was exposed to the shoulders now. Tippet took one look at the monster and bolted for the nearest tree; and then the bear charged. He charged straight for Tippet. The other men scattered for the various trees they had selected—all except Brad- ley. He stood watching Tippet and the bear. The man had a good start and the tree was not far away; but the speed of the enormous creature be- hind him was something to marvel at, yet Tippet was in a fair way to make his sanctuary when his foot caught in a tangle of roots and down he went, his rifle flying from his hand and falling several yards away. Instantly Bradley’s piece was at his shoulder, there was a sharp report answered by a roar of mingled rage and pain from the carni- Tippet attempted to scramble to his feet. “Tie still!” shouted Bradley. ‘“Can’t waste ammunition.” The bear halted in its tracks, wheeled toward Bradley and then back again toward Tippet. Again the former’s rifle spit angrily, and the bear turned again in his direction. Bradley shouted loudly. “Come on, you behemoth of Holy Writ!” he cried. “Come on, you duffer! Can’t waste ammunition.” And as he saw the bear apparently upon the verge of deciding to charge him, he encouraged the idea by backing rapidly away, knowing that an angry beast will more often charge one who moves than one who lies still. And the bear did charge. Like a bolt of lightning he flashed down upon the Englishman. “Now run!” Bradley called to Tippet and himself turned in flight whispered Bradley. ‘“Can’t than the human race itself. sibility. clusion is even more so. er —————— E are now embarking upon the third and final install- ment of this most remarkable of stories. By this time you must agree with us that you have never read anything quite like it, quite so exciting. In the last mstallment we meet the far-famed Wieroos, a race not more impossible exist somewhere in the universe is not at all beyond pos- As a matter of fact, it is most probable. If the former installments were remarkable, the con- ‘ a oe =e Cen ae Leumeta” te % a =p ee, SA SO he ee a a ATES Ee > gay ee ee CR Meni as ae toward a near-by tree. The other men, now safely ensconced upon various branches, watched the race with breathless interest. Would Bradley make it? It seemed scarcely possible. And if he didn’t! James gasped at the thought. Six feet at the shoulder stood the frightful mountain of blood-mad flesh and bone and sinew that was bearing down with the speed of an express train upon the seemingly slow- moving man. It all happened in a few seconds; but they were seconds that seemed like hours to the men who watched. They saw Tippet leap to his feet at Brad- ley’s shouted warning. They saw him run, stooping to recover his rifle as he passed the spot where it had fallen. They saw him glance back toward Brad- ley, and then they saw him stop short of the tree that might have given him safety and turn back in the direction of the bear. Firing as he ran, Tippet raced after the great cave bear—the monstrous thing that should have been extinct ages before— ran for it and fired even as the beast was almost upon Bradley. The men in the trees scarcely breathed. It seemed to them such a futile thing for Tippet to do, and Tippet of all men! They had never looked upon Tippet as a coward—there seemed to be no. cowards among that strangely assorted com- pany that Fate had gathered together from the four corners of the earth—but Tippet was considered a cautious man. Overcautious, some thought him. How futile he and his little pop-gun appeared as he dashed after that living engine of destruction! But, oh, how glorious! It was some such thought as this that ran through Brady’s mind, though articulated it might have been expressed otherwise, albeit more forcefully. Just then it occurred to Brady to fire and he, too, opened upon the bear, but at the same instant the animal stumbled and fell forward, though still growling most fearsomely. Tippet never stopped running or firing until he stood within a foot of the brute, which lay almost touching Bradley and was already struggling to re- gain its feet. Placing the muzzle of his gun against the bear’s ear, Tippet pulled the trigger. The creature sank limply to the ground and Brad- ley scrambled to his feet. “Good work, Tippet,” he said. ““Mightily obliged to you—awful waste of ammunition, really.” And then they resumed the march and in fifteen minutes the araonndee had ceased even to be a topic of conversation. The Hatchet-Men OR two days they continued upon their perilous way. Already the cliffs loomed high and forhid- ding close ahead without sign of break to encourare hope that somewhere they might be scaled. Late in the afternoon the party crossed a small stream of warm water upon the sluggishly moving surface of which floated countless millions of tiny green eggs surrounded by a light scum of the same color, , boo . Ort *% ; 9 <2 4 “ia fe ong: ewe ie yt ? a a It That some such beings can