Plainfield High School - Milestone Yearbook (Plainfield, NJ)

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8 THE ORACLE The Valley of the Purple Mountain (Written by the Winner of the Craig A. Marsh Prize Composition— Herbert Hooker. ) Ted Stone was new in China. For nearly six months, however, he had traveled with Carl Mason to distant and out of the way places in search of valuable old Chinese relics, legends and manuscripts for study in one of the big midwestern American colleges. The two young men, after a tedious journey, had arrived at the little missionary out-post, at the head of navigation on a small river, which they intended to make their headquarters for some time. It was reported that the valley contained many interesting objects taken at some long ago period from a ruined temple. They received a cordial welcome from the missionary, who invited them to make their stay at his home. ‘Tis few whites come up this far and every stranger is more than welcome,” he said. After a hearty repast, Mason stated their errand. The missionary, Cole, was a quiet, earnest man of about middle age witha pleasant jovial face, who listened seriously to their tale and then remarked: “I have something which may be of considerable interest to you.” So saying, he reached into a narrow cupboard and withdrew a small casket of curlously carved teakwood, which contained many priceless old records of a place called the “Valley of the Purple Mountain.” It spoke of a great temple and city built many thousands of. years ago and guarded by impassable mountain barriers. “The Valley of the Purple Mountain’—a magic name—suggestive of a score of things—mysterious, unfathomed, hinting at unknown and unexplored regions. No very definite location was given, but the manuscript spoke of it as being somewhere along the upper reaches of this very river. Both young fellows determined to visit it as soon as possible, if only for the adventure. “It was given to me by an old Chinese priest at his death some ten years ago,’ added Cole. One day, Mason being away on a scouting tour, Ted sauntered out of the village and incidentally up the ancient, stone paved trail leading toward the distant western mountains. | Unconsciously quickening his pace to a swift, steady swing, ‘Ted traveled some distance thru’ the pleasant woods, loaded as they were with the rubbery leaved rhododendrons and multitudes of other flowers which he could not name. The sun sank slowly behind the massive rocky piles ahead warning the boy of the advisability of getting back before dark. He lingered though for a while watching the glow of the heavens fade from about the purple peaks, leaving all the hushed land in gray twilight. Ted was suddenly brought back to consciousness of his surroundings by the appearance of a very aged Chinaman tottering toward him, evidently in the last stages of exhaustion. The poor fellow thrust a letter into Stone’s hand and fell, babbling incoherently, at the foot of the boy.

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THE ORACLE 7 Valedictory Address JEAN MACNAB Fellow-classmates of 1920, tonight we have had a glimpse of the school of the past, we have seen what is being done at present, and have laid our hopes for the future. We feel a sense of deep gratitude toward the past for building up the school in which we have spent four of the hap- piest years of our lives. We also feel a great responsibility for the future for our success or failure, whether in business or college, will reflect on our school. Let us, therefore, as we go forth to a broader field of work, try to be successful, not only for our own b High School. enefit, but to bring glory to the Plainfield

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THEPsORACLE 9 While staying along the coast, Ted had picked up a small, a very small, smattering of Chinese, but he was unable to understand a word said. An hour later the old man breathed hi s last at the little missionary hospital. “Che men looked wonderingly at his spare figure and tattered garments. | He was dressed as a common coolie, yet, though there was nothing striking about his wrinkled visage, he suggested, coming as he had with the strange letter, a man of another world, one long dead and cloaked in mystery and sorrow. That night Mason deciphered the spiderlike characters. It contained an urgent appeal to the old priest, who had given the casket to Cole, to return to the “Valley” at once, though no reason was disclosed. Carried as it was by a messenger on foot from the west served to strengthen the belief that the secret spot lay somewhere within a few days’ journey toward the setting of the sun. Except for the treasures of the missionary, nothing of value having been brought to light in the village, preparations for an exploring expedition were hastily made. A number of riding and pack horses were secured, and also twa guides who knew the country as far as the foot of the trail leaving to another village farther south. Three days later found the party encamped at the fork of the trail. One of the guides approached the fire, about which the Americans sat, and remarked emphatically in Chinese: “Beyond we should not travel, evil spirits reign in the mountains above us. Few have gone in of either white or yellow yet many flowers have bloomed and died since those few departed and no sign has come of their living. None have ever returned. It is not well.” Mason made no direct answer, but questioned the man closely about the mountain country. It was rough going, the passes were narrow and unfit for horse travel, so he had heard from hunters who had penetrated a short distance into the hills. The Americans, on receiving similar information from the other guide, decided to send back the horses with the Chinamen and proceed alone on foot. ; The next morning, after seeing the pack train safely off for home, with a week’s provisions in their haversacks and armed with light rifles, they set out. It was hard going and rough going, uphill and down dale, fording streams and scaling cliffs, the packs, none too light at the start, weighed tons at night, and camp was pitched early. The two following days were the same, each night, seeking a suitable spot, they flung themselves upon the ground and slept. “There had never been any definite trail, but the boys had kept in sight of the river, which was their guide. They were higher in the mountains, now, and could occasionally catch glimpses of the great plain country they had left. Late in the afternoon of the third day, while stumbling along an accidentally discovered footpath, which wound around the southern side of a small hill sepa- rating them from the river, Ted fell and rolled to the bottom of a washout below. The bank was quite steep, but the boy was not hurt. He picked himself up slowly and began the ascent, when suddenly he shouted, “‘Carl, Carl, come here, quick!’ Mason scrambled hastily down and looked in the direction Ted was pointing.’ Th ere, half hidden in the brush in a concealed angle of the gully was