Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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crushed and torn on the sharp rocks at the bottom. Slowly, steadily the heavy rock which formed the trap door swung back in place to obscure forever the fate of Snake Eye to the world. Wise medicine men; for such emergencies as these was the trap built. Though the tribe searched for days nothing was found of the missing Snake Eye. And medicine men tell no tales. Years passed. The Indians almost entirely disappeared and the white man came with his flocks and herds to settle the valley. Towns and cities sprang up in the great San Joaquin Valley below and all was hurry and activity where before there had been peace. Into one of these towns one day rode two dark visaged men, both splendidly mounted and heavily armed. Dismounting at the bank they walked in and quietly ordered the employees to hold up their hands. Frightened, they did as they were ordered to and while one of the high¬ waymen held them at bay the other entered the vaults and procured almost the total amount of the bank’s capital. As he came out bearing in his hands the sacks of money it was noticed that on his right hand there were but three fingers. At sight of this the cashier whispered shakily to his assistant who stood by him, “For God’s sake, don’t move, its Three Fingered Jack and Joaquin.” On hearing these words the white faces of the threatened men became more strained and anxious. Joaquin heard the cashier’s whisper, but could not distinguish the words. Shut up,” he said, “One more yelp and you’ll be in hell.” By this time Jack had reached the doors of the bank. Still cov¬ ering the helpless inmates, Joaquin backed out the door. As the doors swung shut the cashier jumped for his gun, but paid for his folly with his life, a shot from Joaquin’s six-gun entering his heart. During the next few seconds all stood paralyzed with fear. This intermission was all the bandits needed to place the gold in the saddle bags. Swiftly Jack mounted and leading the pack horses at a dead run made off. Joaquin waited for a few seconds to cover his companion’s retreat. Hearing shots the sheriff rushed into the street to see two horses departing at top speed and another standing by the bank, a man be¬ side it. Drawing his revolver he took hasty aim at the flying target down the street, but swayed drunkenly and crumpled in a heap at the sound of a gun from near the bank. The populace rushed into the street to learn the meaning of the shots, but were driven to cover by a volly of shots from Joaquin, who then departed in the wake of his partner. Straight into the 12

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turtle Back By WALTER CARROTHERS, ’20 (Second Award) The spring sun shone brightly down upon the little foothill valley or the Sierra Nevada mountains warming the hillsides and fresh green growth so soon to be dried by the scortching sun of the California summer. To the small band of Indians toiling up the mountain side its light was a welcome relief from the clouds and rains of the winter. As they ascended the trail worn deep by the feet of many ancestors, they laughed and talked, for was not the Great Father kind to them again to bring the sun for their use? , . PV S . was t j ' ! e d ?y to pl ace food and gifts for the Great Father and his Spirits at Turtle Rock, the place named by the Father for that purpose at the beginning of all things. For weeks now the tribe had been preparing for this day and now they were on their way to lay their riches before the Creator of All Things. Snake Eye alone was unhappy, not because he had nothing to give to receive the kindness ot the Great father, but because he coveted the gift that his tribesman. Little Beaver, was to leave at Turtle Rock this day. Many suns he had rooded over this and at last he knew he should have the prize for his own. As the long line of Indians neared the rock all laughter and talking ceased and all noise hushed because they now walked on the ground ot the Gods. One after another they placed their presents before the rock and departed, glad to be away from such awful ground. The last to place his present before the rock was Snake Eye, and when departing, he went up the mountain instead of down as the others had done. When he was out of sight in the blue brush, which covered the mountainside, he stopped and waited patiently for an hour to make sure they were all gone. At the end of this time he came from his place of hiding and cautiously neared the sacred rock. Several times he stoped, fear over¬ coming his want of the great string of wampum and the great medi¬ cine skm of his tribesman. The temptation was too great, however and he went on under the shadow of Turtle Rock until his greedy tingers touched his prize. Fear again gaining ascendency he turned to nee, the wampum and skin clutched in his hand. But as he turned, the ground beneath his feet gave way and with a piercing cry he tell down, down into the black abyss of the mountain, his body being 11

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foothills they rode on and on, the blooded horses they rode never tiring under them. Grimly they struck for the trail covering mile after mile by night fall. At eight o’clock they struck the old Indian trail when suddenly Joaquin’s horse stepped into a squirrel hole and snapped off the front foot at the fetlock. After a short council they decided, as soon as a likely place could be found, to cache the treasure. Proceeding slowly they came to a great boulder shaped after the fashion of a turtle. Dismounting they untied the saddle bags and threw them into the dust at their feet. With the impact of the heavy bags beneath the boulder a strange thing happened. Where a second before had been solid ground a dark hole appeared. With frightened curses the men van¬ ished, their gold with them. Down, down they fell until their bodies struck the rock beside the mouldy skeleton of the Indian. Again the trap door swung shut sealing the fate of lawbreakers for a second time. The sheriff’s posse found the horse that had broken its leg but the outlaws had disappeared. After searching for days the other two horses were found. The robbers had vanished as if by magic and after a week of weary searching the hunt was given up. Old Jim, as the white men called him, came the next spring on his yearly pilgrimage to Turtle Rock to see what the Gods had left him. Being the last of the medicine men, he knew the secrets of the place and entered a door guarded jealously by generations of medicine men at the bottom of the excavation constructed inside. To his great delight he saw two more skeletons where last year there had been only one. Also he saw two leather saddle bags appar¬ ently filled inside mingled with pieces of canvas which had once been money bags. For hours he gloated over the treasure, then going out he carefully closed the door behind him Jim being a wise Indian used only what little money he needed to buy provisions and tobacco. When he died the secret was buried with him for medicine men tell no tales.