Adventure Magazine Cover — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

IZ2 His own face was scored with rips from Dangoran’s talons; once the /black’s thighs and knees had got him in a scissors that nearly sheared the breath out of him and left his ribs sore. The savage knew every disabling trick and fought like the brute he was, striving to maim with upthrust knee to the crotch and groin, and he hurt Cole badly more than once. If anything, his wind was the better of the two, but he lacked the white man’s dynamic bursts of fury and the ring-learned trick of holding for a rest between attacks. Their breath came in sobbing bursts as Dangoran leaped back, jumping high, and Cole folloWed with hands ready to clutch or pound. The black came down squatting from a spring and lunged with his weapon at his opponent’s belly. Cole’s shirt was loose from his belt and, as he swerved aside, the end of the nolla-nolla ripped through the cloth, grazing his side as he clutched Dan- goran’s right wrist with both hands, turned, bent and flung the astounded black over his shoulder into the heart of the spinifex clump. The wrench sent the club to the ground and Cole retrieved it. Dangoran came out of the porcupine grass with his savage face convulsed with rage, looking more like beast than man, despite his comparatively hairless hide on which tiny drops of blood brought by the bayonetting grass blades showed vivid scarlet like crimson sweat. He emerged on all fours and, before he could uprear, Cole brought down the nolla-nolla with all his might where neck joined skull and Dangoran rolled limply over on the sand, red blood gushing from mouth and_ nostrils, his fingers digging into the grains, his legs beating a tattoo before they stretched out. The whole body shivered and lay still. Al- most immediately the pioneers of a column of white ants mounted the flesh mountain that biocked their path and proceeded to investigate as Cole turned, panting, to see how Reynolds fared. The Anzac’s face was bloody where the spike of the club had torn his cheek. The red stuff had dripped down over his white skin, naked from the waist up, his shirt torn completely away. There was a livid bruise over his left ribs from a side swipe of the club. He was clinging to Morbora’s wrist to prevent another blow of the heavy nolla-nolla while his right hand grasped a shortened spear with which he jabbed at Adventure the black, who cleverly warded off the blows with stiffened forearm. Morbora was getting the worst of it. Perro had torn the calf of one leg and was worrying him with springs that the native had to fend off with kicks. His foot, its sole horny as a hoof, was a good enough weapon but he had to use it blindly. The Airedale might have settled the matter more easily had he been able to leap for the throat, but there the two men opposed each other, still it was evident that sooner or later he would bring down his man, either from severed tendons or loss of blood. Cole settled the affair with Dango’s club, tapping Morbora behind the ear and dropping him. A) dragging his feet, his face gray, twisting into a grin. “Weak as a kitten,” he said. “Lucky there weren’t three of ’em.”’ The dysentery had him again in clutch and he slumped to the ground wearily. Perro went up to his master and placed his muzzle, wet with the blood of. Morbora, in Petrie’s hot palm. A dull boom came from the lava crags, half a mile away. They were blasting out the gold. ‘‘Advertising themselves,” said Petrie, affecting to make light of his condition. “They'll bring up all the blacks within sound of that—or scare them off.” “Hard to say which,” said Reynolds, squatting down as the second blast went off. “I’ve seen ’em more curious than afraid lots of times.” “‘Well,’’ said Cole, “‘we’re not barehanded now. It would be crazy to fight them by daylight against their rifles, perhaps, but I’m not going to stand it much longer. We’ve got to get medicine for Petrie, got to get grub. The gold can hang. I don’t suppose we can rush ’em but if we can hang out till dark Tom and I can snake up on ’em and club the senses out of them before they know we’re on them. They figure we’re done for. The gold’s got ’em too interested to think of anything else. They may set a watch, but it’ll only be one man, and its tough if we can’t get to him. “Think you can stick it out, Petrie, old man?”’ he asked anxiously. ‘“This place is going to be a little from now on.” Petrie nodded and Cole gave him a drink. PETRIE came round the clump, MICLOOOK C@