Adventure Magazine Cover, March 20, 1925 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

58 the sun. I have flown with the mother of eagles over Yaik. I can not hear your words, outlander.”’ Placing his hand before his eyes he turned his back on Durforth, who repeated his order to the others, increasing the bounty he offered for the visitor’s life. But the Ostiaks continued to gaze at him with wooden features, and he understood that they would do nothing for the moment. Shatong, after throwing wood on the fire to make it brighter, would do nothing at all. He had been watching the strange white man. He saw that Thorne’s motions were assured and purposeful. Shatong had felt the other’s sword rasp his ribs, and the skin of his face still stung from the powder that had belched from the cannon. This young outlander might cause a second explosion at any moment, he rea- soned. Evidently the other’s kam, his tute- lary diety was powerful, and unfriendly to Shatong’s kam. Durforth’s power, too, was doubtful. So Shatong waited to see what would happen. “These be men of power. No hoofed beast can protect itself against them, crea- tures with claws flee away. There is a thusind, a pursuit of blood between them. Let us see what they will accomplish.”’ Durforth rose and advanced to the fire with hand outstretched. “‘’Qd’s life, Master Thorne, I greet you well! In this pagan land we can not afford to nourish our late quarrel. We must abet one another. So, let us cry a truce.” He had no means of knowing that the armiger had caught the gist of his command to Shatong, and he thought to silence Joan with a warning glance. This had quite another effect on the girl. “Do not put faith in him,” she said in- stantly, “for he will not keep faith with you.” Thorne motioned her to be silent. “Vield ye,” he said to Durforth. ‘Throw down your weapons if you are bent on life.” The man in the fox skins still held out his hand, but he was thinking. And Philip had not chosen an agent for a dull wit. Durforth said slowly: “Bethink you, Master Thorne, Edward hath breathed his last by now. The odds are, Mary is queen, and so is England joined to Spain. What will it profit you to meddle with me?”’ “Because we are here in the hands of ‘savages I offer you a fair surrender. We Adventure have this maid to bear to safety, and you know the way. Yield and I will do what in me lies to bring you to England. For the rest, I care not. Yield your sword or draw it.”’ “You are bold, young sir, and fool- hardy.”” He paused. ‘“‘Why do you press this quarrel when it mars both our for- tunes?” “‘Because,” quoth the armiger, ‘I have looked upcn the bodies of a hundred honest men, marred by your treachery. Come——” Durforth started and looked beyond him at the shadows of the forest, open mouthed. Thorne, noticing the quick dread in the other’s face, turned to see what had caused it. In the thicket he perceived that some- thing moved, something white and massive. Then he sprang to one side. In the second when he had taken his gaze from the merchant, Durforth had stooped to pick up from the snow the dagger left there by the shaman. No sooner had his fingers closed upon it than he lunged at Thorne’s back. The sudden movement in so big a man had aroused the armiger, who stepped wide of the thrust, drawing his sword as he did so. “Ha, stand to your guard, rogue. No one will come between us this time.”’ Durforth recovered his balance and his composure at once. He had acted before he thought; the blood stained knife had caught his eyes as Thorne turned away. Taking off his surcoat, he stood in doublet and boots, smiling a little. In drawing his sword he whipped it through a salute. ‘“‘A pity, my hotspur, that you gave your allegiance to the wrong prince. “Had you cast your lot with Mary and Spain we twain might have gone far.” WHILE Joan sat upon her log, her eyes glued to the flicker of the two n rapiers that gleamed ruddy in the fire light, the Ostiaks followed with absorb- ing interest the struggle between the two outlanders. In the treacherous footing of the trodden snow they moved warily. Durforth, who had the dirk in his left hand, sought to come to close quarters; failing that, he circled to get the fire at his back and drive Thorne out into the deeper snow. Red light played up and down the bright blades, and the slithering click of steel punctuated the quick breathing of the men. CORNICLO© (©