Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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22 Thk Branksome Slogan prostrate. At that instant, a company of horsemen rode out from a grove of trees on the far side of the road, there- by cutting off his retreat. The only avenue of escape lay in attempting to ride through the almost impassable bar- rier of trees which confronted him. Al- thouh fully aware of the futility of riding over such ground, it seemed the only alternative, other than surrender. Leaping into the saddle and spurring his horse, Georges disappeared behind the wall of trees! His failure to hear the resultant sounds of the other horses, led him to the conjecture that his pursuers had dismounted, in favour of a quicker advance on foot. Knowing the forest to be very large in extent, strengthened his presumption, as it would require a much larger number of men to patrol it than this band represented. Tyin the reins to the saddle, Georges leaped off his frightened horse, quickly climbed into the upper branches of a giant yew! Standing in the crotch of the yew, which swayed in the wind, the moaning of the dark tree-tops seemed to fill him with a sudden desolation and uneasiness, as he strained to catch the tell-tale sounds of his pursuers. He had not long to wait. Two horsemen went running past, their spurs jingling in unison with their laboured breathing. Georges paused to satisfy himself that no more were following, then cautiously descended from his lofty perch, and struck off through the forest. He re- gained the road, as he had planned, at such a point as would enable him to dis- cern the movements of his enemies with safety. Approaching within fifty paces of a soldier guarding the deserted horses, Georges picked up a couple of stones which he hurled in amongst the trees acjoss the road. The guard, recovering from his first fright, rode off accosting the still forest in a loud voice, not devoid of fear. Quickly selecting a likely mount, Georges swung into the saddle and was off like a flash down the road. Thereupon, some of the remaining horses j taking fright, bolted, and dashed off in a similar fashion. The rest of the horse- men hurried back to their comrade to learn what all the uproar was about, i When the truth was discovered, the re- maining horses were instantaneously mounted, and dashed off in pursuit, while the horseless men resorted to curses as they stamped up and down in the dust. What are we to ride back on — rabbits? roared one lusty soul. The uncomfortable guard made no re- ply; he was sitting apart from his irate companions with sullen glance and ex- tremely red cars, being obliged to listen to the rude jests which sponsored the loud guffaws directed against him. Meanwhile, travelling along the road j at a breakneck pace, Georges ran into a j detachment of the enemy, resting by the wayside after their morning manoeuvres. Astonishment greeted them as they beheld a hostile horseman riding through their i midst. Shoot, you fools! shouted the com- mander in a frenzied voice. A dozen cross-bows were unslung and a dozen arrows sped through the dust of the vanishing horse and rider. Georges Savary, bent low over the saddle, his hair streaming out behind in the wind, was soon out of range. Reigning in his exhausted horse, he turned and waved gaily; then removed an arrow imbedded in the saddle, in rather close proximity to his leg. Soon the ring of horse-hoofs met his ears, causing him to quicken his pace. The infuriated horse-soldiers arrived at their infantry detachment amid noisy and excited exclamation. Didst thou see a bold youth clad in black armour pass here on horse? they questioned. By the Bones of Saint Michael, was the rejoinder, he would be here await- ing you if our arrows had sped truel

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The Branksome Slogan 21 Hoof-Beats The bridge spanning the moat was lowered with a clang! A tall, handsome youth, clad in black armour and mount- ed on a black horse, rode forth, as the blare of trumpets sounded his departure. He was in a retrospective mood, this Georges Savary, as he rode away between the smiling fields and stately woodlands. His journey led him to the castle of an uncle, in whose service he had won much favour. The morning breeze tossing the golden curls which fell from under his black helmet, also stirred the poplar leaves to merriment, and carressed the nodding daisies by the wayside. The broad lands of sunny Normandy lay peacefully sleeping under the azure skies of an early May, and upon the blue dis- tances, which always inspired in Georges a vague longing, he set his eyes and fell into a muse. While riding along through a dense forest, Georges ' attention was arrested by a man lying near the road and moan- ing as if in great pain. Thinking that the unfortunate man had been the victim of robbers, and desiring to render aid, Georges dismounted and led his horse over to where the wounded man lay

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The; Branksome: Si ogan 23 It was a travel-worn Georges that turned off the road into a copse of ever- greens a few minutes later. He continued on his unhurried way by a foot-path, leaving his pursuers the whole road, be- cause as he nonchalantly reminded him- self, They are in a far greater hurry than I am . A moment later, the last statement was verified, when he heard them galloping past. Georges ' tawny locks were clotted with dust, yet the faint glimmering of a smile stole across his sun-browned face, as he lazily swung a long leg over the pommel. When twi- light was descending upon a hushed world, towers and battlements slowly rose out of the distance, the roofs and gables gilded by the glory of the sunset. Georges ' dark eyes sought the spot, clear-cut against the eastern sky, and his glance softened as he gazed upon the en- circling walls and turrets which promised welcome. The Belgian Ranch A large ranch lies in the beautiful foothills of Alberta. It was built many years ago by a certain Lord Pirmez. But after a few years the old man died willing his farm to no one. As time passed on, the buildings were robbed of their red paint and left grey and life- less, and several of the sheds were tumbl- ing down. Nevertheless, the ranch is still very beautiful, for a clear, babbling brook finds its way through lovely green pastures, up to the old ranch buildmg, where it runs just a few rods from the house. Huge evergreen trees border the bank through the whole of its course, and small, rustic seats are situated under the largest of these near the ranch buildings. At the point where the brook runs nearest the house, a little bridge stretches from one bank to the other, and further down its course a large tree droops its branches over so far that they touch the other side, so that it makes a perfect crossing place for the little red squirrels which are seen work- ing and playing continually in the trees. A little to the east of the house, lie the horse stables, barns and sheds. The stables are placed in a long row, each one separated from the other by a low par- tition that does not quite reach the roof, so that all the stables are connected with each other by the opening at the top. On each stable door is painted in big grey letters the name of the horse or cow that is within. Jipp, Sukey, Pansy, Queen of Spades, Prince, Beauty, Madge, Tiny, Indian Maid, and Princess are some of the names posted. At the back of the stables, lies a huge barn that towers above all the other buildings, like a great mountain. If you enter through the small door at the side, you will find yourself in a great airy building. At one end you see a number of stalls for the big work-horses that toil with plough, mower and rake. A large passage-way is left between the two slid- ing doors for the big hay wagon, which separates these stables from a part of the barn which is filled almost to the roof with lovely fresh hay from the sunny hay fields. It is this that causes that lovely sweet odour to fiill your nostrils; it is this that makes the big building smell so fresh, clean and inviting, and it is this that makes you linger and sniff the air longingly. When you step from the door into the open you feel that there is nothing in the world that is so lovely and sweet-smelling as new-mown hay. A little way from the barn is a big red wooden gate connecting the ranch building with the plentiful pastures be- yond. Just at the left of the gate a