Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 195: what you’re looking at

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

‘and of Gideon!’’ had delayed too long, that nothing he could do would stop this stampede and he lurched drunkenly in the direction of the kraal, curs- ing and blaspheming. Once he turned—the elephants had reached the trench. It had stopped them; they were milling about it, exploring its depth with their trunks. He slowed down to a walk, stopped and turned to watch them. He saw one pick up a machine gun and toss it into the air. He saw his tent collapse as a big tusker barged into it and he grinned as he thought of the two bound men he had left in it. Their deaths would make things easier for him. They And then with a curse he turned and ran again. The big bull was coming on, scream- ing with rage, maddened by a piece of can- vas which flapped about its ears. Gonzales ran on, cursing, praying. His feet felt like lead, his heart pounded rapidly —his eyes closed—he rolled in his gait. The heavy pounding behind him sounded closer and closer. He glanced over his shoulder in a frenzy of fear. 7 !” he shrieked. And then a swinging blow knocked him headlong—the weight of death dropped heavily on him. A report sounded crisply above the clamor. Another shot. The big bull rose from his knees—the moonlight glinted on its blood-stained tusks —then toppled slowly over. The clouds closed in. It began to rain. IT WAS early morning. _ The children of the kraal were swarming about the body of the dead bull; the women were mournfully examining their trampled mealie patches; the men were crowding about their chief, acclaiming his decision to ask the British to assume a_ protectorate over them. Dixon was superintending the roping to- gether of the soldiers who had been the porters of the expedition. Four of them, led by the young warrior, had rushed to the rescue of Macombe just before the big bull crashed into the tent. ‘And [ ain’t a bit sorry,”’ Isaacs said—he and Miles were seated on the ground, their backs against the pole stockade of the kraal —T killed the tusker too late to save Gon- 12 A? be) 177 zales. Sure! It vas a.—— of a vay to die —but he deserved it!” Miles nodded. **Just the same,”’ Isaacs continued with a chuckle. “He must have been a smart man to have caught Dixon. I vonder how he did it? But ve’ll never know. That big fellow is a vonderful lar. But look! Ain’t that foony!” He pointed to a monstrously fat woman who waddled out of the gate in the stockade. Under one brawny arm she carried the wriggling figure of D’Andra. In her other hand she clutched a roll of parchment which was tied with a broad red ribbon. As she came opposite Isaacs and D’Andra she loosed her hold of D’Andra and he dropped, to the ground then scuttled away, yelling with fright. He was captured by two warriors and escorted to Dixon. The woman, her face glowering with righteous indignation, turned on Isaacs who was giggling loudly. ‘And so this comes back to me,” she panted. What with her age, her fatness and her exertions she was almost breathless. She waved the parchment feebly. “Ma- combe the chief gave it to the man who was my husband, Umglubu the Pig, we called him, and he gave it tome. Au-a! that was before you came here, storekeeper. But, just a little while ago, my husband left me, in the quiet of the night he went and he took this from me while I slept. Many times be- - fore he had tried to take it, but always I. slept on my right side and he couldn’t. But— that night—” She sighed. “But now it is mine. That child of a man came running into my hut last night, squealing with fear. This was in his hand—so I protected him.” She stuck it in the slot in her left ear and waddled pompously away. The two white men looked at each other and grinned. “The British ought to give you anything you ask for for this night’s work, Big ’Un.” ‘——!? Tsaacs said heatedly. “TI didn’t do it for them. I vas thinking of Macombe and his people.”’ He chuckled. ‘Vell, ve did it, didn’t ve, missioner? Ve made ’em run.” “Yes,” Miles said solemnly. ‘‘We made themrun. With the sword of the Lord me “Oy,” Isaacs murmured—he was looking at the retreating figure of the fat woman; the red ribbon on the parchment dangled coquettishly down to her shoulders—“and of Gideon!’ COMIGDIOOKSEEO