Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

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need was urgent, and Lipton, used as he was to Iho ways of traders, was neverthe- less inclined to believe the Hayes City trader when he said the half breeds were almost as good as any dog. For two perfect days Lipton travelled, s’ccping, eating, and even exercising in his sledge. When the third day dawned e’ear and cold and Lipton was congratu- lating himself on having the same weath- er throughout the trip, he noticed a strange uneasiness among his dogs. Karak was trying her best to quiet them, nipping here and snapping there, but she only suc- ceeded in exciting them the more. Lipton soon got out to quiet them, just taking a short walk with them to exercise bis stiff- ened limbs. Suddenly the leader jerked away from him and started on a swift trot. Before Lipton had time to grab the reins the others started and in a second they were going so fast that no man cou’d pos- sibly overtake them. At first Lipton tried but soon gave up the attempt and regain- ed Ihe trail, intending to walk to Lincoln Station, the nearest settlement, which was a good half day’s journey in the sledge. When he started everything was perfectly still except for the crunchi ng of his feet on the crusty snow. A wolf bayed in the d stance, then another and another. Then Lipton heard his dogs answer the call. He couM even distinguish Karak ’s deep growling tones. Tie decided it was the wolves which had excited them and thank- ed his stars he was carrying a loaded pis- tol. But a twenty-four hour’s journey over icy ground without food and with uncer- tain weather for the night is without doubt a bad prospect. By nightfall he was weary and hungry, and if he stopped for even a minute the cold penetrated his jacket. Northern lights were flickering across the sky, there was no moon — no stars. Lipton noticed all these things me- chanically. He was beginning to walk mechanically. Once he slipped, twisted his anide and limped painfully on. When- ever he thought of anything he said to himself he was glad the moon would not rise till just before the’ Northern lighls faded, and it would not set till dawn had come. Be had assured himself of that be- fore he started on this trip against which all his friends had advised him. Two hours more he tramped. Suddenly he realized it was growing dark. Looking about him he saw the moon had set and there was no streak of dawn in the East. Then he remembered he had expected to get to Lincoln Station by noon or in the evening at the latest. Still he walked on another hour, off the trail and probably in a circle. Still no sign of dawn. All at once he felt a damp, cold splash on his face and realized it was beginning to snow. Once more he slipped, falling this time with his leg doubled sickeningly un- ed him. The man tried to rise but coidcT not, and was forced to drag himself along as best he could, he did not know where. Soon his mind began to wander ; occasion- ally he would lose utter control of him- self and shriek for help from the echoless, frozen wastes. Then he would be silent again, creeping along in the snow. He thought to himself he would die there and no one would know or care. The oily trader would laugh — spread out bis oily hands. Thorough-bred dogs! “Karak, good Karak!” He imagined the dog had come and Avas licking his benumbed cheeks. The imagination seemed to warm him as he gave up all attempt of moving and lay where he was with the snow si- lent, deathlike, enshrouding him. Start- led he suddenly realized Karak was next to him, bloody, with the reins of the sledge bitten through and flapping about him. She put her strong teeth in Lipton ’s belt and dragged as fast as she could 10

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were now more concerned about joviality and fun than about their prisoner. The. tall stranger slipped noiselessly behind the Count and with a small sharp knife cut the bonds quickly. “Make haste, mon ami,” whispered the rescuer, “make haste lest you be too late.” Where had the Count heard similiar words? He tried to remember but only for a moment, while he and his friend hid behind a pile of rubbish in a deserted cel- lar. Late that night they crept out into the darkness, and, as Beaufois was thank- ing the friend, he was suddenly grasped by the arm. He whirled about to face the former Marquis of Roux. “Count Beaufois, ” he thundered, “You are given by the authorities just forty- eight hours to get out of France, compren- nez-vous ? ’ ’ “Jc comprens, ” replied the Count, and, turning silently away in the darkness, he left the two men behind. He could find no trace of his wife and children that night, and the next afternoon he took a trading ship at Havre which was to set sail for New England that night. The exile never knew what became of his farm ily, and he ended his wretched and miser- able life in Bradford, Massachusetts, two short years later. HORTENSE JEWETT, 1922. KARAK. In the Alaskan International Trading Camp in tfayes City, Alaska, a stormy scene was being enacted between a native Eskimo trader and a young man named Lipton, dressed apparently for a long trip on a sledge. “But, man,” said the traveller rather exasperatedly, “Haven’t you anything thing better than this?” “Nothin’,” said the oily trader, spreading his equally oily hands before him in an expressive gesture. “But these are mixed blood. Not one real Eskimo dog in the establishment?” The oily trader would probably have made the same gesture had not an entire- ly white dog of the proper breed entered at that moment. “Ah-h,” said Lipton turning towards him, “How much will you sell this for?” “Karak? Nine hundred — cheap.” Lipton examined the dog’s points and pronounced her a thoroughbred Eskimo sledge dog. “Faithful,” interposed the laconic trad- er., “Faithful? To you? She won’t try to go back to you, will she?” As Karak approached the trader she turned up her lip and snarled, and, sud- denly turning, rubbed against Lipton ’s leg. It was evident she had no love for the native. Lipton took Karak outdoors, tied her with the three half breeds and drove her around a little. She was perfect when it came to teannvork and kept her compan- ions carefully in order when they need- ed it. When Lipton gave her one or two words of admiration, Karak wagged her tail to show she was friendly and jumped lightly on her hind legs leaning against the man. Lipton staggered back, amazed to see that the dog was half a head taller than he. Karak was soon bought from the trader and hitched to the team. Lipton would never have trusted himself to go safely across the frozen waste on the journey which he was undertaking with- out at least one real Eskimo dog, and even with Karak he was dubious. But the 9

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through the everdeepening snow towards Lincoln Station. She knew the way well having made the trip often, and depended, not on any man-made trail, but on her own keen, quivering nostrils. Early the next morning at Lincoln Sta- tion an astonished set of men saw a limp- ing bloody dog drawing a stronglimbed, unconscious man in her teeth, tired and shivering from head to foot. Some of them easily recognized Karak, and Lip-ton, when he recovered, was able to tell the story of his rescue so that another story of a dumb beast’s heroism was added to the list of those already known. JULIA F. DOUGHTY, 1922. MY ENGLISH LESSON ’Twas almost nine o’clock one morning bright ; Most easily might the teacher have dis- cerned With what reluctant minds we to our English turned, How slowly Brown his Math, put out of sight. The room was hushed in peaceful silence rare, When in her sudden ivay the teacher said, “Tomorrow’s lesson,” here rose every head, “Tomorrow’s lesson is to write a poem.” While walking home from school that af- ternoon, 1 lost myself in earnest thought of what My poem should be about, but naught. No hope nor plan could I divine so soon. But taking pen and ink that night, I labored earnestly, although my hopes were dead, And so I wrote this poem which you have read, And that was all that I could write. NATHAN SUSHELSKY, 1921. SUPREME SACRIFICE At the edge of a small wood near the French village of Hugemont, lived a little boy of nine years named Bossuet. He was small for his age, with a dark complexion and dark eyes and he was a cripple. He lived alone at the time in his little cottage. A neighbor came in each day to do his work and prepare his simple meals. In normal times he lived with his father in the cottage but now his father had gone at the call of Napoleon against the Eng- lish to the battle ground of Waterloo. During one of the fiercest battles the soldiers had ever seen, on the day the Eng- lish bombarded the French from the Church, and were answered by tempests of flame, on the day on which the English had effected the worst massacres of the fight, little Bossuet sat on the steps in front of his house and wondered. Where was his father now? Was he fighting des- perately or was he lying dead or dying in some obscure spot? Bossuet was a pas- sionate child. The more he pondered, and thought about his father the more he wanted to see him. Something seemed calling, calling him to his father. Oil the battle field all was quiet except for a shot that rang out now and then either from the gun of the guard or of a 11