University High School - Cub Yearbook (Oakland, CA)

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that I ever hope to see. He must have weighed a half a ton or more, and his tusks were long and gleam- ing, and he had a. wicked eye that shone balefully in the jungle sha- dows. Of course, our horses bolt- ed at once, with our guns in the saddle holsters. I didn't waste any time staring, but got lNIiss Parker and myself up into the tree as soon as possible. Then the old snorter parked himself at the foot of the tree and glared at us. There was nothing we could do but wait until somebody came along and chased the brute, so con- sequently we settled ourselves for a long wait, while the old boy down below us settled himself, and pro- ceeded to go to sleep. With the intention of making ourselves more comfortable, I moved up higher, and grasped a thick, gnarled branch above my head. I nearly fell out of the tree, for the branch was cold and clammy, and moved under my hand. Slowly it uncoiled, and re- vealed itself as a boa-constrictor of magnificent proportions. I gave a yell, and prepared to throw my- self out of the tree and take my chances with the boar, for an adult boa is an ugly customer to stick around with. I was stopped by an answering cry from lNIiss Parker, and by the time I had recovered my balance and looked around, here she was talking to the brute, and it was resting its head on her shoulder as if it were glad to see her. Yes, it was Tom, right enough. Personally, I shouldn't have recognized him, but then he wasn't my pet. Bliss Parker was talking to the reptile, and pointing to the snort- 34 ing beast below. I canlt p1'etend to say whether the brute understood her, or whether, freshly awakened, he saw breakfast waiting for him, and acted accordingly. The girl always claimed he understood her. However that may be, Tom un- wound himself some more, and dropped a couple of coils around the boa1'. Then began a mighty battle. The pig, uttering piercing cries with a horrible human note in them, fought and thrashed in a vain en- deavor to free himself from those dreadful coils. It was horrible to watch, and Edith leaned trembling against me, her eyes closed, and scarcely breathing. I put my arm around her protectingly, but I could not take my eyes from the struggle below. For some time they fought, the frantic efforts of the boar preventing the snake from getting his deadly grip. Fin- ally Tom anchored himself with a couple of turns around the base of the tree, and then, slowly, inex- orably, the huge coils began to con- t1'act. The boar, feeling it, re- doubled his struggling, and his shreiks became continuous and soul-rending. As I watched, I could see that they were coming near to the edge of the gorge, where a little river flowed. Tight- er and tighter grew the pitiless coils, weaker and weaker grew the boar,s efforts, but nearer and nearer they came to the brink of the precipice. At last, about a yard from the edge, the boarls struggles ceased, and there was a hideous sound of crunching bones. HThen, crash! The edge of the gorge caved in, and victor and vanquished disappeared over the

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shipped me out, and that was the last they ever saw of me. Lord knows there was nothing to it but graft. The consul needed a secretary like he needed an overcoat-might come in handy somewhere, but not in that climate. He had nothing to do, he wasn't in 142 his office six months in the five years that I was there. He used to go big-game hunting up coun- try half the time. g'YVe was a gay crew. There was a good many British officials of one sort or another with their wives, sisters, and daughters, and there was missionaries too, but they wouldnit have nothing to do with us, said we was all headed straight to perdition. VVe was al- ways having dances, and that sort of thing,--I guess they was afraid of getting home-sick if they didn't raise Cain continuous. There was ust one thing that 1 couldnit abide. That was snakes. I never got used to them like the -rest of them did. I'd always be just as scared, even of the harmless ones. There was one girl in par- ticular that used to make pets of them. Her name was Edith Par- ker, and shortly after I got there, she took up a regular monster, a young boa-constrictor, - raised him out of the egg. She called him Tom, and she used to wear him around l1er neck like a sca1'f until he got too big to handle. She was real fond of Tom, and he was of her, but finally he got too big and heavy, and she had to let him go. For a long time, weld hear stories: about this big snake that would come into the houses and scare the natives. After a while they stop- ped, and we figured that Tom was either dead, or had migrated. The natives worked up some myth about him, and he got quite a repu- tation as a local deity. But we was to meet him again. One time we all went hunting up in the hills after birds and possibly a pig or two, and lNIiss Parker and I got separated from the rest. There wasn't any use trying to find the bunch in that jungle, and we kI1CVV that they'd find us if we didnit wander away, what with their native trackers and all, so we got down off' our horses and sat under a big tree to wait until our party should find us. 'cSuddenly there bl11'St through the bushes tl1e biggest wild boar 33

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brink. It wasnit in Tom's nature to let go, and besides, he was se- curely anchored to the tree. He made a violent effort to draw him- self and his prize back to the top, and his huge body swelled and strained in a last supreme try. For a moment he hung motionless, but the weight of the boar was too great, and slowly the long hawser- like body began, sickeningly, to stretch. For what seemed an eter- nity, I watched, frozen, as the smooth shape grew Slimmer and slimmer, stretching,- Suddenly the voice stopped, and with a sharp shock, I recalled my- self to the little white-tiled restau- rant. Following his gaze, I saw my story-teller staring at the blue- coated back of a policeman on the other side of the room. Swiftly, stealthily, he pushed back his chair, and before I could move, he was at the door. The policeman turned, and catching sight of him seemed to clear the space in a single bound. However, by the time he had reach- ed the door, the shabby form had disappeared into the night with- out. Ruefully, he turned back and came toward me, while a sick fear settled like a lump of lead on my stomach . I looked around me. There, under his chair, lay the hat which had attracted me first. I picked it up, and was examining it when I heard the policeman say in a matter-of -f act voice, VVell, how much did you lose ?,' Mechanically, I felt my pockets. My watch, bill-fold, fountain pen, coin purse,-all gone. VVho is he? I gasped. '4That's Spell-binder Joe, he said. '4we've been trying to catch him for the last five years. Told you a wonderful story, didn't he? VVell, I'll report your case to head- quarters. I hope we catch him next time, and he sauntered out, swinging his night-stick. TO THE STAGE CREVV It's pleasant to stand in the spot- light And bow as the audience cheers, Itis nice, when the curtain is drop- ping, To catch the applause in your ears. It's easy to think you're an actor, To stand in the l'ight's brilliant glow, And to feel that the crowd has ac- claimed you The star of the evening's show. It's pleasant to read in the papers, The flattering dope that is there, It's nice to be talked of as famous, And asked to each social af fair, But it isn't so easy to labor Behind all the curtains and screens And work even more than the actors At changing the lights and the scenes. It's the person who works like a Trojan Behind the curtain and lights That never can share in the hand- clasps Right after the opening nights. That's why here at school we give credit To those to whom credit is due, And always make sure that our plaudits include The boys on the stage-setter's crew. -Arthur Arlett. 35 J