Adventure Magazine Cover — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

a7, Pi. | “ot ee en & we RUA eatin to maks you sweat blood before I ‘den scream, and abtie that he was Saint. finish with you, and so had you struck down from behind, you too would now be meat for the vultures, which are gathering for ye = their feast.” And I looked up as I lay there, and saw that he spoke truth, for the black urubus already were settling into the trees around us. Swiftly I rolled over and sprang up and attacked him again in fury—with my bare hands this time, for my machete was gone. [ got his throat in my hands and throttled him. But another blow smashed on my head, and for the second time I was knocked senseless. And when the light came back to me I could not fight more, for I was sick— sick from a terrible headache caused by those blows, and sick because I had been brutally kicked in the stomach while I lay there. And as I looked around I grew yet sicker from what I saw. For those demonios were mutilating the bodies of my comrades in a manner such as I can not tell you about, and such as only fiends could ever have thought of. I looked at Paulo, who lay near me, and saw his face was gray-white. As I moved he caught my eye and said hoarsely: “Do not fight more, chief, or they will do to us what they are doing to the dead—and do it while we are alive. Their yellow capr- ‘tio has said so.’ I made no answer, but my face may have shown my thought, for he added: “Do not look so at me—I can not fight. See, my right arm is broken. And I was struck down from behind even as you were, and I am sick.”’ Ey] BEFORE I could say anything, if I Be had wanted to, a voice arose in a babble of meaningless words. The sound came from the tambo, where Jorge lay racked with fever, and I knew it was he, raving in his illness. The Peccaries turned and looked toward the noise, and the leader went to the hammock where Jorge lay. “Ah! The fever?” he purred. “That is very sad, my friend, that you have fever. If you were well you might be a beast of burden for us, but you are far too weak to be useful. And since I am very tender of heart, and it grieves me deeply to see you suffering so, I will cure you at once.’ _ Then Jorge S aga shes into a sud- ing Sunes = behind. oS re: rm acer ee, = — = oe =<s- vie =< nt et mg SS = od — — i a eS ee —T “ ~~ M4 Zt << a _ = =a. ie wee Se Se ire 2 Ss wate SS ee ee ae me « : a 3 s SF St a ee ee eee wee <5 =. = et SS Cn rg we Re : ot a. Res et And the yellow man came out grinning, and carrying a red-stained knife. The foul-smelling caboclos laughed harsh- ly at his murderous humor. A cold, deadly rage filled me. Iached to kill them all. Vet I saw how hopeless my position was, and_ swiftly determined what I would do. Though I would rather die fighting than be their pack-animal, yet I would not fight, nor die either; for if I were dead I would be of no use to myself or any one else, while if I lived and awaited my chance [ might find a way to destroy this band, or at least some - of them, and avenge my mates. So when tlie chief murderer ordered me roughly to get up I did so meekly, though with some difficulty because of my aching stomach. And when he called me dog again, and told me that if I made more trouble he would cut out my bowels, I an- | swered: “IT will make no trouble, senhor. You have won, and I am no fool. I fought for my rubber and my friends, and you can not | blame a man for that.” __ “You have it right,’ he answered. “And you have sense also, and you are a good fighter. If you serve-us well we may not treat you so badly. Perhaps you may even become one of us, for we need fighting men. If you do become a Peccary you shall have much gold, and women. “But first we shall see how you act. If you try treachery, you will scream for death a long time before it comes to you.” “Gold and women?” I asked as if that bait tempted me. “Where do you get your women, senhor?” - He laughed then, a vile laugh, and stared at me with glittering eyes so evil that I se- cretly felt ashamed that any man should think of me what he thought. And he said: “So you are interested, yes? We get the women wherever we find them. There are handsome maidens in the Indian villages here and there—yes, young and strong and beautiful—and when they have come to us they love us so much that they never leave us—until they die.”’ And he laughed again, cruelly; and the white-jawed men laughed too, so that I shivered, picturing to ‘myself what the fate of those women must be. But I concealed my feelings, and when they ordered me to the rubber tambo I went, with Paulo niet