Milford High School - Oak Lily and Ivy Yearbook (Milford, MA)

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8 Oak, Lily and Ivy. In an hour Airah was dead. With the utmost coolness Hans left his mur¬ dered servant and boldly entered the immense temple. His entrance was her¬ alded by the sound of his footsteps on the marble floor. But if the waiting assailants heard his approach he, too, could hear theirs. There was a scurry of footsteps, shrill yells, and they were nearly upon him. A refuge ? Ah! the idol—he could stand between its arms. They would not dare kill him as he stood there for fear of the god’s anger. He acted more quickly thad he thought. With a bound he had gained the dais on which the god rest¬ ed. He had gained his refuge. But his besiegers did not seem anhoyed by this move, for they immediately squatted at his feet like so many hounds aurround- ing their quarry. A cold sweat broke out on Hans. Starvation faced him, even if he could stave off these human beasts of prey. After a while when he could take his gaze from the swarthy, staring faces before him, he turned to examine his refuge. It was a hideous, grinning devil with three eyes and each eye was a lustrous milk-white pearl, the beauty of which made Hans forget his very fears. A fortune lay within his grasp—and he lay within the reach of Death. Some of the priests had left, perhaps for their morning meal, and Hans be¬ gan to realize he was hungry. Then, as when one is in peril the most obscure things haunt the memory, he thought of the donkey. Poor beast! But perhaps it could break loose. Ah well, the animal was growing old, anyway. Suddenly an inspiration struck Hans. His talent! Might it not aid him? Standing up abruptly he gazed at the nearest priest. Simultaneously a voice sounded across the high vault, now further away, now nearer. The priests looked at him with fear. Perhaps he was a god incarnated. Always that voice was sounding in a strange gutteral tongue, now singing, now wailing— yet the lips of their white prisoner did not move. Trembling with fear they brought him food, but Hans saw that although his life was safe, he could not hope to escape for many days. For two years Hans dwelt among the fanatic priests, his very life depend¬ ing upon his ventriloquistic powers. Always when the worshippers came he was sent to the grove with two priests to guard him and so he concluded that the priests had not spoken of his presence. Hans had not been idle these two years. In the heels of the shabby old shoes kept always by his side reposed six pearls, a clear sparkling diamond, eight rubies, and three emeralds. He wanted the big emerald but he dared not take that; the priests would surely suspect him. So he had to content himself with the smaller stones. Once again he was making his semi-annual visit to the grove. But to-day he felt elated, for he felt intuitively Fortune would favor him. The cavalcade arrived late in the morning; they would begin their worship that evening, and for four days their rites would occupy them. He stretched himself out under a tree and soon was fast asleep. When he awoke, it was long after noon and he wondered why his guards had not come to summon him to their midday meal. He arose and looked about him. He

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Airah threw himself prone on the ground with his face towards the setting sun, and after a few minutes murmured, “I will go, my master.” That night two shadows glided from the camp leading behind them one of the white donkeys so common in the land. “I have shoes with me that have hollow heels-you see ? In them we might hide the jewels and no one would ever find them,” explained one of the shadows to the other. “My master is clever,” was the answer. Six days later at sundown they reached a small hill. “Beyond there,” said Airah, pointing to the hill, “lies a broad stretch of land and in its midst is the ‘White Temple’.” He spoke in an awed voice and his tone, as his voice broke the wonderful silence of the departing day, filled Hans with a vague fear and made him more reluctant to continue the undertaking than he would have cared to confess. But he shook off his misgivings. “How may one approach the place?” he asked. “There is a small grove near it, according to the tales, where one may hide until an opportune time for entering. But oh, my master, that time will never come, I fear. Let us go back.” Hans cursed roundly. “Go, if you choose. Do you think I have come so far for naught ?” Trembling, Airah spoke. “Then, if you will go on, let us await the dark¬ ness. Then we may creep to the grove-but the gods help us if we mount this hill, and a flat plain meets our gaze.” They picketed the donkey securely. Hans hid the precious shoes in his coat and thus they awaited the approach of night. Fate was against them. The moon rose clear and bright and a light almost as penetrating as that of the day illumined the whole place. They waited as long as they dared, and then cautiously began the ascent of the hill. The height gained, they were able to see what lay before them. It was as Airah had said : a great stretch of land with no trees except a small grove that was near a huge white spot. As their eyes grew accustomed to the sight they distinguished the sharp outlines of an immense temple. It was all that Airah had heard. No sound disturbed the silence of the night and gaining confidence they worked their way towards the temple. They were about twenty yards from the main entrance when Airah with a half-suppressed pioan turned to Hans. “The gods have punished me lor my greed. Death is upon me. Fly, while there is time,” and pointed to a dart about two inches in length that quivered in his throat. Hans recognized the fateful thing, a poison-tipped arrow, almost minute, yet meaning certain death. There was still no sound—no noise to tell whence the dart had come. Unmolested, Hans supported Airah in his arms and undisturbed they await¬ ed the approach of death. Hans vaguely wondered why he were not killed, but about him there was nothing but silence.

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Oak Lily and Ivy. 9 saw their bodies side by side in a thicket; he could only surmise that they had partaken of some po isonous plant and died immediately. Here was deliverance! Darkness was approaching and he had four days to escape, for he felt sure he could reach the hill and gain the world beyond without detection. At dark he started. The night was cloudy but he managed to keep his way and in an hour or so he had once more attained the height where poor Air- ah had met his fate so long before. But he had paid dearly for it. Two years wasted! Two years utterly losfiand he had aged twenty years in that time. He stumbled on through the darkness always with that thought goading him. And Gretchen—would she have been faithful ? Surely God would not have let her be otherwise. He was raving thus when the group of white men found him. He had travelled miles in those three days and without food; but the party, when they heard his story, hastened to put a greater distance between themselves and the “ White Temple.” Hans had not told them of the jewels and they humored him in what they termed a sick man’s fancy in allowing him to keep the shoes, rotting to pieces, always with him. And he still had the shoes eight weeks later when he sailed for home and happiness. For Gretchen had been true to his memory. N---T6. 20—17, “They talk of joy in fighting Mid whistling shot and shell They rime of bliss in love’s sweet kiss A bliss which none can tell. For ages they’ve been lilting The praise of ruby wine,— All joys most rare but none compare with tacklin’ ’hind the line.” Lazy” FitzHugh sauntered toward the rear of the cottage, tossing a rather dilapidated head-guard on the porch as he passed. His ponderous voice chanted the well-known football war song in rythmic beat to the tap of his leather cleats on the board walk. His voice bore the hearty ringing cadence of well-fed, well- exercised and carefree youth,-unfatigued by the harrowing preliminary practice of the gridiron. Give me the football battle, The captain’s signal call. The rush that fills the heart with thrills The line that’s like a wall. Give me- the hard-fought scrimmage—” i