Adventure Magazine Cover — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

William Johnson that the French were-_rushing reenforcements to Ticonderoga. A comet ora falling star would then be translated as a Great Head. But the “little black man” was baffling. The boy Brant had told his people of Putnam’s ~ attack on the sorcerer’s lodge. “Now something had been seen that im- pressed the Mohawks with the fancy that the Potawatomi had merely changed his shape and now walked the earth, seeking revenge. Something had been seen at dusk by the Mo- hawk scouts; something so evasive that after repeated efforts to run it down the Indians had explained their failures by pronouncing it supernatural. But as there must be a definite explanation for its presence near the lake the next step was to link it with Putnam’s slaying of the sorcerer, the most recent event of interest to the friendly Indians. Now the nature of the phenomenon and the reason for its being were adequately explained. eee “THAT’S the Indian of it,” he mused. “See something; try to catch it and can’t. It becomes a spirit—spirit of man just killed. Back to kill some one. That some one is me. “They try to catch it just after sundown several times, but it gets away. Then it must have a mighty good hiding-place. Then they must ’a’ seen it in the same place every time. Couldn’t have hiding-places all over the coun- try prontiscuous that a Mohawk couldn’t find. Yet I guess after the first time or so they didn’t hunt very close. Now where did they see it?” His lowered gaze noticed the rude outlines traced in the earth by Running Wolf. Ashe looked down on the marks they became famil- iar. Stepping to where the Indian had stood, _ he beheld: “Stubborn. Wouldn’t speak right out in meeting. Probably afraid it would bring him bad luck. So he drew a map with his foot,” mused Putnam. ‘‘That irregular line on the right is Shone Creek. The dab at the bottom of it is old Fort Anne. Then the straight up- and-down line must be the road from Fort Edward to the lake. And the horseshoe is the head of the lake. And that’s where the mysteri- ous little critter of a black man walks at sunset. “Well, we must see if he’s walking tonight. © The Mohawk must ’a’ been impressed mighty strong to hunt me up and give me the warning.”’ ‘The distance to the creek was about ten miles, and the sun was four hours high. Exam- ining his gun and tightening his belt, he set off ata round pace. Where the trail swung in toward Fort William Henry he made a détour and struck into the Fort Edward road below the fort. The road ran through a swamp, and - once clear of this he struck off southeast in a direct line for the abandoned fort. The Bushfighters 45 The more he turned it over the more puzzling - it became. The appearance of the man in black had been persistent and confined to one locality, else the superstitious fears of the Mohawks would not have been aroused. The disappearance of the mysterious being must have been marked by an abruptness and a completeness that had nonplused the Indians. In fact, inimitable hunters of men as they were, . the Mohawks must have been so thoroughly. startled that they could account for their failure only by ascribing it to the supernatural. Putnam approached the clearing around the fort with all his cunning, hoping,to glimpse the ~ man in black although the sun still rode the horizon. So softly did he tread that he all but stepped on a fox dozing behind a log. hopped across his path without taking fright. On reaching the end of the woods he halted ‘and from behind the shelter of a tree looked out on the bush-ground clearing. On the banks of the creek and directly opposite his position were the remains of log ramparts and earthwords. and fallen timbers—all that were left of the old post. From his hidden position he studied each clump of bushes, seeking some sign of motion among their branches. Except as a_ bird lighted on topmost twig or hunted for seeds on the ground, there was no suggestion of life. Insect life droned heavily over the sun-soaked spot, but no birds took the air in fear of what was hidden under alder and cherry branches. ““Deader’n last year’s fires,” decided Putnam, hesitating whether to cross the clearing by one of the winding paths or to circle it under cover of the forest. While he was debating the question he pricked his ears to a shrill, sweet bird-call. A few months back he would have accepted it as genuine. But a mating-song at the end of Summer? “Cleverly done,” he softly whispered. ‘And yet not so cleyer after all. An Indian would know better. If that’s the ghost in black then it never gave that signal within hearing of a Mohawk. Expecting some one. Perhaps seen me and thinks I’m that some one.” He was tempted to essay an answer to the call, but instead began moving around the clearing and keeping well within the forest. He discoverd nothing to increase his suspi- cions until he came to a narrow lane that marked an early road from-the Hudson to the old fort. This was grown up to briers and bushes and was slashed by the last rays of the sun. He had halted and was weighing the. risk of being seen should he cross it, when he was startled to discern a figure slip behind a tree across the way. It was only a glimpse, scarcely more than a consciousness of motion, as one gets from the corner of the eve. He believed the figure was thin and garbed in COMMICOOOKS Rabbits - (C@) One d fy eit : a 4a) EN Me A MARAIS he C0 a ; Ss : i an yah! c ihe aie Yoh a8 atlas 9 i ws ) ' vy ” f f Ae ey eae Se TO: Mee aN