Los Gatos High School - Wildcat Yearbook (Los Gatos, CA)

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little cliff on which I stood mirrored below without a Hawg and the nearer trees, their roots submerged, were reflected so perfectly that they seemed al- most to have grown double. An awful silence born of the muffling vapors pervaded it all. No birds sang. No flowers bloomed. No insects fluttered by. The very air was life- less. It was solemn and deathlike, yet there was life on every side. I began to descend and clambered over the rough boulders. They were dull brown and purple, streaked with maroon. Thick black-green mosses, that were damp and soggy to my touch, grew over them. Little streams of water trickled noiselessly beneath. As I neared the river the land grew black and boggy. I tramped knee deep in beds of ferns. Once I stepped on a log but it crumbled beneath my weight and sank into the mire. The river seemed to have no current and in the middle of it great crea- tures lay motionless or swam without noise. They heeded me not nor each other, but lay there like huge logs, the dull light glinting on their scales. But the stillness, the emptiness of it, and the oppressiveness, were awful. The silence seemed as long as eternity itself, almost, then- Somewhere a tree fell. It crashed thru its fellows and lay submerged at their feet, somewhere. Its falling startled me and went reverberating thru the dark bayous. The monsters lifted their heads, listened a moment, then sank back into the ooze, and the hush fell back on the vast swamp. Something within me-or was it a spirit-whispered to me, Three million years ago coal was formed in forests such as this - Then the vision dissolved and faded away into oblivion and I found my- self in the room once more. It was Hooded with mellow lamplight and the family sat around the table reading. The heavy book had fallen from my lap and lay on the floor. The rain had ceased and the wind crooned a soft lullaby thru the spruce trees. Dazed, I picked up the fallen book and words shot thru my mind again, Three million years ago- they were the words I had read last in the book and above them was a beautiful plate showing the trees of the later carboniferous period. HELEN SHIRAS. 81

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IT III: I I 1 I I I I . I fi I I r , J. ,- m ' ' I Deathlike, Yet Alive It was dusk and the lamps were not yet lighted. All the room was filled with a dreamy dimness. I shut the ponderous volume I had been read- ing and looked out of the window. It was storming furiously outside and the rain pelted the glass like a host of tiny arrows. The spruce trees, silhouetted against the sky. swayed and tossed in time to the chanting of the wind. They bent, stood still, then flung themselves back till their fibers strained, throwing their limbs upward. Then swayed slowly, all in perfect rhythm, while the wind shrieked and wailed an accompaniment. It was like a witch dance, wild and weird. What magic were these dancers brewing? VVhat kind of a spell were they casting over me? I wondered and watched as they lifted and swung their branches while the keen rain shot thru them and hurled itself against the window. Faster and faster it fell till the glass was dimmed and I could see only the blurred shadows of the trees. JF Pk :If 31 lk Fl: flf PIC rk S4 PI: P21 PK HF Then all grew dark and still-deathly still-so dark and still that time seemed not. Then a gray light appeared, and a forest arose from the vague darkness. It was a strange forest. The trees stood close together, their frong-like branches hanging motionless and heavy as if to bear the weight of the oppres- sive vapors that steamed upwards. There was no sun, but only a dull grey light that cast no shadow. Off in the misty distance I saw the trees rise gray- green. The nearer ones were greener and darker while those in the fore- ground were quite distinct with dark shadows and soft high-lights. They were like palm trees-yet I had never seen palm trees like them, Below me lay a river-a wide river-deep, and still, and black, that seemed to have no banks but lost itself in the fathomless shadows. I saw the 26

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Better l..ate Than Never' The drowsy afternoon wore on while all Brentville took its afternoon siesta. As it neared three o'clock however, things began to assume a more lively aspect. Children appeared as if by magic to enjoy their afternoon games. Women hurried forth to do their shopping, and a group of elderly men gathered in front of the General Store to discuss religion, the present war and all the latest exciting events of the village. At promptly half past three Colonel jonathan Saunders strode hastily around the corner of the main street and entered the Post Office. He soon reappeared and halted by the General Store to take his part in the discussion then going on. Well'C0lonel, what do you think of our chances for peace ? Pretty slim, pretty slim, Jacob, came the answer and so the talk went on. At four o'clock the Colonel pulled out his watch and seeing it was grow- ing late, turned homeward, Exactly fifteen minutes after he had disappeared, the figure of Miss Sophie Johnson came briskly down the same street. The men in front of the store glanced at each other in amusement. One of them explained the situ- ation to a new comer as follows: You see its this way. Ten years ago Jonathan Saunders came into town. He was about forty-five and the finest specimen of manhood I have ever seen. He courted Miss Sophie and finally won her consent. But right soon after she had said 'Yes' to him, they quarreled and have not spoken to each other since. No one knows the cause of it and neither of them ever speak of it. He takes off his hat to her if they happen to meet and she nods kind of frosty like and that's all. Every day he comes up town and plans to be home by four because that's when she always comes. They both live on the same street, almost op- posite and each has a dog. She has a mean tempered Spitz, called Duke, and he a big 'hunting dog named Wolf. On the morning following this conversation the Colonel accidently knocked his ancient time piece onto the floor. Nothing's smashed but it sounds kind of queer. All unknown to him the delicate spring was bent and the watch started to lose time. He had never bothered to keep any other clocks in running order and therefore had no means of knowing the correct time. Thru the day it managed to lose just an hour and fifteen minutes and so when the Colonel started up town, supposedly at three, it was quarter past four. Looks kind of dark for three o'clock, but maybe its going to rain, he remarked to the dog. The old timers saw him coming and glancing at their watches said Four fifteen ! and gasped in blank astonishment. Absorbed in his newspaper the Colonel walked into the Post Office and while in there he heard a low growl. He turned to look sharply, Miss Sophie and her dog were passing and Duke had nipped viciously at W'olf, who promptly resented this indignity. Before interference was possible a lively light was well started. The dogs rolled into the street, a biting, snarling mass. Small boys cheered them on. the Colonel vainly tried to separate them and Miss Sophie danced around in excitement. Those two dogs hung on with a remarkable pertinacity and refused to be separated. Duke's white curls were Hicked with blood and being the smaller dog he got much the worst of it. At 28