Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA)

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The little boy could hunt and fish. He was lithe and supple, and the pride of his father and mother- His mother happily dreamed of the time when he would be a young man. She was always making beautiful clothes for him, trim- ming them with beads and porcupine quills. Little Bravo had the most beautiful moccasins of all the boys in his tribe. One summer night it grew very warm, and Little Bravo's father predicted a storm. Missing the child, he anxiously inquired of his wife, Where did Little Bravo go P He is down by the river asleep, she answered. I sat by him a long time, brushing away the insects that bothered him. His little yellow moccasins are by him. He is very beautiful, our Little Bravo. I will carry him in when the storm comes, without awakening him. The storm soon broke with great violence. The mother hastened to the river, and just as she was about to lift her boy, a vivid flash of lightning revealed the two hands of the Spirit who lives in the water. They reached up and drew Little Bravo into the waves. All the mother saw was the print of his body on the shore, and his two yellow moccasins. Her screams brought the father to the shore. They both rushed into the water, but could not find their son. They plead with the Great Spirit to give him back to them again, but in vain, for he had been taken to the Happy Hunting Grounds- The father turned sadly into the forest. The mother would not be comforted, but sat by the river day after day, without food, kissing and caressing the little moccasins. One evening as she was by the river. she saw the pathway made of flower dust. the milky way, which leads to the Spirit Land. How she would like to follow that road! Suddenly, she felt some one touch her, and, turning around, met the smiling gaze of her.son. Oh Great Spirit, I thank Thee! The dead is alive! The boy merely said, Come, we are going to follow that pathway. I have come for you because your weeping grieves the happy ones. The mother eagerly clasped the small hand. Here are your moccasins. You might need them, for the way' may be long and rough. The child showed her his feet, and on them were golden slippers. Lay down the moccasins. and you will see how a mother's love shall be re- membered. he said. The mother put the yellow moccasins on the ground, and a plant immediately sprang up. It grew rapidly. On the highest branch the moccasins were fastened. They shrunk in size and changed into flowers keeping their original shape and color. Little Bravo said: See! these Howes shall bloom forever by the shining river. Long after the Redmen go, they shall bloom. VVondering, but happy, the mother followed Little Bravo to the Happy Land. Later, in the midst of a battle, the father joined them. This occurred long ago- The Indians have left the banks of that river, but the slipper flowers continue to bloom there- The white children gather them and call them Lady Slippers, but the Indians always call them by their real name. In- dian Moccasins. . DULCIE GREENWOOD.

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Slowly and sadly I turned away, Yet I felt no pang of sorrow, For I knew he would be in a happier land When he woke on the morrow. But now each night, as I trudge home From school all by my lonely, I often sigh, and think of him That I once loved so fondly. Oh! friends, I've lost a noble steed He was my joy and pride. This world is ups and downs to me Since my poor camel died. VVM- CARROLL. THE IVIOCCASIN PLANT In the spring and early summer, the grass is fresh and green, and the bees buzz merrily as they Hit from flower to tlower. The birds sing and twitter in every bush and tree, thrilling our hearts with joy. The roadside and fields are dotted with white and pink daisies. Violets blue and yellow cover the hillside, and the wild strawberry peeps from every rock and tuft of grass. The wild currant, also, with its bunches of pink blossoms, abounds throughout the woods, and along the fences the cherry with its delicate white flowers grows in wild profusion. In the woods under the stately redwoods, nod triliums, dainty little bluebells and star-Bowers. Along the creeks, green mosses of varied hues cover the rocks and ground like a velvet carpet, with here and there a cluster of gold or silver leaf fern. On the banks, great bunches of five finger and sword fern grow, making a beautiful ar- bor, suitable for any Fairy Queen. Then, in shady nooks, the little Lady Slipper grows in delicate shades of pink and white. The Indians call it the Moccasin Plant from the following pretty little legend: Years ago, a tribe of Indians lived on the banks of a beautiful river. The women used to sit by this river and chat. One young mother never took her eyes off the cradle where her baby boy slept. She called him Little Bravof ' Time passed on, until Little Bravo was ten years old-

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TITLE ? The High School student wandered home at last, Took off his shoes as Father's room he passed, And finally, got safely into bed And thanked his stars that his folks slept so fast. He had been out to an exclusive feed, And there had gorged himself far past his need, For scarcely had he touched the pillow white, When came the prancing nightmare, fiery steed. He dreamed that he'was dead Koh! dreadful fatelj And rode the mare up to St. Peter's gate, Dismounted, and for entrance there he knocked, St. Peter came, and to him thus he spake: Aha! what have we here? Lets have a look! Methinks, from casual glance, you're not a crook But wait my son, and I will soon find out Your pedigree-it's in the Judgment Book. St. Peter put his glasses on his nose, Hum, here we are, your crimes we'll now expose: And as he read, his face much sterner grew, At last he turned, his voice like thunder rose. Accursed wretch, unconscientious man, You've kidnaped Sophs, and murdered one Freshman You've stayed up nights when you should be in bed And once, it says, away from home you ran, You've worried teachers till their hair is gray, You've never done but mischief all your day, And once, it reads, you smoked a cigarette. St. Peter paused, then sentence did he say. In Hades you must spend a million years. Oh, Pete, have mercy! cried he through his tears You shall endure the tortures of the damned And ponder o'er the sins of your career. On pins you'll sit and study poetry, Milton, Browning, and more picked out by me, In Chemistry, you will cut oh' your toe, Its composition you will try and see. The student woke and fell out of his bed, And wiped the sweat drops from his aching head, But soon the horror died out in his eyes, I wonder what I ate last night F he said. ,JAMES ANDERSON. Y