Adventure Magazine Cover, December 18, 1919 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

. a. Gentlemen of the North 147 Mouth’s insult raised him in the war-chief’s esteem. ‘Don’t get killed so you can not go on the war-path with me,” he warned. The Pillager waved his hand and galloped toward the north. I knew he planned swinging east and crossing the Missouri at the mouth of the Knife, risking an en- counter with any loitering Assiniboins as he made for the lower Mandan village. He courted grave hazards in pursuing this course, but I could appreciate his desire to leave Le Borgne in ignorance of his true purpose.. Had he set forth on the road we had come over, the Minnetaree chief* might have forbidden his departure, fearing some trick. - As I walked Sito the lage Le Borgne kept beside me. - We could not talk for the lack of an interpreter, yet I sensed a change in the chief. I got the impression some- thing was troubling him. He carried his ax and swung it in short vicious circles. Knowing my success in trading white. robes for the girl depended on the particular mood he might be in, I took heart enough to believe his thoughts were for war and not for women. His talk with Flat Mouth evidenced a desire to go to battle. It was possible the White Snake’s news about the strangers had aroused the warrior in him. When we came to Choke-Cherry’s hut he halted, and I did the same. Chief of the Wolves and his two younger brothers and the White Snake were posted at regular intervals at the front of the hut. To learn if they were sentinels, I boldly entered the porch and placed my hand on the door. Chief of the Wolves sprang forward and pushed me.back. I glanced at Le Borgne and he motioned me to step back. Speak- ing loudly in English for the girl’s benefit, I told Chief of the Wolves to keep his hands off me or I would shoot him. She heard me, and her voice called out— “Oh, American! I’m afraid!’ Le Borgne thrust forward his head, his one eye glittering like a piece of broken glass in the sunlight. He was suspicious. He forgot I did not talk his lingo and shot out some query’ which I guessed to be a demand to know what the white woman had said. I made spiral lines with my ' index finger high above my head, the sign token for medicine and, as one overawed, ~ softly withdrew from inside the porch. He followed me and [I called out: “Don’t be afraid. We’ll get you out of this.”’ With a grunt of rage Le Borgne clapped his hand over my lips.. With my left hand I repeated the medicine sign, and with my right I drew back my gun the full stretch of my arm until the two muzzles rested under his chin. It was a language he readily understood and he stepped clear of me. To demonstrate he was not angry he patted my shoulder and called out to his men, evidently telling them I was a brave man. I remained a while before the hut, but the girl did not attempt to address me again, nor did I speak to her. I was inter- ested in watching Le Borgne whenever he glanced at White Snake. It was then that the hint of worry showed between his eyes. Gradually the conviction formed in my mind that he was uneasy over the Snake’s budget of news, and was wondering who the strangers might be whose coming so excited his deadly enemies the Sioux. Or perhaps White Snake had told him who they were. He was not angry at the Snake, and yet the sight of him brought the troubled¢ines in his forehead. It was re- freshing to think something besides amorous thoughts were inside that savage brain-pan. I turned away to go to my hut, and behind me sounded the girl’s clear voice, raised in her indescribable song of the woods and the rivers. The effect on the Minnetarees was pronounced. The guards glided away from the hut and betrayed agitation. Le Borgne stood with folded arms, glaring at the rawhide door as if some hostile medicine were challenging him to open it. The voice rippled on, and I knew its purpose was to tell me she had not lost heart, that she * elieved and depended onthe Pillager and me. Le Borgne re- mained rigid for a few moments, then took a step forward. I immediately shifted the gun over my left arm, and, did he touch the door, I was ready. to let him have the right barrel. But with one foot inside the porch he halted. The voice of the singer climbed to shrill heights, then cascaded down to a low colorful tone which was sadly sweet and infinitely pathetic. The chief drew back his foot and with an explosive grunt has- tened away. I dropped the gun to my side. “Don’t be afraid,” I called out to her as she ceased her singing. This tifme no one attempted to stop my speaking to her. COMIC OOOKS (C@