Mission High School - Mission Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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MEI! THE MISSION MEDITATION Have you ever stood high on a cliff With naught behind and naught before, And heard from far below you rise The sullen breaker's roar, VVith not a light, and not a star, Where'er the eye did glance, With all a great, vast, blackness, An endless, vast expanse, With all a mighty silence, Unbroken, undisturbed, Except when the far off breakers, From the ocean's bosom surged? And standing in such solitude, Do not one's feelings prod, Do not one's thoughts seem nobler, Does not one think of God? MORRIS STOLOVVITZ. SONN ET Yea, I must make my life both full and deep! No shallow surface-living e'er could feed, Or quench, this gnawing, ever-present need, Or lull my soul in a deceitful sleep. My spirit must be open to the sweep Of all the winds, and bow unto the creed Of lofty mountain-peak and lowly reed- Learn with the sun to smile, with rain to weep. The sea must beat upon my foolish pride, And wash away the scales from off my sight, My heart must by the blazing noon be tried And walk alone throughout the starless night. If I am never wholly purified, At least I shall have lived with all my might. lilzhi MAITHER. I 10 :I 116k-'1

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ILTTE R

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lVlISSION HIGH SCHOOL M160 'mx-0 THE NECKLACE OF THE CABALLERO Tecal, chief of the Modocs, strode by the little adobe building which white men would know in future years as the Mission Dolores. As he passed the little church the sound of chanting voices came to his ears. The savage smiled as he made for the creek a quarter of a mile to the east. Tecal loved the clear sky and the song of the birds. The prospect of having them all to himself had appealed to his sense of humor. Therefore when the padres requested all the men in the tribe to come, Tecal had re- fused to go himself, but had ordered all his followers to attend. Having disposed of them thus, he prepared to go fishing. That occupation was worthy of a Modoc chief. Tecal passed down beyond the grove of trees which the padres had planted, down through the grasses beyond, and finally reached the sloping bank of the little stream. He now followed the watercourse southward. At last he came to a deep pool Where he knew the fish would be plentiful. He could see them swimming quietly about under the rocks that edged the pool. Tecal approached warily. He was of no mind to cast a shadow on the sunlit water, and frighten the timid creatures within its depths. What a blunderer that white stranger from the place these foreigners called the Presidio had been. The watchful Tecal had seen him fishing here the day before, and heard him come noisily up the bank, singing. The frightened fish had darted for concealment, and it was an empty-handed fisherman that left the creek. Later on the Indian had overheard the soldier tell one of the padres that there were no fish in the creek. Fray Antonio had listened politely, but a sideward glance at Tecal conveyed an amused twinkle, which found an answering glint in the eyes of the native. Tecal had more important business on hand now than wondering at the antics of the foolish white man. The savage fishermanls methods were primitive, but he soon had a large catch. Two hours passed. Time mattered but little to Tecal, and and hours meant nothing. V The Sun was the Modoc chief's clock. It stood at its highest point when the Indian abandoned his labors. The rays from it shone down upon his tattooed skin, as, well supplied with food for himself and his squaws, he swung southward toward the peculiar moundlike structure that was his home. A gleam of something red amid the tall reeds on the other side of the creek caught his eye. Strange! There were no birds singing amid the reeds near that gleaming object, and the reeds themselves were crushed and broken, as if a terrible struggle had taken place among them. Something was wrong! Tecal crossed the stream, careless now of the scurrying trout, and crept cautiously toward the object. The horrib'e sight which met his eye caused no change of expression upon his face. But for him the beauty of the day had departed, and the song of the birds was hushed. He stood, a proud and lonesome figure, sorrowing and heart-hungry. Before him lay all that remained of the corpse of a Modoc hunter. The skull was crushed, the features horribly marred and gnawed away, the body mangled and dripping blood, but the red- stained chest bore marks which identified the body as that of the chief's own brother. All about were huge prints in the surface of the earth, relics of the doer of this deed. Tecal knelt and examined these marks. Then he murmured the name of the creature which had slain his brother, the native word that meant The Killer. One glance llll