Adventure Magazine Cover — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

aa i ECP NERY EW RTE E Ate RACE OE RRR GEES rey : ’ ah es) ¥ ‘ > Hs ™¥ ss he be et Pee Bie Kul Brave kill!” and landed by the side of Willis. The latter was - gazing wildly on the scene. With blows of his ax Putnam freed him and then pushed him toward the girl’s hiding-place. A warrior unhampered by a dog ran toward them. Putnam saved his head by driving the butt of his gun into the evil face. A dog leaped up on Putnam and caught him by the Seullen The ranger hoarsely commanded him to “down.” A glimmer of sense reminded the maddened creature that this was a friend, and he swerved back to where the hunting was legitimate. Pushing and half-carrying Willis, the ranger got him under cover and into the caressing hands of the weeping girl. “Get him out of here. Down the trail. We'll pick you up,” panted Putnam. And he was back to the fight. Now the Indians were beginning to battle more valiantly. The edge of the surprize was worn off. All were armed with axes and knives; ’ and as Putnam ran in he saw several of the dogs stretched out dead, one of the leaders lying with his teeth through the throat of the brave who had stabbed him through the heart. Of the surviving dogs several were mortally wounded but were still able to do mischief. Had each brute selected a warrior and after finishing him made for another, the pack would have soon whipped the Indians. But some con- tinued to worry dead bodies; two would unite in mauling a warrior already dying. The Potawatomi found themselves free to glance about and inventory the situation. Young Brant gave ground, while from his lips repeatedly pealed the terrible war-cry of his people. As a dog made a kill he would fren- ziedly shout: “Here do you receive it! Kul” Putnam shot a Potawatomi through the head as he was about to hurl his ax at the lad, and the latter yelled back to him— “He who dwells in the sky shall be pleased with you, white man.” Putnam swung his gun by the barrel and bat- tered a way to the youth, caught him by the arm and commanded: “Come away. Most of the dogs are dead.” “See! See! Another kill!’ shrieked the boy, tossing up his bow and twanging the empty string. “Kul” It was the second of the leaders. Torn and stabbed until barely able to stand, he had reared up by a supreme effort and caught a bronzed throat and with a final effort closed the vise and extinguished the savage life. Putnam seized the boy by leg and shoulder, threw him on his back and raced for cover. “T can not leave them. Let me go,” screamed the boy. Then to the surviving dogs: “Let him have it! Let him have it! Kul 72 | Adventure “You young devil!” panted Putnam, swing- | ing Brant to the ground and tearing the boy’s hand from his hair. ‘Trying to scalp me? Can’t you remember you are a Mohawk? Be you a wild, Western Indian that hoots and howls and loses his head? - “The dogs are done fer. There'll be eight or ten warriors left. We must get the girl and the man out of this.” “T am a Mohawk. Take your hand from me,” gasped the boy. “You have acted like a mighty war chief. Your name will be sung in many Mohawk cas- tles,” warmly declared Putnam. “But it must not be said you let the man be recaptured after setting him free. The girl is trying to get him ust of the gorge. She will need help. Where is ur gun?” nL oar and at the mouth of this be I left it to handle the dogs. We will g They reached the edge of the aoe where Willis had joined the girl, and glanced back. The fight was still in progress around the stake, seven or eight Indians striking knives and axes at the few surviving dogs. “A -round dozen Indians dead or badly wounded,” rejoiced Putnam. ‘T’others ain’t got much fight left in them. Now to find the girl and Willis.” Once away from the camp-fire, the night closed them in a closet; but the cry of the loon needed no torch, and the first signal was promptly answered from down the gorge. From the fluttering, nervous timbre Putnam knew the girl had answered instead of Willis. They ran as fast as the woods and the dark- ness would permit, Putnam occasionally giving the signal so the fugitives would not mistake them for the enemy. After they had passed out of the gorge the girl called to them softly, and they found her seated with Willis’ head in her lap. “Ts he dying?” she faintly asked. “He don’t dare die after all the trouble we’ve took and after all the dogs we’ve used up,” growled Putnam. ‘Joseph Brant, take my hat and bring water. You'll find some somewhere.” As the boy departed there came from the gorge the death-cry of the Potawatomi, an- nouncing the end of the fearful conflict. “Good dogs!’ mumbled Putnam. “They . had a glorious finish. Now I wonder if the red- skins got enough, or will try to follow us.” “Water!” faintly whispered Willis. The bushes rustled, and young Brant handed Putnam the hat brimming over with water. Putnam allowed the sufferer to drink half, and poured the rest over the scorched head and face. Handing the hat back to the boy, he directed: “Fill it again and overtake us on the trail. Only a Mohawk chief could find water on a night like this. ‘Come, Ephraim Willis. No more time for fooling. You've got to travel.” Gomicbook