Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

HIDDEN TREASURE OF KALIN twist of his lips, and his heels thudded against the ribs of his mount. A dark figure rose before him, fell as the warrior released his arrow and the loping stride of the horse cut down the distance to the next running figure. The Hairy was cunning. He heard the sound of the unshod hooves on the thick grass and turned, falling to his face as an arrow whined through the air where he had been a moment before, then, as horse and rider thundered past, he clawed at Kalin’s leg and pulled him to the ground. Before he hit the ground the warrior had twisted away from the talons clutching at his ankle. He rolled, sprang to his feet, and ducked as the Hairy rushed at him, fanged mouth agape and talons out- stretched towards his eyes. The stench coming from the shaggy pelt almost made Kalin vomit and he dived to windward as he tugged at his sword. The weapon was a strip of 71 heavy iron, hammered to a rough edge and with a crude point. Leather thongs made a hilt and the guard was a piece of wood. Kalin swung as the Hairy rushed at him, slamming the dull edge deep into the sloping skull of the distorted man-shape, and jumped aside as the creature died with kicking reflex action. Sombrely he tugged out the sword, wiped it on the pelt, and searched for his bow. It had broken in the fall and he swore as he held the pieces, trying to see whether or not it could be repaired with a simple lash- ing. He was still studying it when a man came running towards him. “Kalin.” “Yes?” “A runner from the village with news for you alone.” “So?” The warrior kicked the dead thing lying at his feet and whistled to his horse. “How many?” “Fifteen. Ten are dead, stuck by the twangers; the comicloooks.com