Adventure Magazine Cover — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

120 Their meal was soon over and having caught their horses they set out across the open plain, moving swiftly to avoid travel- ing in the heat of the day. They passed small groups of grazing cattle and a kan- garoo rearing up above the tussock grass went bounding away toward the shelter of a dense clump of bushes. Their way led past the thicket and at their approach a pair of eagles arose almost from under their horses’ hoofs. Abruptly they drew rein and Rush- ton whistled mournfully, for at their feet lay the remains of three beasts that had been hacked to pieces and the flesh carried away. “Told you,” growled Lund. hunting trouble. Better go easy.” “We'll go easy later on,”’ said Rushton. “Cows cost money. We'll take it out of their hides. Come along!”’ The trail was fresh, undisguised. They followed it at a gallop, and a mile farther on they caught sight of the marauders, fifty or more, who, strangely enough, stood firm when Rushton hailed them. Short, squat, immensely broad-shouldered men, they stood in a sullen, lowering group and faced their pursuers without a trace of fear. Brutal black faces harking back to a time when man was not the Lord of Crea- tion, but a creature low down in the scale of things. Their almost animal appearance was heightened by the raised scars and welts that ornamented their bodies, and their teeth, which were filed down to sharp points as a proof that they had reached full manhood. Matted, filthy hair covered their heads and cheeks. The blood of the beasts they had killed had stained the clothing they wore and on their shoulders they carried dripping red mounds of flesh. Waist deep in the grass they turned upon the white men and one of their number carrying a short stabbing-spear stepped out to meet the horsemen. “You killed the bullocks back there?” asked Rushton. “Sure he killed ’em,” put in Lund. ‘He don’t understand——’’ “T killed bullocks,” the man answered defiantly. ‘‘People hungry—we kill. Take more soon. You——’” “T am glad you speak English so well,” Rushton went on. ‘Tell your hungry peo- ple that the next man who kills one of my bullocks——”’ “Your bullocks? No! “They’re Belong me, be- Adventure long blackfellows. All things here belong iene We take! You go or we Rushton’s hand crept down toward his holster for the native was working himself up into a state of fury. Foam bubbled at the corners of his mouth, his eyes were streaked with fiery red lines, and his broad flat nose twitched like a dog’s. “Where d’you come from?” snapped Lund. ‘‘Desert?”’ ‘“‘We people—always here—belong here. Come back for live.” The words came jerkily from the man’s lips. He glared at Rushton and shook his spear as he shouted: “You no belong here. All for me. Give horse, then you go.” A murmur of approval greeted his utter- ance. They were a tolerant people; they would let these two men live if they agreed to go away on foot. “You want us to give you our horses—is that right?” exclaimed Rushton. “But my dear man, you t “Give!” Rushton stood up in his stirrups and sud- denly bellowed at the muttering group: “Drop that meat and get out! Don’t argue. dead! Next time I catch one blackfellow running wild down here I’ ~ A howl drowned him out. The leader raised his spear—a bullet in the chest toppled him over. A black knot of shriek- ing natives leaped at Rushton’s bridle. A hurling-stick crashed into his knee but he felt no pain. He lifted his horse straight at the mob and rode it down, went through it, swerved and raced back toward Lund, who was hemmed in by a solid mass of hu- manity. He picked his men with care: Brought down three more, stunned another with a blow between the eyes. ‘Then side by side they fought clear of the pawing hands. Their guns were empty but they wheeled again and went back at a gallop, trampling underfoot those who tried to stop them. The mob broke and scattered in the long grass. Not a rustle betrayed them, they vanished and silence came back to the sun- lit plain. The dead lay in narrow troughs in the tall grass, and above the lumps of meat buzzed clouds of flies. “Listen!” cautioned Lund. ‘Do you hear?” Faint and far off, from the hidden depths Go NOOK First man raises his finger gets shot . 1@)