Petersburg High School - Missile Yearbook (Petersburg, VA)

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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

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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

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much. An Indian brave courted an Indian maid, from a different tribe, in opposition to his own people. Finally his tribe became so critical of him that he and the maid decided that the only Way they could be to- gether Was to leave this World and go to their Happy Hunting Ground. One night they Were discovered in their secret meeting place by the side of Kitch-Iti-Ki-Pi. They jumped to their feet and plunged into the spring. The Indian braves rushed to save their tribesman, but as they reached the bank, they saw the couple sucked down into the boiling quick sands of the whirlpool. My curiosity was well satisfied for having left the well-beaten path of mankind to see the end of a small trail. A Falling Star By Thelma Starnes As I sat gazing one dark night Into the velvety sky, I saw a star come rushing down From its Jhome up there on high. I could not help but think about How much like life it seemed, How much like the lives of the human race, And Inmarveled as I dreamed. What wonders the mighty Hand can do, To snatch it from its place And send it crashing to the ground, Not reckoning with space. And I thought of what that mighty Hand Can do to a human life, By hurling it from the highest place To the very depths of strife. But also it can take a soul With many a scar and dent, And send it soaring to the heights Like a star in the iirmament. Page twenty-four T H E M I S S I L E