Cleveland High School - Legend Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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Li1e, ' 9 i c f ' om ly C idJi il9 i J

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BERBER RETURN OF THE BELOVED JAUN ' ITA TUXSTAI.L For fifteen years ha e I andereii, murmured Ahmed Ben Hassen as lie lifted his finely cut head to the desert heavens, and n ) - I return to my heloved father. Poor father! He was e ' er kind to his errinij son, and e en these long years of separation cannot have taken his love from me. And little Hermos — little Hermos — The clear gray of the young Arab ' s eyes filmed A itli tears of love and anticipated pleasure. Davna, the slim gray horse he had purchased in Cairo, moved through the early morning at a good pace, for he, too, was looking forward to the comforts of the oasis which lay twenty miles to the south, farther into the depths of the Sahara. It Avill he pleasant to hear the groans of the sleeping camels, and the sigh of the shifting sands once more, rambled on the dreamy Ahmed, and I shall tell my father of the ways of the American ; and with the money hich I have honestly earned, we will add a dozen camels to the string. For my fair Hermos I shall build the little white house with vines, as the one in which resides my friend John Doring, and his wife. I wonder — ' The intense silence, which engulfed the silvery desert for miles around, was relieved by the mono- tonous thud of many hoofs on soft sand. It cannot be, cried young Ahmed, that m ' father has heard of his son ' s arrival, and comes forth to welcome him to the sanctuar ' of his home! But yes — they see me — Ahmed, as he sat the impatient Davna, looked down thoughtfully at his white riding breeches, shirt and light riding boots. I should have been adorned in the robes of my countrymen, he thought vaguely. A party of perhaps twelve horsemen topped a ridge of sand dune immediately before the bov, hesitated, then swept down the inter ening space, leaving a lone horseman silhouetted against the gray sky, in which just a suspicion of dawn appeared. With a little cry, and a futile, protective move- ment toward the small fortune «hich la in the carriers of his silver-trimmed saddle, Ahmed turned Davna and fled as if he were a man possessed. The flowing robes and majestic bearing of the lone horseman proclaimed a bandit sheik, a desert outlaw. When dawn came, with a breath of hot wind, a party of robed horsemen entered a quiet oasis. A slim gray horse, sweating beneath the weight of heavy, silver-trimmed saddle, though empty, tested the coolness of a deep basin of water. The tall, majestic individual sat his heavy black, his covetous eyes taking in the sensitive, drooping ears and slim legs of his recently acquired stable addition. It is a wonder, he spoke in an aside to one of his followers, it is a wonder that a dog of a foreigner should have such taste in the selection of a mount. Did iiu procure the papers from his body? I will then have coffee. Call Hermos! The head-dress throA n back, the renegade ap- peared as he really was: a sad, bent old Arab. There was a light, half tragic, half satisfied, in his cold eyes as he sat drinking, with a lovely girl, the black desert coffee. It is just one more point toward revenge, my Fairest of the Fair. We hope for the return of our beloved Ahmed, but he will never return. Nay, never! Those white dogs ha e him in their in- terests. He is no longer Ahmed Ben Hassen, proud son of the desert, but an American merchant. He cares not enough about his people to write and tell them how he fares. A bitterness unusual even in the passionate tribe to which the old man belonged was in his voice. Bring to me the papers secured from this last degraded offering of fate, and we will see if he was worth the energy my men expended. A fair chase he gave, on that wisp of wind he rode, but now — Ah ! But were all the tribes of the lowly white nations b ' his side, slain by the hand of Ahmed Ben Hassen ' s aged father! Hermos stood before him, straight and lithe in her soft silken robes. The papers were held in one trembling white hand, just out of the old man ' s reach. But, jVIaster, she ventured, perhaps those men whom you have slain and robbed so mercilessh ' are the trea.;ured sons of some equally fond father! Perhaps even they have a Hermos waiting for their safe return in some far countr ' ! ( ! Father of Ahmed, return to your gentle occupation of camel driver, and leave Allah to his work! Even now Ahmed may be returning to us, though for fifteen Pai e 21