Lowell High School - Red and White Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

Page 32 text:

he pressed on in his errand. Qne mile, two miles, three miles were soon passed. Almost the four miles of distance had been made, when he came to an obstacle which defied him to go further, and seemed in a fair way to stop him. It was a ford, rendered by the spring freshets quite impassable. He sought up and down stream without any success. Hut obstacles could not daunt him, they only stimulated his determination to cross, 'There shall be no A1ps,' he thought. f'Then he reached a place where the river narrowed, so that it was not more than forty-five feet wide, and where the opposite bank was lower than the one he was on. The thought Hashed, 'Could he leap that gap? He had often jumped further than this in tournaments at home. At any rate he would try. Thoughtfully he ascended the hill, and carefully surveyed the path for his descent. Slowly he started down, then faster and faster he sped on, until at the brink he was racing with the speed of a comet. He made the descent erect, but he crouched as he neared the river. Then just at the edge, he sprang to his full height. For an instant he seemed poised in mid-air. His eyes must have caught a glimpse of the rushing river beneath him, death must have seemed perilously near. l'Sut death to him didn't mean the passing of one soul, but the passing of one hun- dred and oneg for the hundred miners who, unconscious of their danger, were working in the little valley below, must go out if he did. So he couldn't lose his head, but 111-usf hold himself steady and land safely. He did. Losing no time over 'lamenting his misfortune in landing on a sharp piece of ice and severing one of his Fingers, he went on. Soon he reached the camp and gave the alarm. Quickly the miners abandoned everything for the safety of' higher ground. They had no time to lose. Up the canyon could be heard the roar of rushing waters, and the seething, angry mass soon foamed over the little valley. f'The miners looked down on the destruction of all their possessions. on a scene of desolation. But they were grateful to be alive. and they thought of their rescuer. They would give him all they had to give now. their heartfelt appreciation, but some day- Put where was he? Nowhere to be found. Silently he had gone away and none of them ever saw him afterwards to recognize him. I wish you could have heard the old man tell the tale. it was so simple and convincing. I was divided between regret that the hero had so effaced himself, and satisfaction that he had been really big enough to do it. I ventured to remark that there hadn't been others like him, but the old man answered indignantly: Oni the contrary, young man, there were many in 'Forty-nine'. Then, the fire burning low, he sug- gested that we turn in. The next morinng I took my leave, not without a curious pang. As he waved farewell to me I noticed, for the first time. that there was a finger missing on his right hand. I often wonder. l T.-XRRY S. .-XmN.xN'ri. Dec. 'l6. Thirty

Page 31 text:

Y KX? '15 I I hr linknnmn Bern HEN a man goes on he anticipates clear would insure them would be surprising both surprised and trip when a storm, in the wilds of lien a summer hunting trip in California, skies and starry nights. I.loyd's to him. Any other kind of weather and irritating. I know. And I was irritated last summer on. 1ny hunting complete in every detail, caught me docino County.. My surprise was not lessened, but my irritation very, decidedly was, when quite by chance- providentially, I sometimes think-I stumbled on a trail that led me to the lonely cabin of an old settler. Such a mean little shack it was, but trim and weather proof, and the man-well, he might have stepped out of a page of lilret Harte. XYith the simplicity of true hospitality he took me in and made me comfortable. He warmed, he fed and he entertained me. I listened like a three years' child to his stories of early California life. of thrilling events in which he had been present but never prominent. Let me give you the gist of one of them. f'It was one spring in the 'Forty-nine' days when plaeer mining on a large scale was carried on in the valleys of the foothills. Below us ran a swift river, the rocky banks of which rose almost perpendicularly to a great height. At one point the canyon widened into Z1 small valley about tive hundred yarclsgwide and twice as long. This was the location of about ninety placer mines. The winter just passed had been unusually severe and the snowfall very heavy: but now under the spring rains it was rapidly melting. The creeks had become rivers: the water had risen so high that it was near danger mark in our small valley. ' Five miles up the river was another mining camp. And that morn- ing the miners in this camp had narrowly escaped being buried alive by a terrible landslide. Loosened by the spring thaw, a whole mountain-side slid down into the narrow canyon. It formed a dam in the river and backed the water up several miles. The miners on near-by claims fled immediately. They realized the danger and clidn't tarry to see its results. Then some one thought of the camp down the river. They must know: a warning must be given themg the dam of loose dirt might give way at any moment, and all the property and life down the stream would be wiped out.. Some one called for volunteers to carry the warning. A Xorwegian, a recent comer, and as yet a stranger to the miners, was the only man to step forward. He had with him long skis, in the use of which all his countrymen are skilled. He took one careful look at the dam, noting its dangerous condition. then he sped swiftly away on his reckless race against death. Now up hills and down dales. through virgin forests. across treacherous ravines. T1L'er1Iy-nizze

Page 33 text:

Matty was M ' Mffr Uhr Milan with the Wrath LCJOD-SXVEATING HIPPOPOTAMUS, huh l said Matty Rourke, derisively, Rollo, the three-legged boy! Oh, Lord! Prince Carpathus and his Roaring Band of Genuine Cossacksl Ever see such a collection of fakes in your life P You and your fakes make me tired, snorted Roy Cashel. 1' . ,Q 'lYl9i? A 1 J g' Let's see you grow an extra leg, if yon're so smart. not, like every other boy in the group in front of the alluring and multi-colored posters that announced the advent in Coburn of The Great- est Show on Earth, a worshiper at the feet of the circus deities. Every Coburn boy, between the ages of six and sixteen, except Billie Shillock, who was home with the mumps, was on that particular block on Main street, on that particular Saturday morning. And each and every one of them stood there in gasping amazement and open-mouthed wonder. Even dignified Roy Cashel, captain of the Coburn Grammar School Nine, counted his pennies and calculated his capacity for pop-corn. Ilut Matty laughed. l-lis was a matter-of-fact, observing sort of mind. For some reason or other the blare of the brass band was not sweet music in his ears nor had the romance of the ring any appeal for him. He always saw the wires in the Punch and Judy show and the stilts under Jerry the Giant. Not that Matty had never found joy under the big tents. Once when he was quite a little boy, he had been fascinated by Zip, the Monkey-Man, who could not speak a word of any language. So after the crowd in the side- show had drifted away from Zip's platform, and the spieler had directed attention to other marvels, Matty lingered in the vicinity of the Missing Link. To his dismay and astonishment Zip, whose parents had probably immigrated from Africa to Alabama, opened his mouth and spake. Lord. this town is dry! he said. Since then Matty's faith in the gods of the arena had steadily waned. This scoffing at the circus and all that it stood for was the only bone of contention between hfatty and his chum, Roy Cashel. Roy resented M'atty's assumption of superior knowledge and besides, he thought it absurd that Matty should so vehemently attack what was so unquestionably accepted as the idols of boyhood. Their friendship had been strengthened by the enthusi- astic love of both for the national game. Roy had reached the proud position of captain of the grammar school nine, and was the only boy in town who had spoken to Christy Mathewson when the great pitcher had visited Coburn the preceding winter. Tn fact, he had actually caddied for Mathewson on the local golf links, and had procured a promise from the famous hurler to show the Coburn Cubs a few of the Hner points of the game if ever he visited that part of the state again. lt was mainly on account of this friendship with the great and the prestige that it immediately brought him that Roy had been elected captain of the team. Tllirfy-nm'