Roosevelt High School - Bwana Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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A VISIT TO HA-HA-TONKA ESTLED in the Ozark hills at the farthest southern tip of the famed Lake of the Ozarks lies a nature's paradise. It is Lake Ha-ha-tonka, the source of which is the Niangua River, a stream Howing northward from its source in Webster County, Missouri. Few finer spots for those interested in wild life can be found. There is a cavern, featuring small animal life, for no plants can live without some sunlight. There is also a spring, which Hows into the lake, whose shores abound in animals, plants, and minerals. One glances into the clear, rippling water and sees innumerable little brown snails resting on the bottom, often a small fish Hitting to and fro in the sunlit shallows, or maybe an odcl many-legged crawfish progressing sedately along the lake floor. As a person strolls along the shore, a water-snake forsakes the weeds of the bank for the water, a more familiar haunt to him: he may be long and lithe, or short and sluggish, according to his species. But look! out there fyou must look sharpj Hoats something which resembles a piece of woodg but no, it is a turtle's back and see the rough, short spikes projecting from the shell-yes, he's a snapper, powerful, sinister, yet curious and interesting. Once those vise- like jaws close, they can be opened only by their master's consent or by great force. As one turns from the water, the eye is arrested by the sight of something far clown the shore, which resembles a patch of slaty blue mounted on stilts. All at once a lance-like beak darts out from the patch. It is a bird, a great blue heron, often known as the blue crane. He is at the moment fishing and ufrogging in the shallow water. Almost without exception, every time that dagger-beak leaps out, it spears some unfortunate fish or frog. Near-by, one hears myriad little clucking noises, indicating the presence of little shore birds known as rails--how timid they are! But they must be, for the hunter takes great toll of their number. Standing thus, one hears familiar honk-honks as a flock of geese Wheels in formation from the clouds down onto the waterg there they swim about, contentedly, feeding on small plant and animal life in the lake. An even more interesting collection of sounds turns a person back from the shore to the woods. Herein sound the varied calls of birds: the loud pit-pit-pit of the flicker,flitting from one tree to anotherg the familiar note of the red bird, sitting in all his crimson glory in a nearby tree: the soft, clear, haunting call of the little white-throated sparrow from a tangle of underbrushg and, from up on the plain above the forest, the cheery whistle of the meadowlark. As the eyes turn to the sky, there is seen, sailing on motion- less wings in great sweeping circles, a buzzard, often known as a turkey vulture. His place in this great life-pattern is a necessary, though not a coveted, one. Then as one slips silently through the woods, a cottontail rabbit leaps up and away, his White tail lifted like a flag. No fox or weasel or deer is seen, for these are too shy or crafty. ln the mud we see the child-like track of a raccoon, a queer animal, with furry grey body, fox-like head, and ringed E ighleen

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of the day, seeing only three other creatures--a pair of cotton-mouths and a snapping turtle. These cold-blooded denizens of the river were engaged in a battle to the death. Their slimy bodies lashing the water to foam seemed to hark back to prehistoric ages when giant reptiles and creatures of the deep fought ghastly wars with each other. And now, as l recognized familiar landmarks and knew I was near camp, Old Sol, who had completed his day's journey, disappeared beneath the horizon, while l witnessed the glory of the sun-set. Towards me rolled the lazy Gasconade. And the glowing colors of the sunset on the surface of the water, slowly shitfing and changing with the current, added to my deep contentment. Where the river came into view at a distant bend, it was like polished gold, for there it was most exposed to the sun. Midway down its channel, the river was a translucent strawberry-pink, for there it reflected the images of the clouds. And below me, the water was a pure deep green, for there the stream was shallow, and water-weeds grew in abundance. Had l been asked, during the evening conversation, whether my venture had been successful, I would have said that outwardly it had not. But in rny heart would have rested a feeling of satisfaction for what l had seen. CLARENCE KARR FIREFLIES ON A SUMMER NIGHT The night is dark, And in the park Flint countless firefliesg Now off, now on, And now theg'ue gone, To drop-and then arise. A pale gold light, Yet it is bright Against the inky blue. Elusive and gay They flit away No one knows where lo. Audrey Boelling Seventeen

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tail. Small as he is fit often weighs no more than thirty pounds, he is a formidable adversary for all but a large and powerful foe, and woe to the blundering hound that attacks him! The picture is not complete without the appearance of a gray squirrel, chattering from a treetop. These wild things are but a few of the creatures, interesting and varied, to be found in almost any similar region in our central United States. Our state of Missouri has many different forms. One can get a great deal of pleasure watching for them. WILLIAM KERSTEN Hd 'Il K f ' il., . M 1 , H- 2, ,J 5-at BITTERSWEET N THAT vast region from the SunHower State to the Atlantic sea- board grows an order of the nightshade family, which might be called the Knights of Shade . These hearty, red-blooded chevaliers bear the peculiar, contradictory name of bittersweet. When the season of gray skies and Woods comes to sadden the heart of the wanderer, they cheer- fully aid him-give him strength, and send him on his way. Each knight is clothed in a dull, yellow cloak until the time arrives when he must shed it, displaying his bright red armor beneath, ready for any act of kindness. Those tiny red knights, little crimson berries, are the tokens that autumn has arrived. Farmer boys sell the brightly ornamented twigs on all the well- traveled highways leading toward the city. And for those that wish to gather the scarlet fruit themselves, Nature liberally scatters it in fence rows and moist thickets. No autumn is complete without the bittersweet with its strag- gling woody stems and waxy globes of fire. To the woodland adventurer, there is, in the spring, another gift of the bittersweet to behold-its blossoms. The regal purple of these blooms is often considered to be the rival of the delicate shades of the violets. Nor do they limit themselves to one color or design. Different varieties bearing blue blossoms, or white with greenish spots, are often seen. ln the form of the green leaves, the heart and spearhead of the red knight are fittingly com- bined. The attractive berries are not designed alone for our enjoyment, but for the migratory birds, who, devouring them, carry the hard, indigestible seeds many miles from the parent vine. CLARENCE KARR Nineieen