Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

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8 THE ORACLE peared in the startled eyes of Omar, as he realized the situation; his face turned a pasty white as he gazed in the muzzle of the revolver. ‘“Merey, sidi, mercy! For the love of the Prophet, merey! For the——”’ ‘“‘Bismallah! Peace!’’ broke in the snarling voice of Ali. ‘ You die! Upon the Koran have I sworn it.’’ Then, without the sli ghtest warning, Ali Ben Khan rolled over dead, the unfired revolver still clenched in his hand. For a moment Omar gazed with startled surprise; then a light dawned upon him. “The fool of an Afghan drank from the pool of the poisoned waters !”’ His eyes strayed triumphantly to the pool, around whose banks grew the familiar poisonous plant of the blood-red leaves. Omar seraimbled to his feet, for the first traces of the dawn were in the eastern sky and he had still fifty miles to travel. . Just before mounting the camel, he stooped down and picked up his water skin t hat Ali, unknown to him, had partly filled with the poisoned water. Lifting his head, Omar gazed to the east, awhirl with joy. Eastward, the rocky pinnacles, glorified with purple, gold and eriin- son, pierced a sky, rosy and flecked with yellow. Suecess had crowned his efforts. Ali was dead; the gold was still in his possession; his water skin was half full, and only fifty miles lay between him and the coast. ‘‘Allah be praised,’’ he muttered, as he lifted the water skin to his mouth. Taking a long, cool draught he rehung it on the saddle of his camel. Suddenly Omar clasped his hands to his stomach, whirled around once and fell down dead! The will of Allah was accomplished. [This is entirely my own. I acquainted myself with the atmosphere of the Orient by reading books of the Orient. |

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10 THE ORACLE An Early Morning On the Hill (As told by Dorothy Roberts, Winner of the First Marsh Prize) One morning in the middle of August, I lay half dreaming, half awake. I thought it must be very early, for the sun had not yet risen. Then, downstairs, the bronze clang of a grandfather’s clock sounded four times. A mosquito’s incessant buzzing awoke me, finally, to the extent that I knew I could not go to sleep again. The cool damp wind from the lake made me want to POPOUt AL. dressed quickly, went down to the boathouse and took out my canoe. We never use any other kind of boat. I looked at my watch. It was half-past four. The sun was just com- ing up in the east. The cold, fresh wind which always comes early in the morning in summer was going away. I paddled slowly up the shore of the lake, until I came to ‘‘Laurel Point,’’? where I landed. This point juts out about ten feet into the lake and in the spring is covered with laurel blossoms. My brothers had built a camp there, and invading it in search of something to eat, I pulled my canoe up on the bank. My brothers were not there because it rained the night before, and the camp leaked badly. From a shelf I took a quarter of a loaf of very stale bread out of a wax-paper wrapping and dipped a slice in a can of condensed milk. The bread was much too dry to be good, but was slightly improved by the milk. Feeling still hungry, I looked about for something more. I found about half a candle, some ant-infested sugar and some fresh worms for bait. There was also some mouldy pancake flour, egg powder and lumpy salt. Not caring for anything T found, I climbed the hill behind the camp for some blueberries, which grew in abundance there. All around I could see the blue mist on the surrounding hills which form a portion of the wonderful Berkshires. I soon had enough of the large, fresh, dewy blueberries. Near me a partridge flew up with a loud whirr, announcing my presence as dangerous. I saw a flock of crows feeding noisily on the ground, while in a tall pine tree was the sentinel watching for danger. Every flock of crows has a sentinel, and each crow takes a turn. I determined to creep up as