Adventure Magazine Cover — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

g a= just below their summits aliers - the small streams sprang into life. : - — ew rm rs oy . " . gare Se eee A et. ss SS ee ks ¥ > 7 —— —S eas Se Ome ae Oe cigs ee male see eas —— Paes " => ees 5 wey Soares eR ee ge oe ee 4 is ee ge Fre ee ee Ane tS ee s - ia = oe bal - > © ~ , ne — ia " pe . a> — PE . - eee gee 4 tA Se toe ofl We came into a country which was bare of vegetation, a great high plateau, cracked = 2 = and broken and covered with lava-beds. J “Ty DY Nae ed A a se iv L cages X_* “~ 3 7 Ce c sh ‘ . * ““Game was scarce and we met with no tribes of Indians with whom to trade for corn-meal and dried meat of wild pig and deer. Our grub grew low and we hoarded it carefully, traveling fast for many days - until we should reach a better country. “We were in to the east of Ixlan and heading in the direction of Guadalajara. Our bellies grew lean and our faces grew long from the hard tramping and the light eating. The gringo, a bigger man than I, whacked fair with the few beans and meal; but between us we ate less than half enough for one strong man. “For twenty days we hiked through this high volcanic plateau with the food growing less and less each day until we called a small morsel a meal for each of us. Water was also scarce and many nights we lay down to sleep with our tongues parched and swollen. “T was young and my appetite was hearty and I cursed the gringo to myself when my stomach gnawed and writhed. within me. But no word of complaint did I make. The gringo also made no complaint. “But he feared me. Often when I traveled behind he paused for me to come ahead and make the pace. He seemed to read my very thoughts even when his head was turned the other way. “T was nearly eighteen now and as hard as nails. I often studied my strength against that of the gringo and came to know he was more powerful than I, fauch more so, and although old enough to have fathered me he was quick as a cat in his slow, ungainly way, his mind and muscles working together in the flash of an eyelid. “Also he was sure-footed as a mule on the rough roads. Often I slipped and stumbled but he never did. He picked the right spot at the right time to set his foot on stones that rolled an instant after his foot had left them.” THE Mexican paused as he reached mi into his shirt pocket for a cigaret. Down below us in the valley the coyotes were howling mournfully. The moon thrust two dim horns upward from behind the horizon. The wind soughed through he took quick succeeding puffs on his cigaret- = ““AND yet one day he did fall. be had come into sight of the town of San Marcos, miles away, and the stunted pin. ptrées -on ‘the falls shoul? ee The Mexican staved across at us solemnly as. We were hastening in that ‘directio® A stone — rolled under his foot and he pitched head- foremost down a bank some ten yards high. “TJ ran and peered over. He lay in a limp heap at the bottom. The cliff was of smooth ‘black basalt, and I quickly picked out a path and ran down to him. “My knife was in my hand as I bent over him. Both his arms were doubled under him like twisted ropes. I knew they were broken and that he was helpless. “His eyes opened by quick jerks and he saw me kneeling there with murder in my heart. He stared coldly, calmly into my eyes. My tongue clove to my mouth as I tried to utter the curses I had stored in my brain for this hour. I had pictured him cringing and perhaps begging for his life when I had him at my mercy; yet, lying there crippled and helpless, he was his old imperious self. Fear of death was . not in him; of that I am quite sure. “ ‘Strike? he snapped from his hard-set mouth. ‘Make a quick job of it and go on your way.’ “He raised his head a little so as to ex- pose his throat for the knife and waited for the thrust. Something snapped within me and a strange feeling stole over me. It was like the times that I had watched the sunset and the play of the shadows down in the cafions, or listened to the wind booming through the tall pines during the long nights; a love of the grandeur and majesty of primitive strength and nature. ‘This man had been harsh and cruel with © me; yet he had been just. knew I had deserved his blows and kicks. If he had been severe with me he had also been severe with himself. He had whacked fair, and with his size and strength he could have taken all the grub. ‘Gringo,’ I said, putting my knife back into its sheath, ‘you are too much of a man for me to kill.’ ““You’re pretty much of a man yourself,’ he told me. ‘“‘And I saw him smile and the tears came into his eyes—not with the pain which was racking him, but with gladness that I had "comic Deep down I : iv ——— epook KS. com