Conneaut High School - Tattler Yearbook (Conneaut, OH)

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6 THE TATTLER THE MASTIFF FROM WOLF RIVER CAME. “Git up, Bill. Git up. It’s half past four now and we gotta be gitten' out of here.” It was Tom Shortman, or, to get acquainted with him it was “Shorty,” William Klamn’s partner, a veteran trapper, who spoke. Klam.i was also a trapper, hut, although he had been in the wilds of Canada only about a year, he was nearly as skilled as Shorty. Nothing but slight movement from the slumberer rewarded Shorty’s efforts, however. “By gum, you’ll open those lamps o’ yours now, I’ll bechu.” With that he grasped a pitcher of water from the table and emptied the fluid over the innocent sleeper. “Galloping grasshoppers,” Bill exploded. “I thought I was being massacred.” “You otta be fer 6noozing at this late hour. Pile out o’ there an help git breakfast. It snowed a lot last night an’ even our snow shoes’ll sink in quite a bit cus it hasn’t had time to form a crust and Wolf Hollow Camp is a long way off. It sure was some lucky we reached this shack las’ night fer altho’ we have weathered worse storms than this, I’ll own up though I’d rather be snowed in here than out in that blizzard. But the bye’s at the camp ’ll want their cash just as soon as they can get it. I’ll— ouch! Consarn it, what’s on that chair!” “O. nothing but an exchange for your kindness. Why didn’t you give me a gentle touch? I would have awakened instantly, and you call this late? Why didn't you stay up all night so as to be up early enough in the morning?” “Well, I think when you git there you’ll see why we got up before noon.” This last statement proved to be only too true. “Well, your grub’s ready, so sit down and pitch in.” An hour later the small outfit was packed. Snowshoes were fastened and the two set out for Wolf Hollow Camp. What a world it was! Great banks of white fluffy snow piled everywhere! The trees were topped with it and scattered flakes come floating down, for it had nearly stopped snowing now. The two trudged along at a lively gait, now stopping to rest, now traveling swiftly along. They had spoken little except when stops were made to get “wind” as Shorty put it. During one of those stops the peculiar howl of the timber wolf came quiveringly through the forest. It caused no little concern to the trappers; but as time wore on and the cry was not again detected by their ears, the matter was forgotten to all outward appearances until after awhile the silence was broken by,—“Well, I cal’ate we’re half way there but we’ve been about six hours a’ready an we’ve only got about five more to wind up in before dark. Now if a wolf’ll holler in plain daylight it suie means he’s some hungry, but still they haven’t hollerd but once. What tha—” Bang! bang! bang! Three shots in rapid succession came from underbrush to their left. As they turned Bill felt a cold steel gun barrel thrust over his shoulder, then followed a “Hands up!” Bill wheeled around to see an Indian confronting him, his Winchester ready for action and a wicked smile on his face. “Heap Running Beaver get heap cash and go. If he not get it he shoot heap palefaces. Now give

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C. .J. KKKW, The Florist, State St. IMione 1281 5 neaut High School several years before. One 'was In Yale uniform and the other was on the side lines in the crowd. The big fellow, who was standing on the side lines was a sophomore in Yale, said that he was going to work and see that Yale won from Harvard on Thanksgiving day. He journeyed home after the game, tired and worn out, and it did not take him long to find a resting place; for 'when he reached home, which wras several miles out in the country, he found that the house was locked, and he went out and lay down in the barn on some straw. He soon fell asleep, although the game was not forgotten. The season passed away and the day which was tc every one but Yale and Harvard, Thanksgiving day, but to them it was a day of great mental and physical 9train, soon came around. Neither team had lost a game during the season. The crowd hai congregated and the two teams marched on the field for the final clash, and at the end of the Yale column the big player who had vowed at the first game of the season to see Yale to victory, w'alked in with a smile on his face, and all of the Yale fans had their eyes centered on him. The day was a dark and dreary one but nevertheless the field was crowded with spectators The placers were racing up and down the field with the ball, but when the whistle sounded everything was quiet, the players took their places and the kick off was made. The ball was kept in the center of the field in a small radius, sometimes it looked as if one side was a little the best and then the other, but at the end ot the first qurater the ball was on Yale’s forty yard line. The next quarter was with the same results, although at one time, Yale had the ball on Harvard’s twenty yard line but at the end of the first half it was in the center of the field. The second half started off with a rush with one good pass and a fake buck. Yale had the bail up on Harvard’s ten yard line but lost on downs. Harvard lost on their first three downs and then punted back to Yale’s forty yard line and downed there. The ball seesawed back and forth until the third quarter was up. At the beginning of the fourth quarter each team was determined to score. Harvard carried the ball back to Yale’s ten yard line. It was at the time that this old Conneaut guard was called from the side lines to take Stoughton’s place at full. The crowd began to cheer and the first signal was through center and he went diving like a mad bull for a gain of about ten yards. The same play was worked again for an equal gain. Some more of the same kind of bucking was worked until the ball was up to Harvard’s twenty yard line. The signal was given for a full around end and with a good interference the ball was carried 10 the goal line, but just as he reached the goal two of Harvard’s big line men hit him, one on each side, and he hit the goal post with his head, but the bail was over the line. Emerson l ee was lying with his head up against a milking stool and one of the big black mules was standing on each side of him. Well.” he said to himself in a low voice, ’’Childs and Graham, those big Harvard guys, hit me most awful hard.” ROY EVANS. ’15.

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C. .1. FHEW, The Florist, State. St. Phone 1281 i me money.” “You'll have to fight for it.” cried Shorty, who had edged to a right angle where Bill stood. As Shorty uttered his last exclamation the red skin turned in his direction and Will lunged toward him, grasping the rifle as he did so. The Indian shrieked out a cry of rage and a fight for dear life commenced. Shorty would have assisted his friend but another cry came from behind and he wheeled into another foe. Will's combatant was less powerful than himself but he clung to the rifle with a grip like iron, now trying to get the muzzle toward his foe, now trying to wrench it from his grasp. Three times shots went into the air but found no marks except the trunks of nearby trees. Shorty was having ‘‘quite a lively time” as he put it. His foe was armed but not with a gun, a knife. When Shorty had turned on him, it was so unexpected that the weapon had only grazed hi6 shoulder, and he grabbed the wielder’s wrist. The latter was not an Indian, however, but a lumberman from Wolf River Camp. Both men were six-footers and it was an even struggle until by a dextrous movement Shorty tripped his combatant and both went heavily to the ground with the trapper on top. Shorty shot a glance to where he had last seen his friend and the Indian, but where were they? There was no sign of either anywhere about. In their place were two other combatants, two strong sinewy forms, snarling, snapping, swaying back and forth like demons. It was a wolf and a powerful mastiff dog. Then another form shot out of the underbrush and another. The two men now saw the new danger and Shorty’s enemy begged to be freed. “N'ow if you'll beat it,” cried Shorty, “and not try any more o’ your funny work. I’ll excuse you this time. Now promise me.” “I’ll -promise you nothing,” snarled the lumberman, but let me up. ’ “Well, I guess if you kin stan’ it to be chewed, 1 can.” “Eff you’ll let me go, I’ll let you be,” cried the lumberman, finally submitting rather than to be “chewed up” as Shorty had termed it. But there w-as no time left for conversation for a lithe form darted toward them. Shorty sprang to his feet and struck the beast with one of his heavy boots, for his snow shoes had fallen off during the struggle. The boot caught the beast just below- the jaw and sent him snarling backw-ards. By this time the lumberman had gained his feet. Sho-ty elt a tap on his shoulder and made ready to spring again on his foe, but his intentions were interrupted by,—“You an’ me’ve had it out an’ you licked an’ 'we’ll call it square if you’re willin’. If we have to die let's die fighting side by side like men.” “That we’ll do, you bet,” cried Shorty, “but look out, here comes that beast back again.” As he uttered the latter words he grasped h 's until now forgotten revolver, drew it and fired almost into the mouth of the animal. A howl of pain followed and a dead wolf lay at the trapper’s feet. “Quick, cr the dcg’ll be giving out! Head right straight into that bunch,” he yelled, as he started tow-ard a group of snapping wolves with a powerful mastiff in their midst who had already laid out two of his enemies. But the dog w-as getting tired now and this the men saw. The faithful beast had saved their lives and now it was their turn to save his. The wohes scattered and seeing the bodies of their dead comrades began feasting.