Adventure Magazine Cover — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

2 Adventure The Yank went for his with a leap, one hand on the neck and one on the withers, and he was in the saddle, feeling for: his stirrups. The other watchman clambered aboard his mount, who began to rear. and crash about in the underbrush. or ‘Give the sargint a ’and, will you?" he cried to the Yank. ‘& The Yank shoved his horse over to'the sergeant and reaching over, seized the horse’s halter. close with the spur, he extended his hand to the other man, and swung him into the saddle. “Quiet the ’orses,” panted the sergeant. ‘I’m intendin’ to see ’oo this is. Swords out, all. Be ready to charge when I give the word. Let up on the curb! ’E’ll never quiet if you keep a-haulin’ on ’im like that!’ A tall horse which had been turning end for end and rapping his rider’s legs against every tree in the clump, feeling the pain of curb and chain relax, relaxed himself and looked about, snorting. There was a moment’s silence. On the road could be heard a steady clop, clop, clop of trotting horses, a jingle of chain and scabbard, and as the riders drew nearer, the rattle of accouterments and the slap-slapping of saddle pockets. The sergeant stretched his arm over his horse’s head and waggled his sword to clear his sleeve. The Yank softly slipped his foot home in the stirrup and clenched his teeth. His heart hammered wildly and he looked straight ahead past his horse’s ears, to a patch of sunlit road. When that road blackened with an uhlan, | the Yank would sink his spurs and go out there like a thunderbolt. He gripped his sword so tightly that his hand pained him. The tall horse neighed shrilly, the sounds of trotting stopped almost instantly. Thwack went the sergeant’s legs on his saddle skirts, and the four men shot from the grove in a thunder of hoofs. “Too soon,” thought the Yank, ‘‘too soon. They’ll have their lances down and — help us!” He was out of the trees and lying along his horse’s neck, squinting down his sword- blade at six or seven men on the road clus- tered in a heap, their horses’ heads every which way, some spurring madly, some tug- ging at their swords, some looking open- mouthed at the charging British. Sun and Then, holding his own horse : dust and the glitter from his sword ob- scured his sight, but ‘the Yank headed for the black of the men in the road and spurred his horse again. “Hold up!” roared a voice. Friends all!” “Old up!” echoed the sergeant. ‘“’Old up! "Ware swords! it, pull down them ’orses!”’ , THE Yank put his own point in air and tried to pull up. The horse dashed into the group on the road, collided heavily with a cursing trooper, crunched the Yank’s knee against a saber scabbard, and came to a plunging halt. Qne ofthe other horses reached out a searching hoof and plastered the Yank’s horse in the chest. More plunging and snorting and language. | “Look sharp wi’ that “Hold up! pin o’ yours,” panted the man with whom the Yank was entangled. ! The Yank held his sword high in the air, swung his horse’s head ‘and shoved out into the ditch. In the middle distance was the tall horse that had whinnied, head down and tail in the air, drumming straight for the woods, his rider futilély sawing at the reins. Midway between horse and road a sword still quivered, hilt upward, where it had fallen from the rider’s hand and stuck into the ground. “Ride him!” yelled the Yank. “Sit on him; trooper!’ = +s. “Shut up,” cried the men. ‘Wot are you about?” emt: “Who’s that giving a view halloo?” inquired a stern voice:' “Come over here! What are you thinking of, man, to be giving tongue like that?”’ The Yank approached the owner of the voice. An officer, he saw at once, and a subaltern, in all the glory of one pip. The officer produced his glass and inserted it in his eye. Then he proceeded to chill the Yank with a stare. The Yank got his tongue between his front teeth and chewed upon it until he could speak without laughter. Then he said very respectfully— “One of our men is being run away with.”’ He pointed, but the tall horse was gone. “He'll come back, I fancy,” said the officer. ‘You should have better control of your patrol, sergeant. Yelling and run- ning away and charging about are not evi- dences of the best discipline. You’re from COMICMOOCKS. C@