Oroville Union High School - Nugget Yearbook (Oroville, CA)

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especially Mr. Bent wick, who believed that this night would deprive him of his two dearest earthly treasures, his wife «ad his boy. All night long he sat tense and silent, suffering untold anguish and scarcely daring even to pray that his loved ones might be returned to him safely. It was with great relief that the watchers saw the first sign ot day and long before the sun rose they had resumed their labor of love. The storm had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only devastation on the mountain and in the valley as a silent witness of its reign of terror. Fallen trees and wind-blown branches impeded the progress of the eager searchers and the rain effectually blotted out any chance trace of either lost one. About ten oclock, a cry was heard on the mountain side and the listeners heard the words. “Found, Found, Found!” echoed and re-echoed through the forest and valley below. All rushed to the spot. Joyful, yet fearful. Mr. Bentwick was in the lead with white, anxious face. Which is it?” he managed to gasp, “my wife, my darling.” and could utter no word further. Mrs. Bentwick lay. face down upon the rain-beaten earth with a belt which Alan had worn, clasped to her breast. Tenderly she wras carried home and all was done for her comfort that loving, willing hands could accomplish, while the fruitless search for “little Alan” was continued until the fall of night again. For weeks Mrs. Bentwick lay in a stupor, knowing no one and caring for nothing. During this time she spoke no word except when siezed by a delirious fever, under the spell -12 of which she would call up all the memories of her past life and of her child in a manner that would wring the very hearts of those who listened. Invariably she would rave about the night spent in the forest and start up as if seeing something before her. “Alan, Alan, at last mother's found her precious boy!” For a time it seemed as If she crooned a lullaby to a hurt or frightened child but would break off with a scream that would freeze the blood of all who heard. Help, Help. O, I can't see him die. Save him, save him. (), what shall I do? He’s gone!” she would cry and faint away. Slowly physical strength returned, hut her reason seemed gone forever. To Mr. Hentwick, it seemed more than he could bear to lose his wife and child at the same blow, and, as many another has done, he blamed his Maker. From a kind, good-natured man he changed to a sullen, morose, creature with no word of cheer for any one. and had no faith, either In human ity or in the Divine Powers. Not far from the peaceful, happy scenes of the quiet val ley. but on the bleak side of the friendly, sheltering range, nature alters her benign countenance and show's her wildest, grandest, most austere aspect, but even here, she is beautiful, although in such a magnificent way that she inspires awe. rather than love in all who beheld her, and a vague unrest for things not known. Here she displays her magnificent forests, wild cataracts and shaggy cliffs with their overhanging boulders, now and then giving a faint elusive suggestion of the rich treasures which she had hidden so carefully in her boson , as if to induce those who happened to pierce into the

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A Little Child Minerva Kratz, 14 Nestling among the big peaks of the •Rockies” lies a peaceful sunny valley. It is effectually drained by a small turbulent stream and so sheltered by the mountains that summer lingers there the greater part of the year. Just n«v it was Hastenide and both nature and man seemed to have prepared to welcome its reign of Joy and peace. But suddenly. all the peace and joy vanished before the shock of the startling news. ‘Little Alan Bent wick, son of the village post-master. Is lost! He has not been seen since morning and it is now the middle of the afternoon.” Immediately a party was gathered together and all work suspended for the day. while, in every nook and corner of the small vale, all sought the little favorite, but with no success. At length the villagers despairingly turned their faces toward the wild mountain paths. They were soon interrupted by the falling of night and a fierce wind and rain storm. All were unwillir.gly forced to give up their quest. The violence of the storm w-as such that It seemed neither man nor beast could survive it. When all were gathered together in the little white church in prayer for the return of their loved one. it was discovered that Mrs. Bent wick. Alan’s mother, was not among them, nor had she been since afternoon. when she had been foremost among all in starting for the mountains. It was a night never to be forgotten by all w'ho witnessed it. All were nearly frantic with anxie-.v and -11-

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depth of her forest and mountains to make their abode there for the sake of finding out her secret. An occasional faint train, however, gave evidence that she had ever found those with a heart stout enough or with an overflowing desire for gain, to endure the vast loneliness of her wild passes. liven these, at times, felt almost as if they must give it all up and leave for, try as they might, they could not shut out of their minds, or out of their very souls, the overpowering consciousness ol their loneliness and insignificance, when compared with the surrounding wonders of nature. The same day that Alan Bentwick disappeared. George Vance, a prospector was out in search ol game. He had lately come to this wild lonely place because his wife’s health demanded a higher altitude. Even now she was too ill to permit him to go a day’s Journey to the mining camp for supplies. While traveling the gloomy forest, his thoughts were a'most as dark as the paths he trod. He could not keep his mind from dwelling on the misfortunes of the last few days. It was hard —Me t ree-year-old child. Alan had taken ill and died two days previous.—died while his wife was In such a critical condition thai to tell her might be to hasten. If not direcily cause her death and he would be left in this great lonesome plaie alone -far from friends—home—old ties— with none but his dead and his God to call his own. This last thought made him wince and he lifted a silent prayer that he might be made strong to bear any trial which might come. A slight movement in the underbrush attracted his attention and upon going closer he saw a gleam of white through the leaves. Breaking through the entangled branches, the sight that met his eyes caused his heart to -13 stop leating. There upon the ground lay his child as if asleep! Or was it a dream? But, no, it was reality—some wild beast must have dug his child from the little grave the father had dug with such pains. As if troubled by its dreams the child moved in its sleep and cried “Papa . The words fell sweetly upon the father's ears though he felt more strongly than ever it must be a dream from which he would soon waken. The baby face was cruelly scratched and tom by the briers and his cheeks stained with lately shed tears—no, the child was no his, but so wonderfully like his that only a parent could tell the difference. Where could the child belong? He knew of no near cabin or village from which the little one might have wandered. Could it be that some one could have been so heartless as not to want it and had left it here to die? The thought made him sick at heart, and lifting the child tenderly from the ground h carried it home to take the place, as nearly : .s possible, of the one who was gone forever. The child awoke as he entered the doorway and cried. Mama,—mama!” Mrs. Vance, aroused by the baby's cry. opened her eyes and looked around, as one In a dream. Alan” she called, and (Jeorge carried the little one across the room and laid it in the rude bed beside her. Alan clasped her around the neck with his little arms and fell asleep, murmering. Mama. I fought I was losted. but here you Is.” Mrs. Vance steadily improved and was soon as well and strong as ever. She noticed a great change in ner boy but