Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

WITHOUT FEAR. the clustered tree trunks about them, as dangerous to the pursued as to the pursuers, but the Gascons recked little of this as, with triumphant yells, first D’Albret and then André, caught up with an Indian and quickly dispatched him. But now the Indians had reached the limits of the tangled vegetation—the twisted grape-vines and prickly shrubs which grew abundantly where repeated floods had de- posited a rich, fertile loam—and, drawing rapidly away from their heavier pursuers, soon disappeared in the forest ahead. Here, at the edge of the jungle, D’Albret and Rossignol dropped exhausted into a depres- sion in the ground caused by the uprooting of a giant tree and, panting violently, they awaited the attack their vengeful enemies were sure to deliver. Rossignol was a ludicrous sight as he leaned with his back against the rotted wood of an ancient root and glanced up into the trees above him where, with ven- omous hiss, an occasional arrow whistled past. He had lost the black shield which he was accustomed to wear over his blind eye and his hideous features were scratched and torn. From head to foot he was streaked in mud and sand and, down one corner of his -face, dropping from his chin, a thin, muddy trickle splashed upon his coat. But upon the man’s face was a beatific grin and be- tween his labored gasps he swore hap- pily. The light of battle gleamed from D’AI- bret’s eyes as he panted heavily beside his servant and he clutched the blood-stained dirk tightly and peered over the edge of his shelter toward the direction whence the stream of arrows was coming. Before many minutes had elapsed the whistling darts were striking the rim of the circular bowl in which they lay and the Frenchmen were forced to lie flat in order to escape the arrows now being discharged from all direc- tions. They were surrounded! The circle of their enemies crept nearer and nearer to their retreat and, as the Chickasaws started climbing trees and shooting down from their leafy shelter, the two Gascons were hard put to keep their bedies guarded from the death that men- 215 aced them. When finally the savages started shooting their arrows. into the air so that they fell straight down into the hole in which the Frenchmen lay crouched, D’Albret realized that it could be only a matter of minutes before one or the other must be hit. These dropping shots were exceedingly difficult to dodge. Although, owing to the denseness of the trees, the majority of the arrows stuck in the limbs and branches overhead, when one of the darts shot through its swift appearance below the green mantle was so sudden that there was barely time to get out of its way. ‘Methinks we'll be skewered before long,” commented Rossignol dryly as he huddled closer to the bank and gazed up into the foliage above him from which sundered leaves were dropping as the ar- rows clove through the branches. “If I die, m’szeu’—if I die, and you escape, there is a little girl in Lyons—” “Tf thou art killed, André—as assuredly thou ‘lt be—my bones will rot alongside of thine.” D’Albret’s eyes were moist as he contem- piated his fate, which appeared imminent, and the face of Felice arose before him— Felice as she had looked into his eyes when she had bade him kiss her—and he did not see the covert movement of his companion as André fumbled within his bosom and brought forth a soiled rag in which was wrapped a wisp of golden hair; nor did he observe that his servant pressed the token to his lips as he crouched against the crumbling bank. But they were not yet to die. The steady shower of arrows ceased and a voice hailed the Frenchman from the branches of a tree which overlooked their retreat. ‘““Tf ye wish to live,” came the shouted announcement in execrable Spanish, “ ye ‘will throw your knives to the ground and walk toward the stream with your arms folded before you!” Rossignol looked inquiringly toward his master as. D’Albret translated the remarks into French. ‘Will we surrender, m’sieu’?” he eagerly asked as he put away the little token which he held in his hand. , COMNMUC NOOLK CO