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

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THIA: MISSION emu 0619 at what had been his brother, and the Indian swung off to the Mission. Tecal was no coward, but he knew that he and the other hunters of the tribe were helpless against 'fThe Killer. The visits of the creature were periodical. The tribe had suffered seven deaths when he had last appeared. That had been before the coming of the white men. Per- haps, now that the good padres were here, they could help his people get rid of this menace. Entering the lklission grounds the Modoc chief came face to face with Fray An- tonio. The latter essayed a friendly greeting, but the Indian ignored it, and made a gesture for the padre to follow him. Knowing the Indian to be friendly, and realiz- ing that something serious was afoot, the padre did as Tecal desired. The red man led the way back to his brother's corpse. Fray Antonio was a man of wide experience, who had in his younger days been both a soldier and a hunter. The mangled mass of humanity which Tecal showed him was sufficient explanation. He nodded his understanding to the Indian and the two returned to the Mission. Five minutes later a rider left the Mission grounds and galloped up the slopes to the north. Following a well-marked trail, he soon came in sight of the blue water of the Golden Gate, and beheld, a little way to the northwest, the military post which upheld Spanish dominion in this far-off western land. He made for the place, and soon delivered his message to the Commandante of the Presidio. The message was a request from the padres for some soldiers to protect the settle- ment against the incursions of The Killer. The Commandante nodded and im- mediately sent for Lieutenant Rodriguez. II Eight cavalrymen, headed by Lieutenant Rodriguez, rode swiftly out of the Pre- sidio, and over the trail to the Mission. The young commander, his face alight with pleasure in the prospect of some excitement, pressed eagerly forward, and it was not long before he halted his men in front of the little adobe building. Tecal was there, waiting with Fray Antonio. His keen glance flashed over the men, then came to rest on the leader. Recognizing the bungling fisherman of the day before, the disappointed Modoc turned to the padre and voiced his disapproval of the appointment of this man for the duty of coping with The Killer. After a moment's discussion the priest advanced to the young officer and asked him to prove his marksmanship to the chief, to which request the lieutenant readily assented. Fray Antonio led the way to an open space of ground, and Rodriguez, supplied with a musket, followed him. The officer was no fisherman, but he was the best shot in the Presidio. The Modoc chief, an interested observer, soon received utter and convincing proof of the white man's skill with the fire-stick. Satisfied on this score, Tecal, through the padres, made Rodriguez understand the scheme he proposed, namely to hunt The Killer down in his lair. The Indian should track the monster down, and Rodriguez shoot it when the red man had located it for him. As for the Lieutenant's detail, it should be left to protect the Mission. E121

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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

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MISSION HIGH Scnooi, emu 'lm Tecal did not propose to attempt dealing with The Killer while hampered with a group of senseless white men who made more noise than all his squaws together. One white man was enough to keep him busy, and upon that one, by means of further conversation with the padres, he managed to impress the necessity of moving quietly, and keeping his mouth shut, while on the hunt. Young Rodriguez, approving heartily of Tecal's plan, left the protection of the Mission to the soldiers, under the command of a seasoned old veteran named Lopez, and set out with his lndian ally to stalk The Killerfl Ordinarily the tribe to which the creature belonged were not man-eaters. But The Killer was a degenerate specimen. He found the taste of Modoc Indian very good indeed, so he made himself a den in the neighborhood of the lndian village, and prepared for future forays on the helpless Modocs. lt took the crafty Tecal but a short time to locate the approaches to the creature's cave, and the two men were soon in hiding near it. Fortunately the monster was out. The huntsmen made no sound, and gave no sign of life. At last they noticed a disturbance amid the tall grasses that grew near the deng there was a movement of a huge something near themg and then The Killer appeared. The shrewd Modoc had chosen his position well. The hunters were down wind from the monster, but within easy musket range. They saw the giant body of the beast lurch clumsily, yet swiftly, toward the entrance to the cave. Rodriguez smiled as he held his musket to his shoulder, aimed at a gray patch on The Killer's flank and waited. His savage companion, outwardly calm, was internally consumed with impatience, anger and contempt for this white man who, at what seemed to Tecal the crucial mo- ment, suddenly developed hunter's fever and was unable to fire when the target was right there before him. Would the fool blunder again and let this golden opportunity slip away? If only he, Tecal, knew how to use the fire-stick, his vengeance upon his brother's murderer would be swift! But to have to depend upon this seemingly useless companion was unbearable! Little did Tecal know Don Ramon Rodriguez. The fire-stick was not a weapon of the Modoc people, but the Spaniard knew how to use it. The Indian's desire for vengeance was not destined to remain unsatisfied. After an interminable wait for the Indian, but at what the Spaniard knew to be exactly the right time, the musket roared. The Killer with a bellow of rage and pain, rose to his full height, fangs bared for battle, then ever so gently sagged, slumped to the ground, and died with a last blood-curdling snarl. The Rodriguez' are as proud and ancient a family as any in Spain. The walls of their home are adorned with many trophies, well and honorably won. But no greater tribute to their skill as huntsmen exists than a certain necklace which a mem- ber of the family earned while serving as a soldier in the King's army in California, and left behind him when he died as a proof of his prowess. It was made by the squaws of Tecal, the Modoc chief. It consists of strong heavy grass fiber, and the claws of The Killer --a gigantic California grizzly bear. WILLIAM NICHOLS. l 13 l