Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

THEN something near the top of ’ the cafion caught hiseye. By the ) aid of memory and the flicker- SF ‘ing fire light he was able to get in his mind a fairly good idea of the ledge that ran along the wall of the canon just un- der the top on that side. As he remembered it, that ledge ended in a steep draw a quar- ter of a mile up the cafion which his mules could negotiate. Only a mule or a mountain sheep could cling to that narrow ledge, but if he could once get them on it he believed he could make it.. But first he determined to investigate it himself. He had to cross the cafion below where the two men were sitting by their fire, but so long as they remained within its giare they could not see him. He could tell from their attitude that they had no fear of him getting past them. To his relief he found that it would be an easy matter to get his mules on to the ledge, but he dared not take ‘the chance of reaching some impossible ob- -stacle where they might have to turn back, -and:so he continued on afoot. At one place he was almost directly over the heads of the two men by the fire, but the very glare of it was his best protection unless the flaming fir tree should suddenly send a higher beam of light that might reveal him. He passed this spot on hands and knees, keeping as close to the cafion wall as he could hug. This danger passed he paused and looked down. He recognized the outlaws below as tough characters he had seen hanging around Timber City saloons. One of them he had also known in Virginia City, so he knew he was not mistaken about their char- acter. Then he continued on until he reached the draw at the end of the ledge. Could the mules make it? He did not know. There were places where the ledge was not more than three feet wide. Nor was it always a flat shelf of rock, there were places where it sloped downward at an acute angle that would have made a cat scratch to stay on, and below was a perpendicular drop of a hundred or more feet. But such places -were short and he believed the mules could scramble over them. A horse never could. This he did know: That it was positively the only way to get past the outlaws. He returned along the ledge as cautiously as he had come and went back to his mules. He dared not make the attempt until the fire in the pitchy fir tree had died down, but in the meantime there was work to be done Adventure rearranging the pack on the Bec’ mule. It now projected far out from her sides and it had to be built high and narrow else it would push her off at any one of the narrow places along the ledge. At last this was ac- complished and he moved back as close to the end of the ledge as he dared. Once more he reconnoitered on foot and found one man asleep, the other standing guard. He had hoped that he might have a chance to stampede their horses but they had been picketed just above the camp in the cafion. He saw that the pitch in the fir tree had burned out, but tongues of flame still licked at the stalwart trunk, and might continue to do so for days. He decided that he might as well make the attempt first as last, for in the morning the outlaws would certainly discover his tracks and if he was successful in making his escape they would at once be on his trail again. When repacking he had also torn “the canvas cover of the pack into eight strips which he had bound carefuly over the mules’ feet. It would last long enough to muffle the ringing of their iron shoes over the hard rock of the ledge. A more nervous man would have walked and led the mules, but Alex knew that there might be times when quickness alone could save the mules, and there would be more danger of disaster with him in front unable to get out of their way than if he was riding. Sniffing softly Lisbeth reluctantly set her canvas covered feet on to the narrow ledge. The Bec’ mule at first refused to follow, but after she was once persuaded on to it she pressed hard on Lisbeth’s heels in her ter- ror. With dark, towering clifis above, an abyss with leaping flames beneath, and the most precarious footing in the world under their feet it was no wonder that the mules seemed fairly to shrivel in their terror. Alex could hear the harsh grating of the pack along the rock as Bec’ crowded fran- tically away from the edge. He could feel it ever so slightly with his own right leg. Occasionally it would bump rather hard, but instantly Lisbeth would swerve away. In all the years that he had ridden her Lisbeth had never yet bruised his legs. When going between trees, for instance, if there was not room to get through without gouging her rider’s legs she would not go through. Once, as they rounded a turn on the ledge the pack caught on the edge of a projecting boulder. ‘There was a loud, tearing sound, COMIGDIOOKSEEO