Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

226 of those perils they must pass, and when his feet finally swung free, he held her close in one arm, and slid as he had swarmed down a rope on ship- board. But never was he weighted as now with a woman’s life and his own love. And under the stars he had glimpses of the sheer straight walls of rock against which they scraped and bumped, and tree tops waving below. He knew from viewing this hill from the parapet that day, what horrors lay below—the bodies of Christophe’s vic- tims which fed vultures. Then suddenly Violette’s arms were limp on his shoulders. She had faint- ed, and he carried a more desperate burden than before. It seemed as if his own arms must part from their sockets. His flesh was burned by the rub of the coarse cloth rope when tree branches caught and tangled him, and still were not strong enough to hold his weight while he rested. Slithering and scraping he fought deeper into the thicket, and at length touched ground, on which he dropped with the girl, and lay panting and ex- hausted. But not for more than time to fill his lungs. That thick, moist foliage held fer-de-lance, whose sting was death. It held horror. For a moment he repented. leaving the uncertain mercy of Christophe for more certain death. It seemed to Basil Trelawney that his knife should end the life of Vio- lette and drink deep of his own heart’s blood as the only way out of their perils. Then the courage of youth, the love of life and her, prompted him to try again, to fight again. Lying there, rubbing her wrists, call- ing her back from unconsciousness, he caught amid the fragrant breaths from jungle flowers a smell of wood smoke, and the familiar scent was like a re- veille. Where there was smoke, was fire. It would serve as a guide to hu- man habitation. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. He caught Violette on his shoulder and staggered on perhaps five hundred yards, and found a clearly defined trail, where he set her on her feet and caught one arm about her, and together they went forward until he had a glimpse of winking light. ‘A little further, Sweet, and we’ll find help,” he had said, and repented his rash promise. For when they came within sight of the flames, there were dark, nude dancers circling, hideously painted black bodies, necklaces of fresh-cut cock’s combs dripping blood upon their chests, and in the fire some- thing that made Basil shudder, and which sent its awful stench to heaven. And there, dancing with the others, naked to the waist, was Gefondo. There was little noise except the crack- ling of the flames for several minutes. Then, from overhead came a squawk and a cock, dismembered of claws and comb, was tossed down, at which a shout arose as it floundered in dying agony about the fire, then flopped into the embers, heaved, and lay still. Basil pressed Violette’s face against his breast so that she could not see the horror. But he himself watched Ge- fondo break from the circling dancers and, kneeling before the flames, warm his hands. The hunchback molded something black and soft between his fingers that was swiftly shaped into the crude like- ness of a human body. He held it aloft, and the crowd pressed close and sent up a shout like a burst of thunder in which Basil distinguished the name of ‘ Christophe.” Gefondo held the little image high, muttering phrases as the howling grew wilder, then he plunged it feet first in- to the hot coals and drew it out shape- less. Tom-toms beat, near at hand, far- ther away, a continuous rippling mur- mur that seemed to fill the gloom about them. and there began a dance about the fire with Gefondo inside the circle shout- (Eo) JOOKS AAI They purred and quickened, — (E@)