Adventure Magazine Cover — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

Poa) Sma tli id : , . see ON Be sre Pie Sata Soe Binge Se BS ine eae ae eee oe 64 pacified by the reflection that a Jonah must be sweated until the ’s blood runs out of his pores, carrying away the ill luck. They held him in the foretop all one watch and immediately shipped him to the wheel where the beam wind set up a counter force that tore his muscles and fagged him to crying exhaustion; then when he ran to obey a command to cast off, and mistook a topgallant sheet for a buntline, the shouts of rage wheeling above the thunder of the rent topgallant sail cursed him ‘to the deep- est hell and themselves along with him. Under driving canvas the bark rushed gloriously for the equatorial calms and sailed through them on a mast-high wind, after which she scented out the edge. of a monsoon that Jahlet swore had an unsea- sonable westerliness about it. She seemed a bride flying with the speed of trust to the false altar of Sacrifice. Uncanny, the crew said. Jahlet stared hard at the chart. In a day or two they would take aboard the island of Ceylon, whence they could run close up the coast. All in due time the lookout cried, “‘Lan’ ~ ol” and the haze collected into purple background and a tangle of tropical shore- line. Jahlet grunted ‘and tried the glass without recognition. Coastwise _ sailing brought them to a village of poor native shelters. Above one of the more preten- tious huts waved the Italian flag. The captain went ashore, his struggling mind finding this too hard to fathom. Charley scrambled on to a thwart and rowed a desperate oar. When Plack turned his head the boy was gone. A wizened, yellow- faced man greeted them listlessly. “India?” he repeated with a_ pectliar accent. ‘‘Nuh—nuh; Somaliland!” Plack rubbed his forehead. They had sailed clear to the east horn of Africa; the deviation had fooled them by the width of the Arabian Sea. He shrugged. At the water’s edge he looked about for Charley. He saw instead a row of inflamed eyes, the eyes of his crew, mad eyes that the heat and the flies were making to boil with unconcealed hatred. “Where’s Charley?” he asked, wondering over them. “The brung ’im ’ere an’ tuk ’im into the brush,’’ mouthed one. “He'll stay there, too—douse my jib!” another swore. Jahlet bellowed from the’ ship, and he put Re Ce age, em, wt Ee One tg Ce ON > gta Fe , a Se ~~ uh? s* Si a Gd I Oe wt BS Saco See ee or Mae ne oS; palin ge pits neothy SS ee aor tits. es Adventure out, gaping back at the gloomy woods. Ultimately he must look. for his son there. Why did the boy have to pry into ever- thing? Ship and son—they were all he had; and the ship no longer was his. The mate reported: “Leiken’s gone. The poor fellow busted the straps. I guess he swam for it, or else he hopped on to one of the boxes we heaved over when we anchored last night. I thought I heard a splash, too. Well, he’s gone.’ “Organize a searching party,” said the harassed captain. “Charley’s gone, too. Confound that boy’s curiosity! Leiken— pshaw! We can’t lose Leiken!” “They'll never say we added murder to bankruptcy,” growled Jahlet. “Where’s an end of this infernal luck? For’ard there! Stand by the port davits to lower away! Every man take his knife! Look alive, Baklin!” “That ain’t on the articles,” disputed the man Baklin, led on by the others. “T’ll pay you, boys!” pleaded the cap- tain. ‘There'll be something left; trust me, boys! Shore-duty I won’t ask for nothing! An extra day and duff and grog!’ He wheedled them; he rallied them; he spoke of honor and humanity. They were ready for mutiny, and the weakness of the “old man” held them from it. When he talked of paying them, they laughed aloud; but they took to the boats and rowed for the pesky shore, just the same. Leiken was a good fellow; they wouldn’t let him die because the fever had sent him off his head. If they found the boy— Their bloodshot leers were significant. Jahlet deliberately turned his back upon it. But securing native guides required finesse, not to mention the money cost, and only after tedious wrangling that had to do with the fear of bush tribes was the forlorn captain successful in enlisting succor. A muttering band, they set out on their rolling sea-legs for a profitless journey into the nowhere. They went half-heartedly, complaining of the sand and the flies, veiling dread in petulance. As they penetrated farther inshore the humidity increased; the demoralization grew by ogreish bounds. Through a wilder- ness they plodded_ hopelessly. Shapes flashed on both sides of the path; shadows found motion and glided away. A rank silence fastened upon every man so that the A CoOnnieoooks (EO)