Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

ea OC! 4 . tay A ‘ nm, WAY : Lah A ‘ < ‘ i a | ey 3 y e) re 4 : A ny ' ‘ b tu | se 7 | RY’ Wy 5 Wy hy — below. - flocks, the tribes move together—when there is no danger of brother slaying brother, then and only then shall we conquer.”’ AR HE LEFT the next day with an P oF 4 escort of twelve men, fully armed. His progress was slow, for the way was very bad, but his success went beyond his greatest hopes. People far south who had never heard of Kwat were impressed by the rifle party; and the interpreters, under the influence of liberal potations of trade-gin, swayed whole villages. Even the more sophisticated centers, where priest afid gendarme called regularly, volunteered their help. There was always ‘some petty trifle to be magnified—such as the depredations of wandering: cattle in the yam fields, or the loss of some good patch” of land to a colonist. The fire smoldered. Before long strange tales began to drift in to the gendarmes at their fort-like little houses along the coast. The story of the rifle theft reached them first, and Brigadier Michard, who was sent to the hills to investigate, came back empty- handed. Half-way up the mountains, where the narrow track winds and twists above dizzy heights he was suddenly stopped, for the - path was gone—crumbled away, leaving exposed the sheer, smooth rock surface How he managed to turn his snorting, trembling horse on the ledge above the abyss he can not tell to this day, but he finally reached safety without meeting a native. Later a runner came and made low ~ oObeisance before Chandar Roy where he sat in state in the cooking-house and retailed the incident. The babu smiled brightly and ordered all tracks to be cut. Then the planters complained that labor, already so scarce, was still more difficult to obtain. No more six-foot giants were com- ing down from the hills to work on the estates, and even the most faithful servants were slipping back to their villages. The missionaries on their rounds heard vague tales of,a black god, greater than all other spirits, who traveled with an army at his heels. They knew the story of Kwat and, fearing greatly for their half-tamed handed their information over to the officials. ; Chandar Roy was elusive. Guided by his small band of men he journeyed along Adventure river beds, up on the crest of hills, and through sweating forests, always avoiding the known paths, obliged at the. beginning to. risk twenty deaths where the—narrow tracks had been destroyed by willing hands. Undetected he reached the out- skirts of Nouméa, which he watched from a near-by hill-top where it twinkled in the dark with a thousand points of yellow light.. Then he turned northward, well satisfied with his campaign, ready to send out the word of command as soon as he reached Pouho again. Eight days after leaving the heights above Nouméa, they halted in a little valley, thickly studded with niaouli trees, by a stream which whispered and chuckled as it ran over its bed of round, poised stones. The trees with their silvery gray “barks and gray-green leaves, the steep mountain slopes covered in dense vegetation, and the tempered afternoon sunlight, all added to the beauty of the spot—but there was a snake in this garden in the guise of a | gendarme, and the snake lost no time in striking. He saw the little party halt and camp. He saw the gleam of the rifles in the sun- light, and, creeping closer after tethering his horse, he saw twelve men go down on their knees and adore a fat, black man witha shaved, round head. While the escort was still on its knees, he settled himself comfortably behind a boul- der and called sharply for surrender. The ceremony lost all dignity, but Chandar Roy had not toiled in vain: his men made a dash for the stacked rifles. The gendarme squinted one eye and fired, shifted slightly and fired again, and two men of Pouho leaped high, clawed at the air for support, their eyes wide with surprize, spun round and collapsed, twitching where they lay. A dozen shots answered, but the bullets flew wide, and a third tribesman crumpled and fell into the pleasant little stream which reddened slightly as the life blood poured out and mingled with its waters. That was the end of the battle of Makalo, as it was officially designated. The re- mainder of the escort flew to the hills, but Chandar Roy dashed off to the right while his men went to the left. The gendarme finally left the shelter of the boulder, lit a cigaret, and busied himself ~~’ comicbooks*cor