Adventure Magazine Cover — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Tupahn the Thunderstorm nai “50 crash the rest of the way groundward if we put our combined weight on it—but we must go somewhere soon, and we had no- where else to go. So, very carefully, we climbed toward it. When we reached it our hands were so tired that we had hard work in getting up and on it. And when we were on it we found it so trembly that we dared not try to crawl down its long slant to the ground. Tt needed only a little more quivering to make it slip off the bole and smash with us among the peccaries, who would surely fin- ish us if the fall did not. But we could stretch ourselves along its leaning trunk and rest our exhausted muscles, and we did so. Meanwhile we looked down once more at the pigs. They were moving about in a disap- pointed, ugly fashion, grunting but no Jonger squealing. Stretched along the tree as we were, our bodies were hidden from them, and probably their eyes were not good enough to make out our heads. So, as we climbed up and disappeared, there was no good reason for them to remain longer. Resting and keeping quiet, waited again for them to depart. Then, back at our camp, sounded a single shot. - We listened, but heard no more firing. Nor did we hear any other sound but the noises of the beasts under us. “Senhor Tom has beaten us in getting meat,” Pedro” grumbled. ‘Probably a monkey came along. Curse these pigs! Will they ever go?” They did not go at once, but after a time some of them wandered off. Others fol- lowed. Soon all but a few had faded away among the tall roots. Then the last ones, seeming suddenly afraid to be left behind, broke into a run and were gone. Below us nothing remained but our guns, now tram- pled and foul, and the two dead. We waited a few minutes longer to make sure they were well away. Then, with great care, I let myself over the trunk and grasped the twining vines by which we had come up. Pedro followed, not quite so carefully. He had just placed his toes and one hand on the vines when he slipped. I caught him with one hand and shoved him back against the trunk. For an in- stant it seemed that my own hold would break and we both would go down. But he caught his balance again and clung to the we vines with feet and hands like a monkey. While we were struggling we heard a grind- ing squeak, a rushing sound, a crash, and a heavy thump. Now we glanced down- ward. Below us lay the tree on which we had just rested. “A close shave, comrade,” said Pedro. “Tt fell just as I got off. That was why I slipped.” Down the trunk we worked our way until we stood safe on solid earth. There we wiped the sweat from our faces, breathed deep, picked up our rifles, shouldered a pig apiece, and turned toward the creek. lay THEN came night. (ep Darkness swiftly blotted out all but NT | the nearest trunks. Thankful that _we had only a short distance to go, we felt our way toward camp. Before long we be- gan to look for the glint of the evening fire among the trees and to sniff for the smell of wood-smoke. But we saw no light, smelt nothing but the damp forest, heard no voices among the night sounds of the wilderness. We began to hurry. We felt sure that we were going in the right direction, sure that the blurring dark had not confused us, sure that we were almost at the camp. And -we remembered that shot. All at once we stopped. Two strides from us loomed the little fambo we had thrown up for our night’s shelter. But no fire burned before it. Nothing moved, nothing spoke. “Senhor Tom!” I called softly. No answer came. “*Senhorita!”’ cried Pedro. No reply. We dropped our game and _ lighted matches. The tambo was empty of life. With more matches. glimmering, we moved across the small open space. We walked straight into the kindlings of a fire, carefully laid but unlighted. In a moment we had them ablaze. As the light grew we circled about, fear growing in our hearts. What had happened to our North American comrades? Surely they had not deserted us. Then Pedro made a harsh sound and dropped. on his knees beside a high-rooted tree. Another match flared. As I stooped beside him we looked down at Senhor Tom. Face down he lay, silent and still. His GEomichooks (E(0)