Adventure Magazine Cover — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

Tupahn the Thunderstorm do not know a thing that is known to every child of your tribe? Then you are a fool, without eyes or ears or brain.” . The eyes under the greasy black hair glinted angrily. But the priest made no retort. Senhor Tom spoke to us. “Men, he can not tell truth because his tongue is forked. If the fork were burned off the end of his tongue he then could speak straight. Heat your knives in the fire until they are red. Then slice away that thing that twists the truth in his mouth.” I held my machete out over the blaze, though not init. The Indian started, swung partly around, found Pedro’s knife-point at his ribs, and turned slowly back. He licked his lips, stared at the gleam of the fire on my blade, and grunted rapidly: “My tongue is straight. can talk no more.” If it-burns it “Better talk not at all than talk falsely,” , was the grim answer. “But if your tongue now has become straight we will spare it— fora time. Why was the prisoner not given to us this morning?”’ “Tupahn would have killed.” “Ah. You did not want killing. Why?” “Because more killing would follow. The men of Andirah would strike back. Tupahn and his men would kill more. Then they would be killed. Many killings over one worthless prisoner.”’ There was a pause. ‘The words sounded true. We remembered the spearmen with red-tipped weapons; remembered the Bat’s jealousy of his rule. To slay the captive of Andirah would_have been more than likely to anger the chief into ordering his men to attack us. In that case, as the priest said, we should have been killed, taking with us in death as many as we could. Yet—was the reason this man gave us the true one? “Then this captive is not to be killed,” said Senhor Tom. “What is to be done?” “TI have not said he will not be killed. If he is killed it will be by order of Andirah, who alone has the power to command it.” I sniffed, recalling how this pajé had given most of the orders that day. The memory aroused again my suspicion that he was steadily lying. Soon this distrust of him became much stronger. “Flow does the prisoner look?” the North American demanded. The reply was so prompt that it seemed as if the Indian had been expecting it. “A tall man. Yellow of face. A thick 29 mouth, the eyes of a boh—snake—and the nose of a hawk. For a moment we were quiet. Into our minds came the thought of the man whose bones we had found on the bank above the rusty rifle; the skull with the bullet-hole, | the knife with four nicks, and the words of the senhorita. She had described just such a man as this pazé now told of. And the priest did not know that man was dead. I expected Senhor Tom to roar out at the liar, but he did not. Instead, he acted pleased. “So the men of the Bat have caught that one? It is well. A loud-voiced beast who carries a knife with a brown handle and four nicks on the blade? The mate of the-dog killed by the men of Andirah? Is it so?” “Tt is so, Tupahn,” the priest agreed. “Both have done evil to our people. The short, one died quickly. The tall one may not die so fast.” | ' He talked more easily now, and held him- self'as if gaining confidence. Senhor Tom’s eager tone had fooled him into thinking us deceived. And when the North American smiled as he spoke to us in English the priest began to swell with his usual arrogant look. He would not have felt so easy if he. had understood the words. “ve caught him,” said the explorer. “Caught him in a-cold lie. Now maybe I can jolt him.” Changing back to Tupi, he roared: ‘““Snake-tongued priest! That man is dead! His bones lie beside a creek near the lake of Black Hawk. I myself have seen them. Now indeed you shall pay the price of your lies. Heat your knives, men!” The pajé stood as if frozen. For a long minute he seemed not to breathe. Then he came to life with the suddenness of a bullet leaving a gun. Straight through the fire he jumped. Straight on he bounded past the tambo. As we sprang after him he vanished among the trees toward the creek. cy INTO ‘those trees we plunged in Sees pursuit. Twice we heard him stum- ble and fall, tripped by something in the dark, but before we could find him he was up and away. We too bumped trees and fell over roots. Then we halted. From the water came a loud splash. ““Gonel”’ Pedro panted. “Back and get lights!” ~ comichbook com —