Polytechnic High School - Polytechnic Student Yearbook (Los Angeles, CA)

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Diego, saw to that. They stuck around very closely. They didn 't seem hungry, for they didn 't stop buzzing around long enough to eat. I took it that they were amused. That's what exasperated me so. Finally we washed down the last of our professional hard-tack with a swig of warm water from a patent, self-cooling canteen. I questioned Jerry as to the apparent failure of the canteen's work. He laughed. You can't expect too much, he said. I had found that out some few hours before. But I seem- to have forgotten. We were going to concern ourselves with the filrst professional evening of Jerry 's and my professional outing. Well, so we s a 1. Jerry and I drew straws to determine who should trot down a miniature precipice to fetch a pail of fresh, spring water. I went for the water. Then, on my return, we drew straws to determine who should wash dishes. Jerry received the honor. After that we drew straws for everything. It seemed to be the only professional way. At last dinner-we called it that-was prepared. Consequently we sat down to enjoy it. It seems that the bugs had planned a vesper service at this particular spot. A mighty congregation had assembled. Those who failed to sing communed upon our bread and brown cookies, and then washed this repast down with a drink from the edge of our water pail. It was very pleasant, indeed ffor the bugs. They seemed not to mind us in the least, save for a few who insisted. looking us square in the eye. We discouraged this practice as much as possible, but there were still a few hangers-on inquisitive enough to risk a slap in the face for their impudence. ijThey'1l go away sooner or later, Jerry assured me. 'fhlaybe by tomor- row. At last dinner was a thing of the past. Jerry washed the dishes: they, I might add, were tin. Except for this fact, I should hardly have allowed Jerry the honor. When everything had been put away, Jerry and I sat down and looked at each other. My face registered disgust. Jerry kept his under better control. Z-zzz-z!', came a noise from under a bush. What's that? I ejaeulated. '4Be still. Jerry replied. It's only a snake. I jumped up. What are you going to do about it?,' I demanded. Jerry never moved, and danger right at hand. Hepossessed an unbalanced self-control. What's the matter? Do you want to tease it? Sit down, I tell you! he bellowed as loud as a cautious whisper would permit. I sank limply down. From the bush a long, lean, curving neck, or what looked like a neck, ham- mered down to flatness at the end, shot quickly out some ten feet, it seemed, and hissed. Jerry put a finger to his lips, perhaps to insure silence. I didn 't move. I couldn't. And now Jerry did the professional thing. He pulled a small automatic revolver, took a quick aim, and fired. The long neck jumped straight into the air to a height of five feet and came down a wriggling mass of what seemed to me a part of a dream I had had the night before. Jerry had shot the intruder's head off. He said the snake was dead. It didn't stop wriggling long enough for me to substantiate his convictions. Well, I said. 33

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4 long I lay in bed. I came to my senses again, though, when I felt some one roughly shaking me and calling my name. It was my partner back from Dawson with supplies. After Wymer had finished there was much discussion as to his state of mind and his imagination. You know another singular thing, he said, is that the first thing I did, after getting back to the States, was to write to that fellow 's mother. But I never heard from her, the letter was returned. I say, old man, said Thompson, did you strike gold while in Alaska? Wymer got up and stretched himself. Do I look as if I did? he said. - There was a shout from Blair. Haven't you heard? Do you know what he did? He landed in Seattle with just enough money besides his ticket to telegraph to his father, 'Meet me at the station with a shirt. I have the pants., CAMPING-ENJOYABLE? Harry Bowers, W'16 Yes, quite a few of us have camped out. Most of us have, in fact. With a skillet, a blanket, and a side of bacon thrown carelessly across our backs, we start out for a week's outing and a good time-maybe. There's not o11e of us. however, who won't return with a peeling nose, and one that is very brilliant where the sun has kissed it into a rosy hue. It 's the sign of the amateur camper- out. Occasionally he boasts of it-quite unnecessarily. As I have implied, the percentage of us who have camped out is large. Even so, there are a few of my friends who are yet uninitiated into the joys and trials of a week elsewhere than at home. For them I shall relate a few of the incidents of my trip to Pine-knot Gulch with my good friend, Jerry Bluders. And by the way, he 's a professional outer. That 's what made it so difficult for me. He dragged me into his profession Without so much as an introduction to the smallest details-unaccustomed as I am. It seemed hardly fair to me. I shall go alone next time-if there is any. I might tell all about the preparations I had made for this great event, but it is unnecessary to do so. They became as nothing, that is, when Jerry saw them. He took one look and laughed, and then he told me I had prepared too much, that I wouldn't need any of the things I had planned to take along. I protcstedg he didn 't flinch. He said it was going to be a professional camping out. He let me know that a skillet, a blanket, and a side of bacon are all that are required. That's all there was to it. We started out-professionally. I came back dis- gusted. I shall spare Jerry the embarrassment of telling how he came back. Moreover, he doesn't speak! of it to anyone. It 's rather sacred to Jerry, you know. First, let me say that it is quite unnecessary to concern ourselves with the trials of reaching our destination. That's a different story, Therefore we will consider that we have arrived and are enjoying a delightful evening at Pine-knot Gulch. The day had been hot, and an uncertain breath of air stirred up enough pure mountain dust to iill our eyes and noses almost to the limit. The path wasn't a difficult one to traverse, but it had become provokingly long. I had noticed it particularly. At noon we had found a beautiful little spot beneath a wide-spreading grease-wood bush. There we ate our lunch. We were not alone, however. A drove of mosquitos, or tear-bugs, or something pestering, on its way to San 32

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Well, he mimicked, what are We going to have for breakfast? Fried potatoes, coiee, muff- Look here, I demanded, how much of this sort of thing does one have to stand on such expeditions? Do I have to sit by and see you shoot snakes and then listen calmly while you recite a bill of fare? If that's in the profession, then you may withhold my diploma. It's me for civilization tomorrow. Jerry commenced apologies and explanations. I got sleepy listening to them and I told him so. He suggested that we turn in. I clung to the suggestion with a frenzy. I thought, perhaps, sleep would annihilate further discomfitures. But alas! Jerry began to undo the bundle containing our sleeping hammocks. I watched eagerly. I had found a. good place to swing mine, but my bag wasn't there. Only one fell out. Where'd mine go to? I demanded. You must have forgotten it, he smiled in a half-witted fashion. Forgotten it! You forgot it yourself. Who tied 'em up? It was you. Now, you can give me yours. It 's your fault. Jerry knew I was determined, but he saw a Way out. t'Let's draw straws, he condescended. I thought of the snake and my chances of sleeping on the ground if I lost. Nix, I said, we'll both sleep in it before I'll do that. All right, he consented, we'll both sleep in it. Let 's tie it up. S 2? if if il ill SF A few hours later found Jerry and me swaying side by each in the hammock between two trees we had selected for the purpose. However, our attitudes were different. Jerry slept-actually snored, I remained wide awake. I was deprived, even, of the alternative of a deep sleep in which to smother my discomfiture. And now, to multiply my troubles tenfold, came more bugs. They were of all denominations and shapes. Some resembled aeroplanes. One passed over my head about midnight. He was of the monoplane type. I struck at him, and he chose a higher altitude. He hovered around a long time, I know, for I heard his engine wheezing in mid-air. I looked every minute for a bomb to drop. Finally, with a spiral dive, he struck my head and began some sort of a tattoo on my forehead. I made a flank movement from the rear and broke his propeller. He fell to the ground. I had hoped this victory would discourage any further air raids, but it didn't. All night the bugs maneuvered above our camp. And, blast it all, Jerry slept. The next morning, when Jerry awoke, I had my skillet, my blanket, and my side of bacon thrown extraordinarily carelessly across my shoulder. Where're you going? he called to me. Where It came from-home, I let him know. Wha.t! You're not leaving me now, are you? I'll wait till you've packed, I replied coolly. But-bu- HX: 'lk 3? it :lk IF Sk Well, I shall not discuss this particular adventure to a further degree. You will now readily gather my point-is camping enjoyable? From a professional point of view-perhaps. In line with my vision there's a peculiar oddity con- nected with it. The joy is only for those who hear you tell about it afterwards. Camping !-a strange condition in the affairs of men. Strange, I repeat. 34