Adventure Magazine Cover — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

The Grand Cham , of horsemen on the plain, bands that Clavi- jo declared were Moors and pagans and Michael asserted to be Turks. One night Gian and several men stole away, to rifle houses in a village. They re- turned with poor spoil but many tales. Bembo, who had slipped off to accompany them, stoutly asserted that he had beheld a monster walking among the houses of the Moors or Saracens or whatever the heathens might be. He thought at first the animal had been sitting down, until it had moved off at the approach of the men. “Signort,” he protested, “it was still sit- ting down, yet it ran. It had thé body of a horse, spotted like a snake, the legs of a _ deer and the head of a stag. And its neck! Beshrew me, signori, may I never eat pud- ding again if its neck did not rise up from its body like Gian’s spear when he lances an apple from a peasant’s tree. Nay, it was as tall as the mast of a ship, for the monster stopped and smelled of fruit over a garden wall that was too high for us to climb.” Bembo had seen a giraffe. This interested Michael, for he had never heard of such animals in Asia Minor. After this inroad upon the inhabitants, the Venetians were shunned more than ever. A hot sun beat upon their heavy garments. The road they followed was no more than a track of deep mud. Clavijo was very unhappy. For, in spite of his brave tale, he had never before been farther east than Constantinople. And the last thing he wished was to return, a pris- oner, into the Venetian power that stretched even to Trebizond. And then came the night when, ‘en- camped at a short distance from the road, they were awakened during the last hour of darkness by the rushing sound of horses’ hoofs passing by along the road. They saw nothing of the riders, only heard the horses sweeping past with in- credible speed. Clavijo wondered fearfully what kind of men could ride at that pace in the darkness. Dawn revealed the bodies of three of his servants, their throats cut, lying by the ashes of the camp-fire. “Tt was the spirits of the waste!’’ cried Soranzi. ‘‘We must hasten; we are near the city in the sands.” The merchant pointed to thin traces of 10 145 sand in the earth. But when they looked for footprints of the assassins approaching their camp they found nothing. Nothing, that is, except the hoof-marks that were quite fresh in the road near by. Michael, however, knew that Gian’s excursion into the village had brought the pursuers. upon their tracks. Clavijo was more than a little supersti- tious.. He fancied that the fantoms he had summoned up by his words had pursued their steps. The spirits that he had in- voked had taken form. In his tale he had said that his servants met death. ‘“Hasten!” he cried. ‘‘Away from here!” The three bodies were buried in a shallow grave. There were now only eight attend- ants—Bembo, a sick servant of Clavijo who was carried in a litter, Gian and his four men and Soranzi’s servant. When the pack-animals were loaded and trudging forward, Michael reined his horse in beside the Spaniard. “Signor Clavijo,” he said softly. ‘You have left the path that we were following. By the sun, unless I am blind, you are eae us in a circle. Wherefore?” ~ The Spaniard pointed toward the site .of the distant camp. “Death is upon us. We are in the land of Gog and Magog, where djims pursue Chris- tian travelers. Oh, it is an evil day!’ “Do djims cast a dagger, a heavy pon- iard, with bronze hilt,overlaid in silver, at a Christian’s back? On shipboard?” The black eyes of Clavijo widened. “Nay, forsooth! You describe the dag. ger once owned by Gian. I have not seen it since——” “Rudolfo, your friend, threw it into the sea. Come, signor, here is need of truth.” ‘“‘As God is my witness, I have spoken the truth.” “About Cathay? And the Grand Cham?” Clavijo was silent, sullen almost. “Signor, the death of your men ends all _ ) buffoonery. You were their master “Por Dios!’ Clavijo’s full face went livid. “Do you suspect me of that? I did not do it. Nor do I-know aught of the dag- ger cast at yeu.” Michael glamced at him thoughtfully. “Then confess to me, signor, that you never saw the court of the Grand Cham.” | “Master Bearn—” Clavijo started, and drew a long breath. ‘You heard what I told the council. Have you not believed? CopniceooolkSs (S@)