Polytechnic High School - Caerulea Yearbook (Long Beach, CA)

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12 CAERULEA '20 derrick the caris motor suddenly stopped: the stage careened toward the side of the road and came to a standstill, its headlights still burning. The lights winked. Curious, thought Little Yellow Dog, and proceeded to in- vestigate: but, when nearing the ear, he was startled by a sudden movement and hid near the road. He saw a mail bag thrown out of the car on to the road and a figure in black climb out of the rear seat. Three horsemen came riding up from the ciirection of the derrick, one 01 them leading a saddled horse. The figure in black handed up the mail bag to one of the riders and swung into the empty saddle of the fourth horse-and away with the others, across the desert. under a velvet, star-studded sky. Even then, Little Yellow Dog was wary in approaching the silent car. Suddenly his small nose recognized a familiar scent, that of his Man's own person. He ieapt to the front seat and whined and sniffed frantically in great joy at seeing his master again. But, after several minutes of joyful play, he realized that something was wrong; the Man was still and unresponsive. He licked the warm blood from the unconscious man's face and curled up against him, not understanding. As a great desert moon shot up, the Man stirred slightly. The at- tentive little dog again grew frantic. But it was hours before the Man reached slowly for the water bag and drank long of the luke- warm water in it. Seeming somewhat revived by this, but greatly dazed, he petted the dog, and slowly, clumsily, climbed out of the car. With the water bag over his shoulder and Little Yellow Dog at his feet, he started on a dazed plodding stumble down the road towards Lost Hills, eight hot anti long miles away, Little Yellow Dog, barking sharp little barks, tugged at his puttee straps continually until finally he pulled the Man oif the road and onto the trackless, crisp and merciless desert.

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LITERARY l I With drooping head and tail, Little Yellow Dog took to the out- skirts of the camp, haunting the oii-camps. foraging for bits of food. BY day he slept in some deserted den or in the shade of the sage- brush. By night he prowleci around the camps and hunted the few small animals that exist on that baked valley floor. One soft night, answering the call of his wild blood. he turned his sharp nose toward the bare. lifeless Western hills. Far oii from the black, gaunt forest of tall oil-derricks was a lonely, deserted Wildcaf' well. Little Yellow Dog's course passed it. As he neared the silent, skeleton-iike derrick, he noticed a small, glowing fire, around which three men sprawled at rest. Four horses, ready saddled. were quietiy standing by the foot of the derrick. Perhaps the men might leave scraps about, he that: so he laid his pointed nose between his fore-paws and watched and waited in the shadows. 0:: the same night, across the Coast Range at the coast station. the driver was filling his gas tanks. loading in the mail bags and making ready for his first trip over a dangerous and lonely moun- tain and desert road. When the valley railroads were again running, the driver had been assigned a new run, the long, tiresome, night-mn , from the Coast to Bakersfield with the registered mail, which passed thru Lost Hills. III Keen hearing, inherited from ancestors of the desert, enabled Little Yellow Dog to hear the faint roar of a iar-off motor long before one of the men by the oiI-derriek heard it and stepped out into the highway close by. Little Yellow Dog crept out to the road. For long, listless days he had watched and waited for a roaring black car to come in over the desert. Now one came. The glare of its headlights increased as it neared. When about a hundred yards down the road from. the sentinel

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LITERARY 13 Slowly the Man came to realize in a dull way, that he was off the road and ignorant of directions. Feebiy kicking at the dog, he swore the cut was to blame-he was! Time after time the man fell, just slipped down easily, and each time he was slower in rising to his feet. Now and then Little Yellow Dog guided his stumbling steps at will, by merely pulling at his straps. After four hours of silent, painful progress, they came at last tn the shallow oil-sumps of the Lost Hills Fields. The Man's eyes were tight shut: the water bag Was gone. Dawn had not yet come. The dust rose in clouds and choked and blinded them. Many times the crawling pair came near to the fate of the pre- historic animals of the La Brea oil-pits-a slow, horrible, miring in the thick black oil; but the dog pulled the man aside and on-- always eastward. Finally, after ialling. the Man failed to rise after a long perioci of stillness. Little Yellow Dog barked and started away in vain time after time. A pumper, with his oil can and flashlight in hand, was making his lonely rounds from derrick to derrick on the Vulcan lease when he was suddenly startied and somewhat scared by the approach of a small, coyote-like animal. which barked in a high pitched appeal- ing tone without apparent fear, leping away repeatedly in a certain direction. Obeying an impulse, the pamper followed and found the Man , unconscious, in the first gray light of the new day. The gray old field-doetor stated that the Man , with three fractures in his skull. could never have made the eleven miles to the town-site alive but in cutting across the desert to the closer oii- camp he had saved his lifeebut we know who guided him. Littie Yellow Dog now rides on the running boarci of the Lost Hills mail-stage and the Driver lays a kind hand on the little yellow head now and then as the stage roars along the dusty desert road.