Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

as wagon, leaving his rifle behind, walked down the trail a few rods and held up an empty hand. The medicine man checked his pony and loudly called— “Can any white man stand in the path of a bullet or arrow and turn it aside?” “T can,” promptly claimed Joe in Kiowa. Then over his shoulder to Reason: “They’re lettin’ a new warrior try out th’ iron shirt, Tommy. Don’t let any one chip in ‘less they try to jump me.” “Then come to me and my medicine will eat you up,” boasted the rider. Joe cast a swift glance up the ridge and saw that the Arapahoes had ascended the slope out of range and were interested spectators of the scene. The Kiowas were still grouped in the far background, eager to witness the outcome of the meeting. The warrior began singing a narrative of his life, rehearsing all his brave deeds and claiming that he was immune to death.’ As he chanted his pony pranced and curv- etted, drawing closer to the trapper very gradually. With his hand on his belt Joe slowly advanced. The buckskin shirt worn over the iron harness caused the warrior to appear.to be a very powerful man. The trapper called out— “Walking Wolf is careless to let a boy wear his medicine.” The warrior reached over his shoulder and pulled several arrows from their quiver. Two of these he held in his mouth, and two he thrust into his mass of hair. The fifth he set on the string. Then with a kick and a yell he urged his pony toward the trapper. The superb bow of bois d’arc sent the arrow with almost the speed of a bullet. It whistled across the trapper’s shoulder Another was on the string and the bow drawn nearly to the ear when the trapper fired from his hip. at the pony, hitting him in the flank ‘and causing him to rear madly; and the arrow sailed harmlessly toward the clouds. During the few seconds in which the Indian was compelled to devote all his at- tention to controlling his mount the trapper ran to close quarters. In desperate haste the Indian loosed an arrow that tore a hole through the fringed skirt of the trapper’s buckskin shirt. Then with a shout of defiance the Indian stretched out his arms to give a clear path to his breast, but the Adventure trapper fired at the bronzed throat and the wearer of the iron shirt fell forward on his pony’s neck as limp as a bag of meal. The trapper ran to catch the pony; but the intelligent animal wheeled and raced down the trail, carrying his dead master’s body beyond the white man’s reach. Shouts and cheers from the wagons were returned by doleful howling and screams of rage from the Kiowas. The Arapahoes remained silent and made no move to join in a second attack. The Kiowas began trotting sedately toward the wagon, saving their speed until within strikirng-distance. Joe stalked to- ward the wagons, too proud to run, yet listening most keenly for the telltale sound of hurrying hoofs. Now to his amazement Tom Reason rode from behind the wagon and cantered to meet him. “Git back, ye idiot! I don’t need any help!” cried Joe. ‘Never say ag’in that that snake medicine ain’t a hummer!” greeted Reason, holding something up in his hand and waving a white rag with the other. “Git back! What ye up to with that white rag? They won’t pay no ’tention to it, I tell ye. They’re comin’ with blood in both eyes. ’Rapahoes don’t want to takea hand. Under th’ wagon, I tell ye.” “They’ve stopped. All but two have dropped back. They’ll talk even if they won't smoke. I tell ye th’ snakeskin is backin’ me. I’m goin’ to play it out.” With a spring Joe gained the horse and vaulted up behind his partner. Then he cheerfully said: “All right. Two of ’em. Two of us. Go ahead. But what ye expect to do with a bottle o’ rainwater beats me.” | “Snake medicine told me to do it,” solemnly replied Reason as he slowly ap- proached the representatives of the Kiowas. With great boldness he advanced until within a rod of the two warriors, one of whom was old Walking Wolf, now very angry that the iron shirt had failed to pro- tect life. Walking Wolf was spokesmen. Haughtily he demanded: ‘Do you come to say you will give up your guns and wagons? Or must we kill you all except the woman?” For once Reason was forced to talk, as Joe had no idea what he contemplated.’ He gravely replied: Gomichbook (C@