Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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started to flee, but the old Maru forbade them to leave, so they re¬ mained in the village, now as still as nature before a thunder storm. The lava came quickly. It sounded like all the thunder in the universe let loose. The people ran before it, but it engulfed them. They prayed upon their knees to the Fire Goddess, and it flowed over them, mocking their last shrieks with sullen hisses. The old chief was the only one saved. “He has wandered many years, but now he may return home as his daughter has forgiven him. For do you not see that the sun streams more brightly through the trees? And hark! I hear the birds of Para¬ dise singing their sweetest songs. They sing only when some sinner is forgiven, and it is he.” The old story teller’s face was lit up by a smile of joy supreme, and the children wondered. Then their attention was attracted to another person, who was shouting and crying far down the street. When they turned their eyes once more to where the old man sat they were wonder stricken for where the old man sat was only a gap¬ ing crack that had not been there before. “He was the chief,” said an awe-stricken youngster, “He came from the earth, and he returns. The mystery was a mystery to them no longer, so they started after the man, who was now near them, for boys are very quickly turned from one amusement to another. The sun went down and the long western twilight rolled upon the drowsy world, and all was silence once more. Wqt pesert By GEORGE WINKLER, ’21 (Honorable Mention) In the land of the Western Desert, Where fortune seekers go. There is a law in that land of hope That every man must know. Three columns of smoke in the sky by day; By night three fires aglow; This is the law of the desert That every man must know. It’s the signal of help for the dying. From the men who answer the call; A wild life is the desert one. Where men die where they fall. 20

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Had she been not able to come, or maybe she had not heard of it, for she had not been to the announcement in the morning? They formed the idea that she did not know of it. The tom-toms soon began to beat and throb in unison, a wild rythm, and the head priests came forth in their gaudy sacrificial robes, chanting the wierd Death Song. The people, one by one, joined in until it rose and fell as a mighty, roaring wind. Then abruptly it broke off, and ceremonies began. One by one the other priests came in, until all but the victim were there. Then the tom-toms began their strange booming, and he walked in. Oluti strode as straight as a tall pine tree, looking neither to right nor left but proudly up. A hush fell upon the throng; it seemed so terrible to sacrifice one so young and beautiful. Then the priests took their long knives and stabbed him to the heart, throwing him upon the altar and calling for aid to the Fire Goddess. As the silenced throng watch¬ ed the ceremony, they heard a voice singing an old love song, coming nearer and nearer: “The moon is shining down on the sea, A maid is pining, ’neath a tall palm tree. For her brave, for her brave, But never more will she meet him, Never more will she greet him. Her brave, her brave ’ Then the song came to an abrupt end, for the old chief’s daughter, it was she who was singing, came upon the scent of the sacrificed to appease the wrath of the Fire Goddess, who he could not tell. She at once knew who it was, and leaping upon the platform where the chief sat, demanded in a strange, strained voice, “My father, have you done this?’’ The chief’s very composure seemed to drive her mad for she stretched her arms to heaven and shrieked, terrifingly, “You know that you are guilty. You acknowledge it in your every glance. Oh! to know that one I love should turn against me. I return his hate with hate tenfold. Gods! Look upon me! May this coward thing that stands before me and before you all, may he wander until this pen¬ ance be done for this deed, and until he is forgiven by me. Gods! Grant it!’’ Then she ran to the altar where Oulitis’ body still lay, red stained by his heart’s blood. She took the red, dripping knife from his side and pierced her bosom with it, gasping with her last breath, “Hear me, oh ye gods,’’ and fell upon his body. The old chief was unconsolable, he blamed everybody, especially Atu for bringing this thing upon him. As he was grieving there runners came with messages saying that the lava was bearing straight down upon the village. People once more packed their goods and 19

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flmrieft %xm$nt£ By ADELAIDE HAWKINS, ’22 (Honorable Mention) on, stood on, jumped on, because it is just a rather nice, peaceful old stump. It was in the year eighteen seventy-five. It was a dark night, the full moon being hidden by a mass of clouds. A light wind softly wailed througs the forest near the little trading post town of Sebasto¬ pol. The woods thinned, stretching away in a plain to the town of Santa Rosa. A beat of horses’ hoofs steadily approaching could be heard. Along the rough road came the old mail coach. At is entered the edge of the wood it stopped. Suddenly, voices called sharply, a shot rang out. Then breaking into the stillness that followed came the sound of swiftly falling footsteps through the forest. A dark man in course clothes with hat pulled low emerged from the underbrush. In his hand he carried a bag apparently heavy. He paused, glanced quickly about then fell to his knees at the foot of a tree and began hastily to dig with his knife. He worked feverishly glancing nervously over his shoulder from time to time. He stooped to place the bag in the hole he had dug when a cry cut the air, a ter¬ rible cry of fear and pain. A shot, then that horrible cry again and presently hasty footsteps approached. When quite near they hesi¬ tated, then came on less surely. The man on his knees beneath the tree had remained as if frozen but now he sprang up and took cover in a clump of bushes. The underbrush parted and a girl with pale face and one hand pressed to her bosom where dark stains were showing through her jacket, stumbled blindly and fell with her face upturned across the partially buried bag beneath the tree. Yet when her sobs ceased, still footsteps beat through the forest and a coarse voice threatening and cursing called, “Bill, you thieving devil, bring back that swag.” The footsteps and angry voice passed and were lost in the distance. The moon broke out from the clouds and fell full on that pros¬ trate figure and the white upturned face with the closed eyes. Then out from his hiding came the man and shaking stooped to remove that silent figure. Yet even as he did so the dark eyes opened and gazed at him. What entered the soul of the man then ? A dark rage 21