Newport High School - Blunita Yearbook (Newport, PA)

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6 THE BLUE AND WHITE BETTY’S ADVENTURE WITH THE INDIANS By HELEN KIPP, ’27. Betty Neff was stylish, good looking and twenty. She was going on her first visit to her newly married sister's ranch in Arizona. One day as she was watching the landscape from the train window, as it wrhirled through long stretches of meadow land and deep green valleys, a good looking young man camt into the car and sat down beside he r. It was apparent he had boarded the train at the last station for he did not have the bored expression that most of the other passengers had. “Hello, Bright-eyes! he said, addressing Betty. Betty turned to gaze into a pair of laughing gray eyes. How dare you sir!“ she crieel indignantly, as she moveel to another seat in the car. But the young man was persistent. He followed Betty to the seat and said .“Miss ---------” “Will I have to call the conductor?’’ Betty inquired angrily, looking out of the window. For the next two days the young man tried to get a word with Betty, but she always evaded him. On the third day Betty reached her destination. Her sister, Louise, met her at the station. What to Betty’s surprise when she saw the young man coming toward them!

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THE BLUE AND WHITE 5 to their bodies to keep their collars from escaping. Surely this can‘t be true of any student of N. H. S., so our goal is to make use of a quotation such as: “Our heads are large store houses, where any information may be obtained. This can be true of all, and we will make our teachers, professors, classmates, schoolmates, parents, friends and everyone proud of us. Then we shall never be sorry in future life that we spent five-sevenths of each week in our dear old N. H. S. Lives of great men all remind us. We can make our lives sublime And, departing, leave behind us Foot-prints on the sands of time. Minerva Rinehart, 27.

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THE BLUE AND WHITE 7 “Such nerve! That young man’s been following me for the last three days. It's disgusting!” Why my dear li.tle sister!” Louise cried, laughing ’till the tears ran down her cheeks, that’s my husband! Betty, blushing furiously ,was then presented to Louise's husband, Jack Blake. “Oh, I’m so sorry I acted the way I did, but why didn't you speak to me?” I tried to speak to you, you remember, but you threatened to call the conductor. However, I’m sure glad to neet you and I know that we shall be the best of friends,” Jack replied. The next morning Betty dressed herself for riding, and, picking a high spirited horse, started off at a gallop. “Don’t go to the Indian Reservations, Betty, for they aren’t friendly toward the whites, Louise called after her. Indians always had a great attraction for Betty, so Straight to the Indian Reservations she rode. In some places, along the trail, she had to pick her way through dense underbrush. Hearing a noise in front of her she looked up, to see two Indians step in front r,f lur, me grabbing the horse’s bridle. Betty left out a muffled scream as a large hand was clasped over her mouth. “We take her to camp,” said one of the Indians. Then addressing Betty, he continued, “Indians hate all white people. They unfair. We kill you. Big time to-night. We scalp you jus’ like this,” and with this last remark he took hold of Betty’s brown, curly hair and with an imaginary tomahawk scalped her. Betty struggled to get free but all in vain. What could she do? How could she get loose? With these questions revolving in her mind, the three rode up to an Indian encampment. “Get off horse, ordered one of the Indians. Betty could do nothing but obey. Then one of the Indians began beating a tom-tom. From every tent issued men, women and children, all Indians. Each one wore a malicious look on his face and everyone was dressed for some celebration, with faces painted hideously, and wearing the gayest of blankets and feathers. “Tie her to that tree,” said one Indian, who Betty took to be the chief. The two Indians who had captured he, hastened to do his bidding. Then the Indian dance began! Betty, beyond reasoning power, was rather fascinated than otherwise. What awful noises they made! What queer gestures! And see, there is the chief beyond them, with his jeering face and manners! Stop!” he cried suddenly. ‘“Tis time she were killed. The sun is setting. Let us offer her as a sacrifice to the great Sun God. Make room for I shall kill her. WTith great deference the Indians moved aside. The chief, swinging his tomahawk came on, and on,