Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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16 THE BRANKSOME SLOGAN. LOST Lost ! Ah, but that word doesn t mean anything at all until you ' ve really been lost, even if it is only six in the evening and a mile or two from your destination. It was all Dick ' s fault that I ever found myself in such a plight, and as Dick is a little bay pony which cannot speak for himself, 1 can tell my story without fear of contradiction. One fall day I started from home immediately after dinner on a sixteen-mile ride to school. 1 forgot, indeed, how short the days were becoming, and how long we had chatted over our noonday meal, and in this happy state of forgetfulness 1 did a very wise thing — took a new trail over which I had been driven once. The first four miles of the way I knew perfectly, and the next two passed like a flash, for an acquaintance was riding out the same road, and little Dick puts forth his swiftest paces when he has equine ( ?) company. But when our paths diverged, and Dick and I settled down for the ten miles straight south, all his enthusiasm evaporated. If I touched him with the whip he would bounce into a half-hearted gallop, shake it out into a trot, and slow down into a walk, all in six times his ow]i length. This was very tiresome for us both, and it was quite a rest for him sometimes to stop altogether and nibble the grass beside the trail. So we proceeded seven or eight miles, until I suddenly noticed the sinking sun and informed Dick that we must hurry. Dick, being a very wise little horse, knew that I meant it, and dropped his dawdling ways. At this rate we would be there in twenty minutes or so — but, behold my trail, without any warning, spread out fan-like before me; it was. a choice of three. When I want an inexhaustible subject on which to talk, I shall choose the in-follow-bility of trails. At present all I can say is that, all positions being relative, and not knowing exactly where I was, I didn ' t know quite where I wanted to go ; neither could I guess whicli of the serpentine trails before me would finally wind up at my destina- tion ; so I chose the middle course and urged Dicky on. The rail dipp-ed into a black-looking hollow behind a bluff. Too dark for me, I ' ll strike south and find my usual trail, ' thought 1. When in doubt, never change trails, would be as possible a proverb as never change horses crossing a stream. Trails just have a way of moving right out of the country as soon as your back is turned. I couldn ' t find my usual route, nor could I find again the one I had deserted. Finally I came to a standstill, knee-deep in rustling brown prairie grass, dusk settling all around me, peeping stars overhead, and nothing to tell me where to go.

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THE BRANKSOME SLOGAN. 15 caricatures the laugh of man. He lives on snakes, and as our snakes are nearly all very poisonous, we feel friendly towards him. The mopoke and curlew both have dismal cries. The former says mopoke, or more pork ' over and over monotonously. The curlew has a very shrill, penetrating cry. Among the larger birds is the emu, a brown gray bird, smaller than the ostrich, the ibis, the wild turkey and the black swan. This last may be seen in many swamps, and is very stately and graceful. Among the Grampian mountains, some forty miles from here, there is undisturbed bush. A profusion of wild flowers, heaths white, pink and purple, cover the ground. A tiny creek from the hills mur- murs sleepily along between banks embowered in ferns; gum trees whisper, the wattles softly sigh in answer, the glossy leaves shimmer; a bird calls, perchance a beady-eyed lizard stares in silent wonder at the intruder, standing alone among the sounds and silences and the indescribable loneliness of the Australian bush. He is very close to the heart of Mother Nature, old and wise, whose laws and plans vain, foolish Man seeks so often to undo. Australia.- G. M. Cross. CHARACTER IN HORSES Late one spring afternoon I was riding home from school on my velvet-footed Cricket, when, as we rounded a bluff, his ears pricked up and his step quickened. A broad ravine was before us, and on the far side a dozen horses were grazing. Cricket was so interested that the flock of prairie chickens, usually startled at this point, failed to frighten him. That danger over, I, too turned my attention to the horses. If our horses were amongst those, I thought, that black one with his head up would be Coalie — Coalie, the most sociable and kindly of horses, would be first to notice a stranger. On we came, Cricket in a hurry, I rather nervous. As we drew near, all the horses looked up and moved inquisitively towards us ; all save one. Again I said mentally, If our horses were here, you, you unsociable creature, would be my Dick. ' Almost as the thought formed in my mind, the haughty little head raised slowly, gave one long, cool stare at Cricket, then continued cropping the grass. There ' s only one Dick in the world, and at close range one couldn t mistake him. I looked again at the black horse and laughed aloud. Coalie and Dick, straying around with a neighbor ' s horses, had forced them- selves upon my notice, each by his most pronounced characteristic Not one of the others had I noticed. Jean M. Eoss.

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THE BRANKSOME SLOGAN. 17 In that locality it is very bluffy, and the little islands of trees obstruct the view. Besides, every other section is company land, not yet sold; and of the homesteading sections, three out of every four quarters were taken up by bachelors. Being the fall and threshing- time, practically all of those men ' s shacks would be deserted, so that I might easily be a mile or two from anyone, and sometimes a mile is a very long way. Dick was a most irritating companion. On his back I had to urge him constantly; walking, I had to drag him. He knew quite well that I didn ' t know where I wanted to go, and he was well pleased with the grass where he was. However, he was better than nothing, and we worked along in what I judged was the right direction, when presently I saw a light — a big, pale light in what, I was sure, was not the right direction. It was a long way off, but I couldn ' t bear to lose sight of it and be in the dark once more. Yet it puzzled me, because it was so big and pale. Suddenly I understood, and turned to go back — but didn ' t. Pough — pough — pough sounded breathily and lazily across the quiet prairie, and a light column of smoke accompanied the giant ' s breath- ing. A threshing outfit it was, and that light came from a caboose or cook-car. The day was a public holiday, and the engine had not been working, yet the men were on hand for an early morning start. At last, after much halting, I m ade my way, leading Dick, up to a knot of men and asked them the way to Mr. G ' s. And here I got the biggest surprise of all. All the group, evidently from a dis- tance, referred me to Jake, who, leaning against a gate-post, told me to follow this trail (I wasn ' t on one) for some indefinite distance, passing all other trails till I came to a wire. fence on the right. This I was to follow (direction not stated) till I came to Mr. G ' s corner. This I was to recognize by intuition. That ' s the only man of his kind I ever met in the west, but I had run across him at an inopportune time for me. One of the other men lighted a lantern and ouided me up the trail, and said that now I would get there all right. After what seemed ages I did come to a fence, but on the left. As a fence encloses a space, I might have spent the night dragging Dick around it. I pulled him a little way round in each direction, but knew it was waste time, so I had to put my pride in my pocket and turn back to the threshing outfit. I could be sure of finding that, for the engine was now whistling frequently. But my troubles were just at an end. I saw a moving light and made for it with frantic haste, shouting as I drew near. The light began to move rapidly towards me, and voices said : Wait, we ' re