Bryant Junior High School - Junior Life Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

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THE JUNK) K LIFE 11 Suddenly It Sprang A Nicaraguan jungle. Tall jungle grass is everywhere. Beautiful birds flit to and fro. To obtain plumage of some of these birds men give up their lives. Suddenly a subdued rustling is heard in the grass. A spotted animal somewhat resembling a leopard pushes its way into a small clearing. A South American jaguar stalking its prey! Minutes elapse and abruptly without warning a white man strides into the clearing. What an ironical situation that a jaguar stalking its prey should he stalked in turn. Tensely the white man creeps forward. Meanwhile the jaguar by the aid of a half fallen tree has gained the low over-hanging branches of another tree. The hunter sights his gun and fires only to find he has wounded and not killed the huge beast. The jaguar's mouth is foaming with rage. The huge tawny animal squats on his haunches preparatory to a spring. The hunter raises his gun to sight. The jaguar tenses his muscles to spring. In unison there is a flash of tawny hide and the crack of a high powered rifle. Who survived? The man or the jaguar? Fate only knows. • • The Legend of Spirit Island Many years ago, when the Indians roved freely along the wcxided shores of Lake Mille Lac, there dwelt among the Chippcwas a beautiful princess. Her beauty acted as a charm to protect her tribe from enemies, and this charm could he broken only at her death. Thus, it was the desire of every op|x sing warrior to capture the princess and break the charm. At this time came a Sioux invasion, and one morning during the thick of battle, to the horror of her people, she could he found nowhere. Suddenly, as though he had dropped from the spacious heavens, there came a breathless messenger with the appalling news of, “Our princess has been captured.” At once a frantic search for the missing girl was begun, and search parties combed the forest, leaving not a stone unturned. Depressed and grief-stricken they returned to the camp, unsuccessful. At sun-down as they were appealing to the “Great Spirit, one of the squaws looked out at the little rocky island and there saw the princess, their princess, with a band of Sioux warriors. Almost instantly canoes were silently and swiftly gliding through the gathering twilight to her rescue. But when they reached the island they found a dead princess, her ruby-red blood splashed upon the rocks. Reverently they took her back to the camp, and with many ceremonies and much mourning they sent her to the “Great Spirit. Now at twilight, when the lake is like a mirror, her spirit sings the Indian lullaby from Spirit Island whose rocks arc still splotched with red. —Roberta Nelson.

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10 THE JUNIOR LIFE (Editor’s Note: Erling ELng has been recognized as ihe 9A short-short story writer. Here arc samples of his stories.) Tidal W ave It is noon in a small town on the Gulf. An impending storm has been threatening all morning. From a room in one of the hotels a view can he had of the Gulf. A shattering crash breaks the silence! Glass sprinkles the floor as one of the windows facing seaward collapses before a vicious onslaught of wind. Drops of rain blow across the room, spotting the opposite wall. Suddenly a tense voice is heard. Great God! A tidal wave! Citizens, eyes glassy with horror, stare at the huge, black wall of water suddenly revealed two hundred yards out in the Gulf. On its top is a crest of spray like the mane of some monster. The wave, its crest growing higher at an alarming rate, hovers hungrily above the city which suddenly is dwarfed to a bee hive by this gigantic upheaval of the sea. Then, without warning it bursts! The city is instantly changed to a foaming holocaust. Buildings seem to be humans helplessly fighting off the resistless enemy. Slowly the hideous din subsides. And it is now that the sea draws back. Buildings which had resisted that first onslaught crumble before that mighty undertow as the sea sweeps back its destruction. A mass of timbers, humans, roofs, cars, whole cottages are hungrily digested by that foaming, raging sea. This mass of destruction was once a small city. How helpless is man in the face of Nature! A Short, Short, Story The night was dark. From a tree outside the old house on the hill queer shapes could be seen flitting to and fro. And all the while it was raining. Suddenly a streak of lightning flashed revealing the attic's interior. It was empty save for a dark shape huddled in a corner while diagonally across the room from it stood a huge sideboard from whence issued weird groans from a small box echoing and re-echoing through the high ceilinged halls. The flashes of lightning became so numerous now that it was possible to perceive the tense drama being unwound inside the attic of the old house. Suddenly as though meditating some act of evil, the shape moved! Taking form, it crept slowly across the room to where the anguished groans were sounding forth. Suddenly, as though deliberating, the figure stopped short. Then, as though driven by some ulterior motive, it raised the box above its head and flung it down the shadowed staircase. The groanings ceased abruptly. The Binks Bath Salts Crooner Crooned No More!

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12 THE JUNIOR LIFE The Legend of Tonkawampus Many years before the white man ever saw beautiful Lake Minnetonka, there lived on the banks of the shining waters a great and good chief, mightiest of all the Chippewas, Tonkawampus, with his, the largest village in the Chippewa country. Now the Sioux near the boundary were sending raiding parties into the Chippewa country, most of which were fairly effective, and had stirred up much indignation in Tonka wampus’s village. Tonkawampus with a mere handful of warriors set out to meet the oncoming Sioux. They camped on a butte overlooking the North Arm of Lake Minnetonka (now Camp Tonkawa, B.S.A.). As evening came on, the Chippewas were about to turn in for the night, when the scouts who had been sent to look over the surrounding country came thundering up to Tonkawampus and reported breathlessly that they had sighted the war canoes of the Sioux coming along about two miles from the point. Tonkawampus ordered out more scouts to verify the report, and they returned immediately reporting it correct. About two hours after sunset the sharp ears of the expectant Chippewa warriors were greeted with the slap and gurgle of the paddles as the canoes of the Sioux came stealthily across the bay. The night was dark, and the moon was behind many clouds as silently the Sioux warriors beached their long war canoes and came slowly toward the waiting Chippewas. When the Sioux were about half way up the incline, the moon burst through the clouds, flooding the pathway with light. Taking this as a sign from Manitou, the Chippewa warriors pierced the air with their bloodcurdling war cries and poured forth a volley of arrows into the Sioux forces. Taken by surprise, the Sioux retreated; and taking their advantage, the Chippewa, under Tonkawampus, charged down the hill to the ledge which formed a natural fort. The Sioux rallied their forces and seeing this, Tonkawampus decided to retreat to safety at the top of the hill. One by one, Tonka-wampus’s warriors crept up the hill until Tonkawampus was left alone. Then by some ill omen, the Sioux slowly began to creep up the side of the hill until the warriors on the crest of the hill realized that there was no hope that Tonkawampus would ever escape. Then in the ear of the medicine man spoke Manitou: “To save your chief from dishonor, roll my stone from its ledge.’ The Indians then remembered Manitou’s rock, which lay on a small ledge near the edge of the hill. They rushed to it and with their combined strength the boulder first rocked and then tumbled from its ledge. From side to side it swayed in thundering descent; then like a miracle the huge rock settled into Tonkawampus’s hollow, and saved him from death at the hands of the Sioux.