Adventure Magazine Cover, October 30, 1924 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

Om 129 Ommony let Diana stay behind there making friends. He chuckled to himself. There were few but him who knew the pos- sibilities of that dog. Having once estab- lished in her mind that certain individuals were friends, he would have no particular difficulty in using her to penetrate any screen the lama might contrive. There was no further need to risk an issue with the lama by appearing overcurious; he could wait for opportunity and let Diana open up communications. Meanwhile it would not have helped him in the least to be inquisitive just then. The tunnel turned again and grew pitch dark— became a stream of echoing noise in which a man could feel his way only by touching the man next to him or elbowing the wall, letting himself flow forward as it were in the general movement, which some forgot- ten sense reported to the brain. Then dim light far ahead, and at last a glimpse of sky, framing half a dozen stars, that made the tunnel seem even darker and a backward glimpse impossible. Diana came sniffing for Ommony and shoved her nose into his hand, as if to reassure him that the people at the rear really were friends. Then she suddenly bayed at the sight of the sky in front and raced away to investigate. Ommony did his best to memorize the details of the tunnel opening, but failed. There were steps, but not many of them. Then he found himself in a courtyard about thirty yards square, with stars overhead and the shadowy, columned entrance of a place that looked in the dark like a temple behind him. He was aware that a stone floor had come sliding forward to conceal the flight of steps; a man had shouted to him to hurry lest he be caught in the gap, and he had seen that the sliding stone was two feet thick. There was no sign of the lama, cr of Samding, or the women. There were camels in the courtyard; he knew that by the smell before he saw them kneeling in two uneven rows. Diana, who hated camels, came to heel, growling to her- self in undertones, and Dawa Tsering laughed aloud. “T smell travel and the road that runs north!”’ he said triumphantly. ‘The may have these hot plains! Wait while I pick us two good camels—wait here!” He disappeared, and within the minute there were sounds of hot dispute—three voices. A camel rose like an apparition from another world and snarled as if this world were not satisfying. A heavy thump —a louder oath—and Dawa Tsering limped back. “Tn the belly! Kicked me in the belly!” he gasped, unable to stand upright but with enough wind left in him for agonied speech. “I would have hamstrung the brute—those Tibetan—ehh, but it hurts! —they pushed me toward his hoof again and—yow! Let me sit so—stand beside me—yah-h, I have a bellyache!”’ The courtyard was alive with movement, but there was hardly a spoken word. The camels moaned and gurgled, as they always do when loads are being heaped on them, and now and then some one called out for an extra package to balance an animal’s burden; but on the whole there was even less noise than when Bedouins strike tents and vanish. After a while as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom Ommony could make out men who certainly were not Tibetans; they wore turbans and were more like Bikaniri camel men. Then, huge and shadowy against the sky, there loomed seven elephants with curtained howdahs, making no noise, effortless, coming through an open gate like fantoms in a dream. Next there came from behind Ommony a man in a turban and long cloak, followed by a younger man whose stride seemed familiar, who wore the dress of a chieftain and a simitar at his waist. Diana knew them instantly and wagged her tail. They were the lama and Samding, changed almost out of recognition. Ommony followed them, wondering at the lama’s strength of gait that he seemed to have acquired along with the change of costume; they were presently surrounded by Tibetans, who seemed to be receiving whispered instructions. Unable to get close enough to hear what was being said, Ommony turned his attention to the elephants and noticed that they bore the trappings of a raja, although he did not know which raja. He asked one of the mahouts, who told him gruffly to mind his own business. He walked up close to one of the camel men, but it was too dark just there under the wall to see his features. ‘“‘Whose man are you?” he asked. “Mine own man!”’ the fellow answered in a plucked, flat harp-string of voice. ‘Have a care! This camel bites!” comicbooks.cO in