Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA)

 - Class of 1922

Page 29 of 70

 

Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA) online yearbook collection, 1922 Edition, Page 29 of 70
Page 29 of 70



Arcata High School - Advance Yearbook (Arcata, CA) online yearbook collection, 1922 Edition, Page 28
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Page 29 text:

But the mate had scoffed, while Prescott pressed his ear against a crack in the wall. "Pooh, never mind that fellow, he's perfectly harmless. Those wireless guys don't know anything, ex- cept sparks and dots and dashes. I'll take the wheel at ten or when it gets good and dark, and you have the boat ready. When you signal I'll lash the wheel and head her for the shoals. After that we'll strike out for land. It's only twenty miles east, and then we'll hit for South America or Alaska. Easy as fall- ing off a log, I call it." The captain had aquiesced, "Sure that'll be fine, I'm expecting foggy wea- ther in a few days and then we'll turn the trick. You see that the wireless is out of commission in case that Prescott fel- low should get wise to us." Prescott laughed to him self as he thot of it. "Going to sink the ship and then beat it with the money. Well, I'll see if I can't have a little fun out of this too. I wonder whose money they have on board. It must belong to the company. That old crook of a captain will get sal- vage off the Alaskan too. I'd like to send him up for this." He sat down in his chair and put the receivers on his head. The air was empty and after he had given his position to K.F.S., the Federal Telegraph Co's sta- tion in San Francisco, Prescott threw over his antenna switch for transmitting and called N.P.G., the station at Mare Island, and asked for the U.S.W.B. N. P.G. gave him the report and Prescott took it to the second mate, who had the watch at that hour. "I guess we are due for some foggy days," the mate replied to his query about the weather. "Yes and I bet something is going to happen," answered Prescott. Two days later, after slow progress, the "Alaskan" was off cape Mendocino and the barometer was falling. About eight o'clock that night Prescott gave his position to Radio N. P. W., Table Bluff, as 256 miles north of San Francisco. A dense fog was coming in from the west and soon the ship was enveloped in a grey mist. One could not see ten feet ahead. The mate called the captain and said, "Everything is ready to turn the trick tonight. " "All right," the captain said, "I'll get the money .and lower a boat and send the crew below, on some pretext, and you go and cut the wires so as to stop any messages Prescott might send out. In the meantime Prescott was at his set calling Table Bluff for radio compass hearings. As he signed off he noticed the antenna ammeter drop to 1 ampere, and finally his set went out of commis- sion. Generally the ammeter read 18 amperes with a 2 k.w. and Prescott won- dered what had happened. "Ah ha," he exclaimed, "I bet it's the mate trying to cut my lead in. I'd better go out and see. He stepped out side the door and looked at the antenna. The lead in was dangling in the air and he knew that the mate had done his trick. He stepped a- round the corner of the radio room where the lead in enters the wall through a large bushing insulator, and at the foot of the bridge steps he saw a man lying prone on his face clutching a pair of wire cutters. Prescott turned the body over and the outline to the third mate's face could be seen distinctly. What a sight! The electrical shock had turned the face purple and his hands were badly burned. Prescott tried to take the cutters from his grasp but the cold hand held them so tight that he could not move a finger. Leaning down, Prescott put his hand over the mate's heart. He did not feel a pulse or any sign of life. Suddenly steps were heard behind him, and Prescott saw the captain carrying a satchel. Quietly he slid out of sight. Hurreidly fixing the lead in, Prescott ran to the wireless room, and, throwing 24

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figure of his brother walking down the moonlit path, his money clasped close to him. He called to him softly, but Bartolo did not heed. Slipping out of his hammock, wonderingly, he followed. Out of the grove floated the man, his dead eyes staring ahead, his gaping wound ever bleeding, his face white and lifeless. Behind him, mechanically walked Bartolo, frantically clutching his gold, and, closely following Bartolo, trod his brothter, Piestro, across corrals, through the pastures, and into the dark menacing forest. The air was damp. Each step along the path crushed some delicate flower whose aroma filled the night air. Here a snake, going on its sly hunting, glided across the path, and there, two large eyes gleamed menacingly from the darkness. On walked the three--on and on-- deeper and deeper into the dark scented gloom. Then ahead the moonlight streamed on the "Campo", a well known swamp and fever spot of the tropics. The man paused on the edge of its dark grass-crested mud flats, then float- ed on across it. Without hesitation, Bar- tulo followed. Piestro stopped abruptly on the edge and in sudden terror voice sink- dark near him, sank his tried to call to Bartolo, but his choked. Bartolo walked onward, ing deeper and deeper into the death, until at length he stopped the center, looked frantically about and, with a long terrified scream, slowly into the dark murky depths, arms upraised beseechingly towards that blood-covered figure hovering silently above. That was long ago, and to-day the Mexicans speak of it in awed tones, and Guadalupe, the old guide, is the only one who will lead you to the spot. After pro- mising many pesos, I persuaded the old native to take me there. The swamp is gone now, and in its place is a small clearing covered with the luxuriant growths of the tropics. In the center of this clearing, stands a stump strangely like a human figure bathed in the warm atmosphere of the south and covered with age-old moss. As I stood looking at the weird spot, Guadalupe leaned forward, and, crossing himself, whispered ina cracked, awe-stricken voice, f'That stump, Senor, see, it is the body of Bar- tolo, encased in its tomb of mud, and see, in his upheld arms, the sack of pesos." I looked more keenly and saw, clutched in the arm-like branches of this weird stump, an object, which, in the pale moonlight, glittered strangely like gold. The air was still. This was indeed a place of death, for even the Niyaca, the most poisonous of snakes, slipped silent- ly away from its deadly edge. As I looked, I could almost see the stump transform- ed into Bartolo, his hands raised beseech- ingly to heaven, his face distorted with fear. Silently I turned from this place, and, feeling strangely as though this queer tale were true, went back to the trail, Guadalupe cringing behind me. Catharine Plant '22, Uhr Sv. GD. SP. The U.S. Shipping Board freighter "Alaskan", plying between San Diego and Vancouver, British Columbia, was steaming out into the Pacific with a cargo of fruit on board for a merchant in Seattle. Captain Henderson, or "Old Man Henderson" as the crew called him, was standing just aft the foremast with the usual angry scowl on his scarred and homely face. He was feared by the entire crew and his law was "might makes right." John Prescott, the chief wireless operator, was just going to relieve the second operator when he had bumped into the captain as he was coming up the companionway. The captain had been unusually cross, and as Prescott hurried to his set, he again wondered over the conversation he had over-heard that morn ing. "We could run her onto Muscle Shoals," the mate had said. "Sh, not so loud, "the captain had exclaimed. " I just saw that wireless guy go down below, I'm afraid he'll spoil our fun if he gets suspicious." 23



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over the antenna switch for transmitting started to send out a distress call. "Dit-- dit---dit---dah--dah--dah---dit--dit--dit---'' barked the quenched gap as Prescott cautiously and breathlessly formed the dots and dashes and sent this message: "U.S.S. Alaskan heading for mussel shoals. Captain and mate attempt to sink boat and escape with money on board. Help--hurry. " As he finished the message a sudden jar of the ship knocked Prescott off his feet. A sound of a ship's hull striking sand was heard. The ship shook from stern to stem, and he knew that the crash had split the bow in two. Frantically he sent out another S.O.S. "Alaskan hit Mussle Shoals and sink- ing fast. Bow under water and crew im- prisoned below. All life boats smashed." The ship was now sinking rapidly. Prescott ran to the port hole and saw that the water was covering the ship. He knew that immediate help was the only thing that could save anyone. Running back to his set, he heard the British Ship "Peebles," She was coming to their res- cue. He breathed a sigh of relief, and cz refully picking his way below, Prescott planned a way to free the imprisoned crew. As he reached the last step of the ccmpanionway, he came face to face with the captain. Suddenly the Alaskan gave a mighty shake. She rose up on her nose, and, with a last effort to right herself, she slid silently into the sea, making the innocent suffer for the guilty. When the English ship "Peebles" reached the spot in grey dawn an expanse of undisturbed sea greeted the captain's eyes. Somewhere there at the bottom lay the Alaskan and her crew. The real- ization that he had come to late surged thru the captain and he turned away from the bridge to go below. As he did so, a dark object, bobbing persistently at the ship's very side, attracted his notice. Quickly ordering the crew to investigate, he hurried to the lower deck and stood waiting by the rail. The object proved to be one of the Alaskan's victims, and as the sailors lifted the half-conscious man 25 to the deck they found, tied about his neck, a sack of money in which was the treasury record kept by the ship's com- pany. The name found in the wallet was that of John Prescott, chief operator of the U.S.S. Alaskan. Charles Vanoncini '23 lirinrnm lllathu I was sitting half asleep in a rocking chair, petting the Persian cat and trying to study my history. Her purring was so loud and different from that of other cats that I began to wonder. Suddenly the purring took on a new note and be- came more like a foreign language, then it changed into good American. This is what she said: "You say I am a cat. Well, Iam and also the Princess Hathu.You know that the Egyptians, thousands of years ago believed that when a person died his soul was transformed into the body of some animal." "I lived thousands of years ago in Egypt. My father's palace was near the delta of the Nile among tall palm trees. You have no idea of the splendor of the palaces built by large numbers of slaves taken captive in the wars waged by my famous father. Many times with him I have ridden on expeditions to discover unknown countries. The results of these expeditions were all carved on the walls of the temple. "As a child I was instructed in geometry and arithmetic. Iabominated both, but loved the music of the pipes and harp in which I was very excellent." "We had beautiful boats rowed by negro boatmen, andI was attended by negro women on my pleasure trips. On such occasions we often gathered the lo- tus flowers to decorate the palace and temple. "We had large glass manufacturing plants, and colored glass much better

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