Dunsmuir Joint Union High School - Crag Echoes Yearbook (Dunsmuir, CA)

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Just before the sun dropped behind the western range, the In- dians reached the level of the valley. Behind them loomed Music Moun- tain, each cliff blazing in the rays of the setting sun, before them stretched the valley, mile upon mile of level ground covered with kyetta grass. The wind had gone down with the sun. Now and then there was a strong gust but for the most part there was just a gentle whistle through the cliffs. The unsuspecting train was rapidly approaching the foot of the cliffs where the Indians were watching. Suddenly witl1 a great war whoop tl1e leader kicked his horse and dashed out into the open valley followed by twenty braves in war paint and intoxicated with fire-water There was great consternation in the train when the band of Indians was seen approaching. The wagons were quickly drawn into a rude semi-circle with the loose stock inside. The women were busily loading the guns while the children huddled in the corners of the wagons and whimpered. The Indians were within shooting distance when with a big gust of wind came the long, clear call of a bugle! Everyone was petrified. Even the horses stopped and seemed to listen- Again came that long. clear and this time thrilling note. The soldiers ....... The same thought leaped into the mind of every brave. All thought of the pros- pectors was forgotten. Likewise the explanation of that amazing sound. Too intoxicated to have much reasoning power, their only thought to out lun the swift horses of the troopers. With one accord they turned a11d started for the open valley with Long Mounain in its center where they could hide in the dry washes. The prospectors stood astounded at their deliverance. Then quickly recovering they turned towards Music Mountain expecting to see a troop of soldiers file out from behind one of the cliffs, but nothing was to be seen except that now the cliffs were softened by gray and purple shadows. All that could be seen of the Indians was a rapidly disappearing cloud of dust out in the valley. Fearing that the Indians might recover from their scare and dis- covering their mistake return to attack the train, the party quickly formed into marching order and hastened to the shelter of the mountain. At dusk they reached the water hole. There they camped unmolested. Not a sign of the Indians was to be seen next morning. They resumed theirhjourney that day and reached Gold Basin without further mishap. In no way could they explain their deliverance. They were still as mystified as ever when a year or so later an old prospctor from Ash- fork visited the community at Gold Basin. They told him of their strange experience and asked if he knew why there were no soldiers to be seen. Witli a chuckle he explained the phenomenon: At certain times of the year, he said. when the wind blows in the right direction, it whistles through the cliffs with a noise resembling the call of a bugle. Pllinore Van Fossen, '24. Twenly-four

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I X I ,Q T ilgpf- fl ' 7 fy Yi , T DEW I TEM o . I , The Bugle Call FAR down the valley a slow moving line could be seen fitfully through the blowing sand. This line was a train of prospectors. They had suf- fered untold hardships on the trail from Santa Fe. Now they were buck- ing at sand storm-one of many that they had encountered. If one had been near enough one could have heard the bawling of the few cattle and the peevish whines of the children. The party had been traveling through the open valley for three days without finding water. That evening they hoped to camp at water hole on Music Mountain. They had been warned at Ashfork that a band of young braves from the Wallapi tribe were on the warpath but so far nothing had been seen or heard of them. If the party reached Music Mountain and loaded up with water they could again travel through the open valley until they reached Gold Basin, their destination. Mean- while the wind was whistling down the dry washes carrying the sand before it while the sun was blazing overhead. On the cliffs of Music Mountain a motionless sentinel was watch- ing this erawling line. Back in among the cliffs the braves were holding a pow-wow. They had been to Ashfork earlier in the week with plenty of gold. Now they had no gold but plenty of fire-water. This gold they had gotten in Gold Basin where all that was necessary was to scratch the surface soil off in certain places and nuggets could be picked up big enough to buy one and more often two bottles of fire-water. Wliy should they let the white men go to Gold Basin and stake out claims? Indeed not! These braves were not going to stand around peacefully and see their gold appropriated by someone else. So the sentinel still stood and watched that slow-moving train- As the afternoon waned the prospcctors drew nearer the moun- tain. The Indians were still drinking fire-water and were planning their attack while the wind was whistling through the cliffs. They had decided that when the party was within a half mile of the foot of the cliffs, they would lide down on them and kill them quicker than they could a pack of coyotes. At the appointed time the sentinel warned them and they staggered to their horses. At a word from the leader they started on their perilous descent. Twenty-lhrer

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6 Another Fish Story H mother, get me some! Please do. This was the cry from every little boy and girl who passed the drug store. :It was not only little boys a11d girls who wanted some though, because young girls and women as well were rushing madly toward this place. People passing on the street heard many exclamations such as, Oh, isn't this one pretty! Mine are the prettiest of all! Now dear, be careful and don 't drop them. Have you any yet?'7 W One might wonder what all this excitement was about, but as nearly everybody knows, it takes very little to cause a great deal of ex- citement in a small town, and so it was ill this little town. Une of the druggists had received a large shipment of gold fish. He was giving these away with every purchase of certain articles amounting to so much. By evening nearly every woman and child had carried home some of these fish. 'Phe next day found a bowl of fish in the Window of nearly every home. And even though the excitment had some what subsided, this was not the last to be heard of the gold fish. ' Miss Miriah Simpkins and Mrs.'John Jones were having their morning gossip over the back fence. How are your fish? asked Miriah. I Uh they are just the cutest things- They play so cunningly with each other, and I am quite sure they know me already. Yours may be very cute, but I know they can 't compare with mine. Uh yes, I bought a splendid book yesterday that tells you just how to take care of them. f'Where did you get it? I must get one, too. You know I am so nervous about mine- I am so afraid that I might not do just the right thing and they might die. Bobbie! Bobbie! VVhere is my tobacco jar! This was Bob- bie Hansen's father calling. Mr. Hansen had spent about half an hour svarching for his tobacco jar, but could not find it anywhere. Bobbie was generally at the bottom of all the little mysterious happenings of this household, and as he had not been seen nor heard of for some time, his fond parent had decided that Bobbie must know something about that jar. Sure enough, asrhgir- Hansen glanced out of the front door, he saw Bobbie sprawled, oiftwon the lawn, gazing intently at something swimming about in his tobacco jar: What are you doing there, son? asked his father. Bobbie looked up and smiled, I broke the bowl for my gold fish so I put them in thisf' iiMOill0l'l Mother! Vome here quick, screamed little Mary Smith- Twenty-five