Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

46 Thus shod and carrying a long staff, he could glide over the surface of the snow beside the sled on which the girl rode. Thorne and Peter ran or walked in the hard track made by the cloven hoofs of the beasts and the run of the sled. It was necessary to carry on the sled powder, tinder and pine branches enough to kindle a fire at a moment’s notice. Only in this way could they ward off the at- tacks of the lean, gray wolves, larger than any the voyagers had seen before. It was after they had beaten off a pack of these wolves and were pushing forward warily, that Thorne halted and pointed down at some large tracks that ran across the slot of the sled. “T pray you, Mistress Joan,” he said, “‘tell the Samoyed we must have good fresh meat, ere ever we can reach the ships. Here are bear’s tracks, and we will hunt down the beast.” But when the maiden translated his speech to Kyrger, the Easterling shook his head and uttered one word decisively. “Kyrger says,” she explained, ‘‘that this is ermecin—the strongest. Tis thus they _ name the white bear of the Ice Sea.” ‘Nevertheless we will seek it out.” The small Samoyed appeared to be troubled. Ermecin, he declared, could not be brought down by his arrows. Nor would the pistols of the outlanders serve to stop the rush of this beast. Moreover the white bear was sacred to a neighboring tribe, the Ostiaks. Thorne was determined to get good meat for the girl, and took his crossbow from the sled, winding it with care and setting a bolt in the slot. Joan insisted on going with him, saying that she had a dread of being left alone. Peter was put in charge of the reindeer and the three set out toward the shore. The tracks were fresh, and Kyrger fol- lowed them easily, though reluctantly enough. They descended a gully and came out on the shore, sighting the bear before long, among a nest of rocks. It scented or saw them at the same time and raised its head on a swaying, sinuous neck. Thorne saw that its head was small and its body greater than that of any bear he had set eyes upon. Moreover, being white tinged with yellow, it blended with the snow behind it. It did not seem to fear them because it Adventure made no effort to move away when they approached within bowshot. “Bid Kyrger loose his _ shafts,’ said Thorne briefly. ‘For he can shoot several, and I but one.” The Samoyed shook his head, reluctantly, yet obediently fitted an arrow to the string and bent his short bow. The missile whipped through the air and struck the white bear in the flank, but did not pene- trate half its length. The brute swung toward them instantly, its head weaving from side to side. A second arrow pierced its shoulder, and it swept through the snow, moving with unexpected speed, so that Kyrger’s third shot merely glanced along its ribs. The hunter cast down his bow and drew his knife, the breath hissing between his teeth, while Thorne planted his feet and sighted the crossbow, sending a bolt into the bear’s throat. The beast plunged forward, and gained its feet slowly, blood streaming from its open jaws. Then it fell on its side, not a dozen paces from them. Kyrger shouted, wild with excitement. He pointed admiringly at Thorne’s weapon and ran to the bear, chanting something loudly. To Thorne’s surprize Joan smiled, although her lips were bloodless. She had not stirred or spoken during the charge of the great beast. “He is saying,” she laughed, “that the spirit of the bear must not be angered at us. He is telling the spirit that we did not slay it, nay, a wicked Ostiak sped the bolt. And when the bear’s spirit seeks blood re- venge in another body it must follow the tribe of Ostiaks.”’ “What are they?” “My father said they dwell more to the east. They are cruel people, who slay stran- gers. ‘They are the dog-sled people, more warlike than the reindeer-sled Samoyeds.” Leaving Kyrger to skin the animal, they returned to the camp, where Peter had kindled a fire and Thorne took the ship- man aside. “Many days have passed since we bade Master Chancellor farewell. By my reckon- ing this should be close to Christmas, if, indeed it is not that very day.” “Noél!” Peter glanced up at the flickering arc of the northern lights, and at the gray sweep of the shore with its fringe of ice floes. GOMIGIOO (C©