Hanover High School - Hanoverian Yearbook (Hanover, MA)

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26 THE HANOVERIAN Carried around the bend like a shot, we were borne swiftly towards a huge cave and entered its mouth at a terrific rate of speed. In a few moments we were plunged into deepest darkness. We sped into a vast hallway, the distant heights of which dripped unceasingly. We were soon drenched to the skin and our canoe covered with a fine beady moisture. Every moment the air became hotter. In the distance we could hear a humming sound, which burst into a loud roar right over our heads, as we were borne into a narrower passageway. 'That is the forest fire.' said John. For half an hour or so we kept on our course hearing moan- ings and rumblings all around us. Ahead we could see a faint red glow, and hear the rush of falling water. That glow became a lurid bar, slanting across our path. We shot over a little fall and found ourselves precipitated towards-Oh God! shall I ever forget that sight I-Hell's own river, dreadful river of fire, sucking and smacking its horrible lips to receive us. Not one hundred yards ahead the cool waters struck the fire in a cloud of steam. Inhaling the gases was be- coming every moment more piercingly painful. Suddenly I fainted. When I came to, I found myself sliding down a radiant, lurid river. Black scum gathered around the prow of our boat. Far ahead, I could see the rounding billow of a giant cat- aract, plunging down with a hollow roar into the heart of the second crater of V mountain. For you see, we had entered the side of the big mountaing the unusual season and dreadful forest fire had awakened the old sleeping dragon, whose warning growls we began to hear as we were leaving the vast hall-ways. We had rushed headlong into the stream of lava, racing down its former course from the first to the second crater. In a few seconds, we would be hurled over the cataract to death. The canoe was gaining speed. I called to John, but he was lying back, his eyes closed in death. A few feet more and- 'We are going over the cataract! We living, are cast into the fiery pit! Oh God-!' A confused mummur arose around meg soft cool water was at my lips. I opened my eyes and saw before me, the old school building, blazing with fire. 'Where is John?' I whispered, but I already knew the answer. I have finished my story.

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THE HANOVERIAN 25 Immediately we embarked and Peter began his tale as he paddled us swiftly down-stream. John and I had gone camping to this very place, which I remember distinctly as the starting off place of my dream. For three days, we had been having a fine time. Horror came with the fourth. Early in the morning I called J ohn's attention to the smoke of a distant forest fire. 'It is so dry,' I said, 'We would be safer along the edge of the lake. If the wind should rise-' but he scoffed at me. 'You're a fool to want to go back now,, he said. 'That fire is miles away. And, besides, this stream probably enters a lake or a swamp down below? I gave in, but had no wish to go on our planned hunting trip. I felt strangely uneasy, wanted to stay by the water, and wished all the time that we were safe at home. Night settled down, dark and humid and still. Heat lightning flashed in the distance, the glow of forest fires was all around us. The time, as you must remember, was in the early part of Sep-- tember, during a drought, the length and severity of which this country had never known before. After hours of wakefulness, I fell into a troubled sleep, lulled by a. gently rising breeze. I was awakened late in the morning by aloud cry. John was sitting up. He pointed a trem- bling finger towards the west. I stared, then began to shudder from head to foot. Our whole world was ablaze. The little cool- ing breeze had become a hot, fierce gale and was urging the big forest fire to our destruction. We were cut off from the lake, and our doom was sealed. 'Quickl' cried practical John. 'There is no time to lose. Get into the canoe. If the stream leads to a lake, we shall be saved.' I managed to rise and seat myself in the canoe, then I fell insensible. When I came to, we were already in a much wider stream, and going along swiftly without the aid of paddles. Before telling you anything more, I want to say our canoe was made of asbestos and was very similar to this one. To continue with my story, the stream had become quite broad and was taking a decided down-hill slant. We were ap- proaching a sharp bend in the river, which hid from sight every- thing beyond it. CLet us get out of the canoe, professor, before the current becomes too strong.J

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THE HANOVERIAN 27 BOOKMARKS It was early spring in Hempstead. The business of the small down-town bookstore was dull, accounts were due, and Bookey Sam was having a hard time trying to raise sufficient funds to keep his business out of the hands of a receiver and bankruptcy. Sam was the slim and tortoise shell glasses type of a man with little ambition and a firm belief that a man running a book- store does not have to exert himself to keep his customers. In his opinion, they should just come to him if they wished to pur- chase books. An absent minded old gentleman came to the store early one morning. Sam looked at him and decided that perhaps he might be able to please him. What can I do for you this morning, sir ? he asked. Well, I should like to purchase something for my daughter, who has just left for college. Perhaps you have something that would interest her ? Do you think that she would be interested in travels or a good biography? Those two shelves are full of books on travel- right in that corner. Perhaps you might find something there that you would like. So saying, Sam again sat at his desk and busied himself with his accounts. After poking around for an hour or so and deranging nearly half of the two shelves of books, the old gentleman came to Sam's desk. I think that possibly a pair of beads, a trinket, or a ring of some sort would do better anyway. said he. I am so sorry for the trouble I have caused you. I may be back later. Then he hurriedly left the bookstore. An hour passed, uneventfully as usual. Sam was besieged with a bit of the blues. A young man came into the store bursting with excitement. Has an old man with white hair and a grey coat been in to look at some books ? Why yes, answered Sam. I guess he couldn't find any- thing to please him. Would you please show me the books he was looking at? Sam was amazed. No one had ever shown such interest in his books before. Surely, he was looking at those books on the second and third shelves in that corner, right over there.