Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

1096 live in this cursed Swiss wilderness shall forbid, He had been on his rock some half-hour when voices reached him through the fog. He looked about him, startled. The voices moved nearer, along the path in the same direction by which he had come. He peered down as two figures came to view. A man and a woman were following the path side by side. They were young, garbed for the out-of-doors, and they spoke trivial things happily and confidently as they walked. They came to the bridge and paused a moment to watch the flurry of the moiling brook. The man on the rock above them, glaring through the mist veil, saw their faces as they leaned upon the railing. And as he saw, his body became tense, his eyes vul- pine and his smiling lips drew apart upon his white teeth. ‘“‘Here’s the two-kilometer post,” the girl was saying. ‘‘I remember. From here the Reisenweg sweeps out to girdle that bulging cliff where the pines overhang the path.”’ ‘You may also remember that your father warned us not to take the Reisenweg at all, coming back,’’ said her companion. “There have been signs of landslips following the rains.”’ “And still here we are.” “T was reluctant—you’ll bear me out in that.” “Reluctant? I had to drag you! You were all for returning by the valley path and the funicular. I shall do you justice, Mr. Hargood, for your timidity,’ she mocked at him, with a sidelong glance that was a caress. ‘‘Do you feel so unsafe here?” “Julia, I always feel unsafe with you.” In his voice was a tenderness that belied the light tone. “But I shall feel safer if we hurry on to the hotel.” “What would you do if there were a landslip?”’ she asked, perversely setting her elbows upon the rail. “Ride it, with you in my arms,” he an- swered promptly. “But really?” “T don’t know,” he said, with sudden gravity. ‘“‘Landslips are very terrible things. I suppose no man knows what he would do in face of death until he is tested.” “TY think I would chance your meeting the test,’’ she said, then went on quickly as he turned to her. ‘‘But what a fraud father is! Fancy a man who has dragged his loving Adventure daughter through untold perils by icy crags, climbing the tallest peaks on three continents, and all that sort of thing—fancy him preaching caution against a hillside promenade like this Reisenweg!”’ “But do you know what he said?”’ “Well, don’t I just! ‘Sir,’”? she said, pompously, standing back and blowing out her cheeks in adorable mimicry, “‘‘Sir, you will not mistake me when I warn you against these hillside paths. They are muddy, sir, and treacherous. The true sportsman takes no unnecessary risks below the snow-line. He seeks to measure his mettle against the vast, unyielding, but clean and even-handed forces of nature; adventuring his pygmy- might against a noble antagonist that has neither animus normercy. High spirits grow in combat with high chances; mean minds shrink before sublimity. Among the peaks, where the ice is crystal and azure and the air is sweet and undefiled—well, so one could wish to die. But to be buried in mud— pah! 99) ‘“The Major, to the life!”’ he cried, as she paused, flushed and breathless. “But I’d rather you saved it until we get back to the hotel,’’ he added. She nodded mischievously. “Of course, the hotel. That’s the attraction. I forgot your afternoon billiards with that cub broth- er of mine. By all means; let’s hurry.” ‘Julia!’”? he said, but when he reached for her hand she was already half-way across the bridge. Fy HE HAD taken a step after her wee when a low, chuckling laugh came to his ear. He stopped, glanced up and stood transfixed. From a rock in the ravine a face was grinning at him, gnome- like, unreal, hazed about by the fog. He stared, wide-eyed, and shuddered. An instant, and he flung himself away as if tearing free from a loathsome grip, and hurried after the girl. She had neither heard nor seen. She did not hear now, though her companion did, the low laugh that pursued them. “You were saying, Mr. Hargood?”’ she began innocently. He didnot answer. She glanced at him. His head was turned away toward the misty gulf of the valley. With a little flit of her tam-o’-shanter she has- tened her pace. They had reached a curve where the yellow bank was strongly ribbed with lime- CO MICLOOOKS CO