Adventure Magazine Cover — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

140 continued to moan and the falling snow like an evil wraith enveloped him, filled his eyes and his nostrils, and piled in ever deepening drifts across the way ahead. (gees =A MAN less versed in woodcraft than Moose Bill might have found it dif- ficult to locate his cabin in the storm and darkness even when he arrived opposite it, but Bill was not to be fooled. At exactly the right place he turned off from the river, dragged himself and his burden up the bank and into the cabin. He was home at last. He threw Shorty on to the bunk and built a fire in the sheet-iron stove, filled the coffee-pot with chopped ice, and put a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat into the oven to thaw. Then he sat down and felt of his numb foot. It was indeed numb. He cut the strings of the moccasin and bared the foot. The flesh from the ankle down was as hard and cold as the foot of a marble statue. He fetched a pan of snow, placed the foot in it and began to rub vigorously. Shorty raised up on the bed and threw off his overcoat. “Oh, , I’m hungry!” he whined. “Can’t you bring me something to eat?” ‘Keep your shirt on! There’ll be some grub ready in a minute.” Bill continued to rub his foot. For many moments he worked at it steadily. Shorty again became impatient. “What you doing? Did your toes get nipped?”’ ‘“‘Reckon they did.”’ Bill ceased rubbing the foot and again examined it, pinching it here and there and bending the toes with his fingers. Finally he drew the sock back on and went about preparing supper. For hours that night the sleepless Shorty, writhing with the pain of his injured ankle, listened to the breathing of the big man beside him and envied Moose Bill his deep, untroubled sleep. E Several times the following day Bill re- moved his moccasin and examined the in- jured foot. Shorty noticed that he limped when he placed it to the floor. “Toes hurt you?” he inquired. “Yep. Some.” “Well, you can thank your stars you haven’t got a sprained ankle. You’d know what real pain was if you did have.” Toward evening Bill took an old hand- Adventure saw from a peg on the wall and spent an hour filing it and cleaning the rust from the sides. That night it was Bill who writhed in pain, and Shorty fretted peevishly because it kept him awake. When morning came Bill got up and prepared breakfast for Shorty. He ate nothing himself. Shorty saw that his right foot was swathed in a cloth, and that he hobbled painfully about the room. “You look sick,’’ he remarked. are the toes coming?” “They are coming, and —— quick too. Can vou get up today?” ‘““Guess I could if necessary.” ‘Well, it’s necessary. Roll out and get your clothes on.” With a great deal of grumbling Shorty sat on the edge of the bunk dressing when he noticed Bill put a pan of water on the stove and place the old saw in it. ‘““‘What the deuce are you up to nowe” “You and I are going to do a little butchering today,’ Bill answered with a sickly grin, and began to whet a razor. “Butchering! Are you crazy? Where’s there anything to butcher s He suddenly started upright to his feet entirely forgetful of the injured ankle in the horror of the thought that had burst upon him. “Let me see—let me see— Your foot! Oh, my God!” Bill had drawn away the cloth and ex- posed to view his frozen foot, swollen to twice its normal size and a ghastly blue- black in color. Shorty sank back groaning upon the bed and buried his face in the robes. Bill calmly went on with his honing. When the water in the pan boiled he placed the razor in it and called to Shorty. The only answer was another groan. Bill snatched a stick of wood from the pile back of the stove and heaved it against Shorty’s ribs. “Come out of that, you white-livered runt. None of your baby antics go around here!” “No, no! I won’t! I can’t doit! You sha’n’t do it—it isn’t necessary—I’l] get a doctor!” ‘Another blat out of you and I’ll cave your head in!” Bill hobbled toward the bed, the handle of a huge double-bitt ax clutched in his hands. “How COMicooo® S C@