Elmwood School - Samara Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

Page 33 text:

SAMARA 31 sank to his knees. It was in vain that he tried to rise, and he fell forward into the soft snow. The following spring a fellow trapper, passing by McDonald ' s cabin, decided to stop in and see him. Receiving no answer to his knock and concluding that the old man had already left to sell his furs, the half-breed started around by the other side of the cabin, but he froze in his tracks. There before him, he saw the figure of a man lying prostrate on the ground. It was old McDonald. The trapper, anxious to search the cabin for possible loot, went over to the door. On finding it locked, he investigated the pockets of the dead man, and extracted from one of them, from a corner where it had been missed by panicky fingers— the key of the cabin! Rhonna Curtis, VB Fry Highly Commended in Story Competition I REMEMBER shc was never considered by us as one of the gang but just as a plain and uninteresting girl who always seemed to keep to herself, although when I think of it now, not through much fault of her own, but more because of our sort of snobbishness. Her freckled face with its expressionless blue eyes, turned-up nose and small tight mouth, was framed by straight brown hair, and wore a rather wistful look as if she wanted to belong but was too shy. Whenever one of us decided to make fun of somebody, she always turned out to be the victim. Maybe it was because we were never afraid of a rebuke from her. It seemed to give us a triumphant and powerful sensation to be able to say anything at her expense and have no fighting back. I can remember my thirteenth birthday when my mother had a party for me. My joy was rather dampened for a moment when I learned that she was being invited, but it didn ' t bother me as long as all the gang could come. During the party, my mother, having dis- covered she was missing, sent me off , much to my disgust, to look for her. I found her kneeling by the radio listening to a piano recital of some kind. I ' ll never forget the change that had come over her; her eyes were a bright blue and her face was flushed— it was the first time I had ever seen her really happy. Soon she was taking piano lessons and it became a great source of amusement at school to say scornfully, She ' s at her music lesson, or else, She can ' t come because she ' s practising She never seemed to mind and soon her indifference began to take the joy out of teasing. Finally she was left alone and it was very seldom we were bothered with her at all. In fact, the only time we ever saw her was in class, where she was by no means an outstanding pupil, but sat in her seat in the front row as quiet as a mouse, and at three- thirty she would rush off to her music lessons. The next thing we heard, she was playing in a small recital being held by her music teacher. As can well be imagined, it certainly caused no great stir among us and it was with much reluctance that I was finally persuaded into attending that recital by my persistent mother who thought it would be nice for her to have a class-mate in the audience. My first thought on realizing there was no way out of it, was to get some of my friends to join me in my misery. After a great deal of argument and bribing with candy, they were forced, much against their wills, to accom- pany me.

Page 32 text:

30 SAMARA Prize-Winning Story in Story Competition McDonald rose heavily from his chair before the old stove and limped across the room to the diminishing pile of wood. Then, laden with two heavy logs, he returned to his position in the chair and, pushing the logs into the fire, leaned back with a sigh of contentment. McDonald was contented. He was, al- though isolated from all civilization, happy to spend his old age in this northern outpost, trapping during the winter and, in the sum- mer, selling his furs. He had been secretly glad when, upon awaking that morning, he had found that he could not go to his traps because of the blizzard that raged outside— the blizzard that blocked the very passage from his door to the wood-shed not thirty feet away. But now he looked at the few meagre logs remaining in the corner of his shack. He remained a few minutes more by the stove, but suddenly realizing that he was falling asleep, he pushed himself up from the chair and hobbled over to his coat. It was only by the exercise of a great deal of determina- tion, and also by reminding himself of the fact that he would freeze if his fire went out, that McDonald decided to brave the storm to fetch the badly-needed logs for the fire. With a last longing look into the room, he thrust open the door, only to be met with a steel- cold blast from the north. And it was with great difficulty that he was able to pull it closed behind him— to preserve what heat there was left in the cabin. Once out in the fury of the storm, he attempted to walk in the direction of the shed, but was beaten back against the door. He was preparing to fight his way through the storm when the awful truth dawned on him. He had left the key to the door inside the cabin! His heart beat faster now, and his breath- ing became more difficult. With trembling hands he tried the handle— and in vain. He threw his weight against the door. Again and again he tried, but to no avail. It had been built to withstand the terrific strain of the wind and could be opened by no mean force. Slowly he made his way around to the side of the cabin, the side where the window was. It was high and small but McDonald in his torment thought of it as a possible entrance to the hut. But upon reaching it he found that he could only touch the bottom of the indentation by jumping. After several frenzied jumps and clawings to reach the window, he fumbled his way around to the door again. His one hope now lay in getting to the shed and lighting a fire there. The snow was deep and the wind swept it with such furious gusts that the shed was now completely hidden. Slowly he worked his way through the drifts in its direction, but the snow made passage almost impossible. He tried to keep walking into the wind as the shed was in that direction, but it seemed to him that the course of the wind kept changing and as a result he now found himself com- pletely lost. Now as his steps faltered, the piercing cold penetrated his clothing. He knew he must keep moving, for to stop would mean certain death. Driving himself onward, he fought desperately to overcome the exhaustion that threatened to draw him into a sleep. Groping through the drifts he finally stumbled and

Page 34 text:

32 SAMARA We arrived early and squirmed noisily in our seats, determined to make ourselves as obnoxious as possible. This amused us for a while but the novelty of it soon wore off. Then the curtain rose, and we decided to quiet down, not as much from politeness as from exhaustion. We sat through ten or fifteen minutes, during which we were fascinated by one pupil who got stage-fright and ran off the stage. Finally, our class-mate appeared and stumbled awkwardly as she sat down on the bench. I remember looking down the row of class-mates, getting ready to gloat over her mistakes. One made the remark about how short her dress was and a few of us giggled. As if she heard us, she pulled it self-con- sciously over her knees. She poised her hands over the keys, looked at them for a moment, then started to play. Her mastery was com- pl ete. We forgot the short dress and plain face. Instead of stumbling through her piece as we had expected she would, this girl brought forth beautiful music from the piano. I looked down the row of my friends to meet their shame-faced glances. We were humbled to realize that the girl we had treated with such scorn and ridicule had a gift that one day the world would envy. W. QuAiN, VI Matric. Keller Highly Commended KcUluf OK IT WAS a damp dreary day in the year 1635, early in December, when Kathy first saw the light of day. She was born in a large house in London built in the Renaissance style, which at that time was a very fashionable style as it had just been introduced. It was in this house that Kathy or Katharine Constance Stirling, spent the first ten years of her life. Whether the fact that the astrologers had said that the particular day on which she was born was unlucky, had anything to do with her later life, only time can tell. She was a delicate baby and during her first few months in the world it was a continual struggle to save her life. When only a few weeks old a plague in the neighbourhood somehow crept into the household. For days the tiny infant lay feverish in her crib while her delicate mother seldom left her side. After several weeks the fever left Kathy as quickly as it had come, but her patient mother who had cared for her had evidently been too close to her baby and the dread disease caught her into its deadly clutches. As Lady Stirling lay dying, Kathy ' s father did all he could for his pretty wife. Doctor Paget was summoned to her bed every time she Story Competition Ute, Kin uttered a sound. But, though Doctor Paget had studied and knew a great deal more about the body than most other doctors of the time, his knowledge was scanty and filled in with superstitions. He consulted the position of the stars and many of his so-called cures were more harmful than the disease itself. Slowly she faded away and one night, after blessing her baby she passed away. So Kathy was left motherless at the age of three months. On account of this early illness she was always a very delicate child. Because of this she was definitely spoiled by all members of the household. As Katharine grew older she was a constant companion to her father. This was an unusual thing. Sir John had inherited his father ' s title and since the death of his wife had taken quite an interest in writing. He missed the companionship of his wife and spent much time with his only child. It was in his study that Kathy got what little education she had. Sir John, being a man of letters, wished his daughter to know how to read and spell, though few ladies of the time knew how. One of the first people who came into her life was her nurse, Greta. She was a rather plump redfaced woman whom Kathy could