Adventure Magazine Cover — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

2 4 ee pe ee ee Te eee ee, 6 eg se a aoe sy +. Sie GS cer onc Deng Se eae ee yh - mi é UMAR dem. Ns —_. b “You give me the creeps,” sleepily said Dinsdale. They had rigged an extra blanket over some low-hanging branches as a protection against the dew and Dinsdale crawled under this and was soon asleep. Scissors remained for another hour, blinking at the coals and absent-mindedly playing with the scissors. A long-eared owl called to the eye of the fire and a timber-wolf howled dismally. Covering the coals with gravel the picture- man crawled in beside his companion. Bae SUNRISE was free from fog and E90 the two were up with the first light used and eating their prepared food. Scissors was still apprehensive of danger, for he would have no fire kindled. They went without coffee, and the omission made Dinsdale sullen. Scissors led the way down the eastern slope and turned a bit south be- fore he found the old trail over a low sand- stone ridge that extended west and east. Shortly before noon they rode through the dry bed of Elk Creek and by midday arrived at Bear Creek. They had talked but little, neither being in the mood, and they had seen no signs of white men or red. Out over the plains turkey-buzzards were cir- cling, attracted to some unfortunate human or animal. Halting at Bear only long enough to rest their mounts and swallow some meat and bread they entered a wide valley, running north and south, with Bear Butte showing six miles ahead. They camped on the lower fork of Bear Butte Creek and Dinsdale’s mood improved when Scissors kindled a fire and placed the coffee on to boil. Scissors, too, was in a better humor and he made an elaborate picture of the flat-topped butte. Dinsdale recounted what Pyrites had told him about the butte, and Scissors became very impatient, and at last interrupted: “Pyrites is a fool. What does he know about Mato tipi? Only what some one has told him; what I have told him while he loafed and drank in San Juan Joe’s place. Did he tell you how the Teton tribes went there to worship Tunkan, their stone god? No. Did he tell you some of the Indians say it is their oldest god because it is the hard- est? Not unless I have happened to tell him. While Wakantanka is the great mys- terious one, the Tetons fear Tunkan more. The Great One is too far off. Tunkan is al- ways Close at hand. : Adventure : ‘And there are other mystery places more wakan than Mato tipi. There’s the quarry of the sacred pipe-stone near the Big Missouri, where they make their wakanda calumets. There is Minne-wakan, or Dev- i’s Lake, north of the Missouri, and the Mandan and Hidatsa had a very powerful medicine rock near the Yellowstone. Py- rites talking about mystery places! Pooh! He doesn’t even know that Tunkan is the greatest of the dry earth gods. When he finds boulders painted red and green he doesn’t know the Indians did it.to worship Tunkan. Ask him about the children they used to take to the top of Mato tipi so they might place small stones in\the branches of the pines and he can’t tell you a thing. “Why, old Iron Pyrites couldn’t even tell you how they cut up a deer, or a buf- falo, in the wakan way; how they leave the horns on the skull and redden the skin, and how they make a bed of wild sage for the skull to rest on. Or that a new knife must be used and the hide stripped off in a particular way. That man is crazy over hunting gold. He doesn’t know enough to keep what he finds. He probably believes the Indians wear their feather bonnets when in their camps. I wouldn’t be surprized if he even believed that.” “What are they saying about me in Dead- wood City, Scissors?” The query was such an abrupt digression from their former talk that the picture-man seemed to be befuddled for half a minute. He stared at Dinsdale stupidly while his wits tried to formulate an answer. At last he blurted out: = “You ain’t blamed for killing Bandy Allen. Some men whisper that you’re a road-agent. Others offer to bet you’re a train-robber.”’ “low would you bet?” 3 ‘“Train-robber,’’ was the prompt reply; and Scissors reached in his pocket for another piece of paper. “You have more style in throwing money around than the agents have.”’ “Still you think it’s safe for me to go back to town?” “Tf Pyrites was asked that he’d have to squirm and twist and then say he didn’t know. But I’m a mystery man. I see things other folks don’t see. There’s a woman who’d do you harm, yet she’d act foolish if you’d be kind to her. She’s talk- ing and trying to make medicine against (E(0) NOOLES AME (@ im