Adventure Magazine Cover — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

& The Last Wolf to the winds, lest they bring unheard the blood-curdling, echoing, careless howls of wolves on the hunting-trail, lusting for the flesh of man! | He heard many sounds that made him start and shudder. Clutching his rifle and his side-arms, he followed his fearsome line, with traps set for marten, mink, fisher and such beasts. He saw no more wolf signs, nor heard, for sure, a wolf upon the hunting- trail. At the same time the green timber would never be the same again for him.. He had seen where a noble buck had been pulled down in the deep snow and torn to pieces by a fanged, famished, red-jawed _ wolf—none other than Crook Paw, the rascal outlaw for whose terrible crimes the very bears themselves shrank from him, leaving him to pursue his gaunt, cruel, devastating way. TRAPS GET EIGHT OF THE NINE WOLVES TRAIL . . ora o3 cabins, with humans waiting around the fires for Spring to come—the Chinook to open up the frozen land. Around each hay- stack was a high barbed-wire fence. The elk and sheep were wandering around in these valleys, and then when Crook Paw CELEGRATION TOWN DEPUTY OS SHERIFF ROYTER WISIKERS SHEEP TRANS MISGOUR! ——» / CLAY River PIRE ‘ : PILL \ ¥f 2 BAD pows wi mouse \ LANDS \ 2 DEPUTY SHERIFF CLUBHAUS FINDS WOLF ‘rRAcKS ,/ BRAVE s SCHOOL if 2 TEACHER S 4 vf “A ;% 4 STARVING ELKS \ “o<— NESTERS \ HIP RUNTER “a < — NESTER LARENS »\+]— > ~ —— ALFALFA PATCH / } Siena laine ( SNOW AY ‘ \ , CONTINENTIAL DIVIDE NINE WoLves Sa TR Foe OFTHE go N PAZUMS LF RANGE. nd 2 ee ¥- / DESERT «RANCHES ART COUSE'S 4 LINE OF TRAPS The LAST WOLF =, PRICKLY PEAR PATCH OF WOLF DOGS Art Couse made a special trip out to the settlements to buy more cartridges, obtain a better automatic pistol and give fair warning. Crook Paw had crossed the Continental Divide and was likely at any time to come raging down into the fair prairies of the Trans-Missouri Empire. And Crook Paw, stepping gingerly over wind-blasted snows, rambled on. He shiv- ered amid the desolation above the timber- line and shambled through the evergreen forests till away down the slopes he found where there was a happy hunting-ground such as he had never dreamed of. There at the borders of the timber was a herd of game. Deep snow had driven elk and mountain sheep down from the heights. When they reached the lower limits of forested wilder- ness they found that the hay, wild fodder of the meadows and sidehills, had all been carefully reaped and cut close. The snow- covered mounds of hay stood in the midst of clearings and along valley bottoms. Here and there five thousand feet below were log came among them he was amazed to find that when he set upon these huge brutes, gay skippers in the Summer forests, they ran upon weak legs—stumbled forward with their noses in the snow when he rushed upon them and tore the living flesh from ‘their hams. Crook Paw had begun to have a pretty poor opinion of this world. He had found no creature of his own kind, heard no an- swering howl to his lonely cries flung across the landscape. Now he found all that he could eat, for the mere biting. He tore at the throats of gaunt elk, and he ate into the sides of the weakened mountain sheep. With the careless delight of his kind Crook Paw took to wandering around with his paunch distended with more meat than he had had since he found the jack-rabbit and cottontail runway out of the alfalfa field. The humans, in their cabins, were miles away, far down the mountain range. Some one came up with a pair of bobs and a team of horses to haul a load of hay from one of those barb-wired fenced-in stacks. (EO PMIG KOO KS G OP on ce on EAS tle, Po tare Sg 83 . 2 et att eS oe. ae ee PIKE eR Pines ee 5 Oe Se eRe tS ES od We, MU a eB (E(@)