Adventure Magazine Cover — page 28: what you’re looking at

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18 act as sentinel tonight,” eagerly said Putnam. “Major Rogers wouldn’t thank me if I let you, one of his best captains, be killed while standing sentry duty at an outpost,” slowly reminded Lyman. “This is Indian work. It’s work for one of =. = -Rogers’* rangers. Major Rogers would ap- prove; and he never sends men where he would- n’t readily go,” insisted Putnam. Lyman paced back and forth a few times. Then he said: “The killings must be stopped, else the out- post must be abandoned. Not only are we losing our men but we’re poisoning their minds with a terrible fear of the red devils. If we quit the post the Long House will know about it and laugh at us and call us women, same as they laughed at us for burning our fort at _ Saratoga.” “Tt will never do to quit the post,” insisted Putnam firmly. “If we can’t stop a handful of redskins murdering our men down «here at Fort Edward we might as well quit the lakes and go back to our farms and wait to be at- tacked there.” “‘All right. You shall stand guard, but you do so on your own responsibility. Vl draft another man, so there won’t be any questions about you being asked to do post duty.” _ “Figuring I may get killed,” laughed Put- nam. Then very earnestly: “General Lyman, I ask you to reconsider. There is but one Indian in these night attacks. If there was more the whole post would be destroyed. I want to match my wits against his. If you draft one of your men he will be in my way and my chances of catching the fel- low will be greatly reduced. Let me go on alone and if he shows up you shall have his pelt this time tomorrow morning, or may you - never enjoy another noggin of rum Lyman studied the determined face, and smiled as he dwelt on the fighting jaw and the indomitable eyes. This was the Putnam who had crawled into the wolf’s den and had killed the marauder and won the name of Wolf Putnam. ~ “Tsrael, I guess you’ll do it if any one can. Go ahead, and goit alone,” surrendered the general. “‘My poor fellows have waited for the —— red to come to them. I know you'll get him if it’s possible. And now it’s settled I feel a heap easier in my mind. What are your plans?” “T haven’t any, except to go on guard and keep my ears open. Your men are all right, but their hearing isn’t up to catching Indians. T’ll match my ears against any Potawatomi, Lorette Huron, St. Francis Abnaki, or Caugh- nawaga Iroquois. May my scalp pay if I don’t bag our visitor. Now I'll scout down to the outpost and look about a bit.” An hour later he was waiting upon the leu- Adventure tenant commanding the small~post and ex-— plaining his purpose. Leaving the officer greatly relieved in mind, he entered the forest and commenced an examination of the sur- rounding terrain. The woods were.gloomy for lack of sunshine. The floor was moist and oozed water at al- most every step. Putnam followed the slope of land until he came to a’sluggish creek, whose . waters were black. Starting at a point due north of the post, he followed the creek westward until he came to a trail. At first sight one might have pro- nounced it the track of a bear, so large was — the imprint. Putnam studied it sharply, and knew that a human foot, unshod, had left the sign. He moved back from the creek until he found two impressions a stride apart. And such a stride! “A mighty big Indian,” he mused. “He had to be to carry away in his arms the men he killed. Now for the saddest part of it. Poor lads! poor lads!” And he retraced his steps to the creek and without any hesitation kneeled where the sur- face soil had broken from the bank and left ex- posed a mass of rotting roots. For nearly a minute he stared down into the inky waters; then, lying flat, he thrust down an arm, and his hand grasped an arm, and he knew where the nocturnal visitor had concealed his vic- tims. “Tf I don’t have his hair before cock-crow it'll be because he don’t show up,” he gritted be- tween his teeth. CHAPTER IV THE MEDICINE OF THE POTAWATOMI ee night was oppressively warm, and the darkness sagged like a black tent over the little clearing. Back in the woods rose the sound of some occasional four-legged prowler, while the mournful interrogation of an owl caused the men of the garrison to cease their smoking and stare at the black wall and ask themselves who the next victim would be. The witchcraft delusion was threescore years behind them, but fragments of superstitions still remained, and the influence of the dark woods, stretching across the Iroquois land and hiding many mysteries, was strong upon many a pioneer. Some -of the men whispered how the sentinels had been killed by supposedly friendly Indians, men of the Iroquois, who had taken them away to use as sacrifices in awful rites. Others ominously insisted that the secret slayer would never be caught, intimating it was something more than flesh and bone. Had Putnam realized the grotesque conjec- tures of the men he would have told them, as he GOMIGDOOKS (E@