Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

Page 26 text:

Removing his left hand from Terry's lapel with the speed of lightning, he jabbed the gorgeous dagger into the lapel Where only a second before his hand had rested. The blind Hassein with the agility of a tiger sprang back several steps and patiently waited for Terry's body to fall dully to the floor. Terry fell forward on his face. The dagger, which possibly might not have killed him, was driven entirely through his body by the impact of his fall. The old man leaned over the body and with the manual skill of a blind man withdrew from Terry's pocket a cigar case in which there were ten cigars. Taking them out, the old man balanced them for a moment in his hand, then smiled as he thrust them into the silk sash that encircled his waist. Without any further delay than to slip on a light Indian top coat, the proprietor hurried to the rear door of his establishment, opened it, Went out, closed it softly behind him and Walked through Chinatown toward the San Francisco waterfront. . . . . They say there is an unsolved case in San Francisco con- cerning the murder of a millionaire believed to have been killed by a blind curio importer. IV. INDIA . was Far into the inland of India in a village known as Jaipur thousands of natives walk slowly every morning at sunrise to pay homage to the protective god of Jaipur, whom the natives call Naida. Among them is an old man, who, with the rest of the mass, bows three times reverently, then resumes his seat before an antiquated hard- wood table, on whose surface there is, carved from solid blocks of wood, small likenesses of the huge idol Within the temple. On the bottom of each idol there is inscribed the words Naida of Jaipur. The idols are exceptionally well done, although the carver is blind. Thousands of tourists annually come miles through the scorching heat to see the huge idol with its distorted face-and the emerald that is embedded in its forehead, which, having been stolen nearly a half century, mysteriously reappeared in the brow of the prodigious idol. Page twenty-two T H E M I S S I L E

Page 25 text:

rection in which he had been standing. There was a small idol, whose face was contorted beyond description, gazing at Terry with ogling eyes. Be- tween the protruding orbs, high up on the forehead, was a small, green, imitation glass emerald. Though it was only an imitation it shone bril- liantly. At the base was carved in small letters, Naida of Jaipur. Terry's complexion changed quickly from a feverish red to a leaden color as the blood drained from his face. Terry turned again toward the old proprietor who was standing in the same position as when Terry had entered. Addressing the other old man Terry said, I'll take this small idol with the inscription--let's see, I believe it reads 'Naida of Jaipur! That is a remarkable resemblance of its model, they tell me, the old man said. The stone in the original must be a handsome gem, 'ventured Terry -then he added slowly as if thinking suddenly became rather diificuit, Beautiful-just like a gargantuan cat's eye. The old man in front of the fireplace whirled around, then stopped short as if afraid of some unseen object. I Terry raised his eyes from the small idol and glanced at the man now facing him. There stood before him an ancient, grey-haired man, whose long beard fell to his waist. Unfortunate fellow, Terry said to himself. Not only is the old codger bent double with age, but he's also blindg his eyelids have grown together from years of lost vision. Hassein spoke again, this time more softly, more imploringly. I have some curios that I'm sure you would be interested in-they're so rare I thought it best to keep them under lock and key. If you step this way, sire, I would be only too glad to show them to you. Led by the old man Terry followed him into the back room in which there were many piles of boxes that had not as yet been unpacked. Has- sein led Terry to one corner of the storeroom and there turned toward him. Reaching out his hand toward Terry, Hassein said, Excuse me, sire, you are standing in front of the drawer in which the curios are. I-Iassein's left hand touched Terry's coat lapel and pushed him politely backwards, apparently out of the way of the drawer. Simultaneously Hassein's right hand opened the drawer and extracted from it a jewel-studded dagger, obviously of oriental design. Terry's eyes widened. Why, that is an exceptionally beautiful thing. I should like to have it, he said enthusiastically. Would you ? asked Hassein slowly. But without Waiting for an answer he added quickly, Then take it! T H E M I S S I L E Page twenty-one

Page 27 text:

Kitch-Iti-Ki-Pi By Edythe Martensen C A AVE you ever had the urge to leave the well-traveled highway to follow some little byway? Have you ever been pleasantly sur- prised when you reached the end of the byway and found some- thing that was very unusual and inspiring? . , One early summer day in June, I was traveling from Sault Sainte Marie, to northern Wisconsin. I was going by Way of the Lake Shore Drive from Manistique to Escanaba. About five miles out of Manistique, I saw a sign telling about Kitch-Iti-Ki-Pi. It sounded inter- esting, so I went down a little gravel road oif the main highway, moved by an unconquerable urge to see something unusual. The heavy foliage of the trees met over the road making a bower of leaves. After driving about three miles, I came to the end of the road. Here was one of the great wonders of the North, Kitch-Iti-Ki-Pi, the Indian word for the spirit of the Big Spring. The spring is from thirty to seventy feet deep and from three to four hundred feet across. From the spring a stream winds in and out through this heavy forest like a green snake. This fast flowing stream feeds Indian Lake. The sides of the spring slope toward the center and resemble a large bowl. There is a raft, which is attached to a cable, that goes across the spring and back. In the center of the raft is a glass-covered opening for observation purposes. There is a certain feeling of uncanniness that holds you spell-bound when you first see the spring. The water is icy cold. Certain sides of the great bowl are an emerald hue. There are various forms of plant life, lichens, moss, and here and there the remains of some monarch of the forest that has harkened to the spell of Kitch-Iti- Ki-Pi and laid itself down in its mystic depths. The 'bottom of the spring is of white sand, with many springs boiling up-like fountainsg these springs empty one into another, constantly changing the appearance of the bottom. The moving sediment forms many interesting and weird objects. The water is transparent and seems to magnify. If you drop a nickel into the water, it flip-flops and zigzags its way to the bottom. When it reaches the bottom, you have a feeling that you could reach down and pick it up. You can even read some of the lettering on the coin. There is a legend connected with this spring that interested me very T H E M I S S I L E Page twenty-three