Compton High School - El Companile Yearbook (Compton, CA)

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dQuien Sabe? Nippo was a large sheep dog, pure bred from a fighting stock. He was big, ugly, and shaggy, but his heart was true to Lucky joe. Lucky Joe was a very unlucky miner by trade Qand you might think him a union man, the way he stuck to itj. He had been mining in California ever since Old 49,' and was one of the few 'lOl' timers. 'fLucky Joe was named thus by young Bill Stoke, who, with fine irony one day said, joe, you're the luckiest man in camp, but old Simms, the night watchman, spoke in his easy accent, Don't worry none 'bout joe, hels got a good dawg anyway ,H and he stooped to pet, or rather scrape big Nippo down the back with his big calloused hand. Joe was sitting all this time over near the stove, half asleep, half awake, wondering. Suddenly he straightened up and asked, How far is Dead Lake from here? lim going there for a spell! No one answered until Hombre, the Mexican, said, f'Mucho long way, can not go there, mebbe water holes dry, quien sabe? Joe had had his vision, however, of a large stake to be had at Dead Lake, and he wanted it now. f'How far?'l he questioned. Bout leetle over hundred fifty mile. VVell, l'm going to pack up now, come on, Nippo. Youlre not going to kill this dog, too, are you, you fool? spoke up the night watchman, f'I'll keep him here. Nippo at that moment awoke, and seeing his master leaving, got up and followed him out. That afternoon Joe left, whether he would come home or not was doubt- ful, but these ready men did not question that-they questioned his previ- ous luck, and shook their heads. Four days did Joe travel, mostly over desert, plodding beside his pack mule, taking meager sips from his canteen and encouraging the dog. The water holes were indeed dry, but joe still held up by assuring himself that last year's rains would still be in Dead Lake. When he was yet a few miles away from Dead Lake, he stopped to rest and to cook dinner, when he espied a jack rabbit sitting on his haunches. Jack rabbit was good for a change of food, so joe took his long 30-30 rifle from his pack and aiming quickly, pulled the triggerg the jack rabbit gave a jump, and fell, and as Joe walked toward him, the jack rabbit crawled in his nearby hole. Now Joe was not to be cheated, so he started to dig the rabbit up. Scarcely had he dug three feet when he struck a .soft rock, and leaning over to dislodge it, examined it minutely, then gave a whoop and threw his rifie high in the air for sheer joy! he had struck a large gold nugget. His joy was turned to sorrow though, when his rifle hitting the ground with a thump, exploded, and the wild bullet struck Joe low in the chest, fell- ing him. Nippo, seeing this from his post of vantage on a slight sand dune, ran down to his master, fully aware of his danger and licked the wound tenderly. Joe, almost unconscious, knew that his life was going, and told Nippo to go back and get help. Nippo understood and trotted away toward home, no more frisking as he had done coming outg he had three hundred miles to travel, and he knew that steady trot, trot, trot. 26

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new sailors on board. As we sail along beneath the tropical sun, much ti1ne is spent in speculation over the day that we drop going west, and pick up coming back. Land ahead! Samoa, the gem of the South Sea Islands. The little har- bor of Pago Pago with its picturesque setting is the dearest, quaintest little spot on earth. We carry with us a pleasant memory of the tiny village sur- rounded by fern-covered hills, and of the friendly, sleepy-eyed, soft-voiced natives. VVe spend one of the most interesting days of our trip sightseeing in Suva, the capital of Fiji-land of the cocoanut, banana and bread fruit tree. The Fijian Islands are quite different from the islands of Samoa. The natives, unlike the Samoans, are tall, strong and well built and are exceedingly proud of their thick mop of hair which they shampoo with cocoanut oil so that it stands up like the quills of a porcupine. VVith a friendly farewell, we steam out of Fijian waters, bound for New Zealand. The second day out from Suva, when the gong sounds for breakfast, it brings no response from the passengers. They have lost all interest in life, for outside the wind is blowing a hurricane, the billows are rolling mountain high, and the ship is rearing and plunging like a bucking bronco. The waves break over our vessel and run off the decks like rivers. One moment we rise with the swell, then with shivering, creaking timbers, plunge headlong to what seems to us a watery grave. The Marama has run into a typhoon. For two days we are confined to our staterooms, too sick to care whether we live or die. The third day the storm abates and we venture out on deck. There are many interesting things to be seen. Some flying fish have been washed aboard by the waves, porpoises are leaping from the water about usg a magnificent albatross is circling overhead, and in the dis- tance whales are spouting water high in air. We are safe at last! The Marama has triumphed over the terrors of a typhoon. VVe steam into Auckland, New Zealand, twenty-four hours late. After a few hours run on the train, through some of the finest scenery in the world, we arrive at Wellington, a most picturesque little city built on the hillsides surrounding the harbor. Several days later, we embark for Mel- bourne on the S. S. Manuka. We sail around the South Island of New Zealand, under the Southern Cross, and stop a few hours at Hobart, Tas- mania, and on the ninth day arrive at Melbourne. This beautiful, modern city has the distinction of having the finest Botanical Gardens in the World. Here we tranship to the British liner Macedonia, and leave for Sydney. just after the sun has risen, our boat sails into Sydney Harbor-that veritable paradise of little hidden bays spread out in the big harbor in the shape of a maple leaf, so feathery is the shore line. The surrounding hills and promontories are covered with the native gum trees, shrubs, tree-ferns and other tropical foliage. VVhite houses with red roofs clotting the hillsides make a pretty picture against the green background. And along the 'water's edge are some wattle trees in bloom, their soft golden blossoms gleaming in the sunlight and casting a reflection in the water. One cannot imagine a more charming spot than this second finest harbor in the world. As we round the last promontory, Sydney comes into view, and our voyage is at an end. Steaming up to the wharf, our boat is made fast, and' we realize that we are now prepared to answer the inevitable question of all loyal Australians,- Have you seen Sydney Harbor?,' JEAN STEPHENSON, '21, 25

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He made that journey in two days and two nights, and by the end of that second day the party organized to follow Joe's dog. Meanwhile Joe, thinking to lessen the distance for his helpers, started to travel toward home, but had crawled very painfully less than a mile when he had to give up. Here he drank his last drop of water and lay still. VVhen the other men found him he was dead. Been dead for a day at least, was Bill's curt statement. The men found no diggings in sight and searching Joe, found no gold. Jake, an old regular, drawled, joe's old luck, while Mexican Hombre answered, Quien Sabe? ' W. HOPCRAFT, '21, My Mother As I sit here alone tonight, I think of you, O Mother mine, I think of your great love for meg I see your smiling, lovelit eyes, And seem to feel their soft embrace, Enfolding me in love so true That even now is thrills me thru To know that once you were my own, My Mother! My mother! how I miss you now! I sometimes wonder if you know How much I want you,-tho you're gone- How much I need your tender care, But most of all I want your love, The love that you alone can give, To guide me thru all doubt and fear, I want to say once more to you 3- My Mother! I long for just one more caress ,- To hear once more your voice so dear, The voice that now is ever still, I sometimes think my heart will break VVith longing for you, Mother mine. But God is good-with Him you are, And He will give me strength to live, To love, to serve, and then to find, My Mother! '21. 27