Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

ites of _.. Cleavage % LRatrick Greave Author of ‘‘Two of a Kind,” “Thicker ihan Water,” HE Major let the magazine—it was an English weekly and open at the Society Notes—fall from his hand and heaved a deep sigh. Jim, the Hottentot, looked up quickly from his task of putting a final polish on the Major’s riding-boots. “The baas is sick?” - The Major nodded his head wearily. “Aye, Jim. Sick of all this.” With a wave of his hand he indicated the sun-scorched veld. “Pll mix the baas some mouti—whisky and quinin.’”’ How Jim did stumble over that word. “It will make the baas feel dike a new,man.’’ “Tt’s not a body sickness but a soul sick- ness that troubles me, Jim.” Jim was puzzled. Never before had his beloved-baas talked so strangely. ‘““A sickness of the soul, baas?’’ he said wonderingly, and picked up the paper which the Major had dropped. ‘‘This then must be evil medicine. I will cast it on the fire and thus shall the evil spirits be driven from thee.” The Major made no effort to prevent Jim from burning the paper though he had read but half of it and English papers: were as manna in the wilderness in those days of infrequent mails. He smiled grimly as a passing breeze spread the ashes of the paper thither and .yon about the veld. “Tt is not thus, Jim,” he said, “that the evil spirit is destroyed. Hast ever dreamed?” ~“Many times, baas,’ Jim answer promptly. “But last night’ 1 dreamed I was a powerful chief. Cattle I had; more numerous than the sand of the river-bed; three-score wives dwelt in the shadow of my hut and called me lord. Aye, three- score wives brewed beer for me to drink. I was thirsty and I beat upon the drum that beer might be brought me. Then | awoke. The beating of the drum was; in very truth, a peal of thunder, and barely time had I to get within the shelter of the tent ere came the rain. I was thirsty no longer!” The Major laughed. “But the dream is still with thee?” “Aye,” assented Jim sorrowfully. dream is still with me; the beer is not.” ‘And so it is with me. The paper which thou hast destroyed brought me dreams; the dreams are still there.”’ ‘Is there aught the baas desires, that the baas has not?’ jim asked incredulously. ‘Thou hast food enough and drink; all the veld is_open to thee and none shall say to thee ‘stay,’ when thou desirest to go; and none say ‘go’ when it. is thy will to stay. Can there bé anything lacking?” ‘There is-one thing lacking. What do men call me?”’ . “White men call thee, ‘the Major,’ and we black ones, ‘the Just One,’ ‘the Wise One,’ or yet again, ‘the Man of Single Heart,’ and—thou art my baas.” ‘‘The “T have vet another name. That ye do ° not know and shall not know, lest ye Iol 3 Go NOOLS = a (C@