Siskiyou Union High School - White and Gold Yearbook (Weed, CA)

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IN THE SAHARA Sefond Prize Sta-ry El feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sadness only, As the mist resmnbles the rain. THOUGHT of those lines and accepted them as my own. Hundreds of miles from home, nothing to do, not a friend, and a breathless, starry night in the Sahara desert! What other emotions could possibly be aroused in the mind of any healthy young American? This night will pass just as the others, I said to myself. This is just another monotonous night, tomorrow will be another monotonous day when one must wake up to sun and sand and a few commonplace Arabs in an uneventful town. I followed this whim of Pete's-of investigating conditions in Bello, one of the Arabian towns which had been continually menaced by desert plunderers- that I might follow adventure's smile. But I was finding no adventureg there seemed to be no need for investigating conditions in Bello. Any other young American would come to the same conclusion. Wesley Duke, for instance, who disappeared last summer from this very town, must have come to the same con- clusion. I decided to write Pete that I am leaving Bello. He must have had a nightmare if he dreamed anything could happen in this settlement, or if he had misgivings that desert marauders held Wesley a prisoner. Very deeply disgusted with life, I walked out of the gates of Bello toward the sand dunes. Reclining on the dune, through half-closed eyes I looked out across a sea of sand, The strange wild beauty of the desert entranced me even though my heart revolted at such a country. The moon transfigured the grey, desolate sands of the desert to sands of warmer colors. As far as I could see there was sand in heaping mounds, except that far off these melted into a moonlit horizon. There were also millions of stars twinkling down on the peaceful silence. The calm of the night held me under its spell, making me forget my disappointment in this desert life because of lack of adventureg and my soul was filled with a strange peace and awe. Dimly, on the horizon, a tiny speck came into view. I stirred, trying to shake off the magical spell that had caught me. As the object drew nearer, I arose. The dark silhouette was a figure on horseback moving toward me at lightning speed. As the figure dashed down the dune to my side I saw it was a ragged dirty Arab boy of about twelve. Uttering excited, broken inarticulate sentences, he thrust a paper into my hand and was gone as swiftly as he had come, leaving me staring at a torn piece of paper upon which was written in a scrawling hand the following words: Tonight at the stroke of twelve the Mogues will attack the village. To resist them is impossible. Find a horn, thought by them to be the voice of Allah. Sound this and they will flee. If the horn is not found the town will be burned, and the people massacred. The only clue I can give as to its whereabouts is as follows: Tree Y-North 8-6 East-Seven up. A Friend. I gasped in astonishment. There had been truth then in Pete's warning. Again I read the message. A fighting spirit I had always had, but a Sherlock Holmes disposition was not akin to mine. I decided that to find the horn was a waste of time, John Day loved a light and a light he would have! ' I 16l GENERAL LITERARY SECTION

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I supposed it would be.'y Then what makes you think I would care anything about you or your appli- cation ? Billy felt rebuffed. I haven't any idea you do, he answered. But I'd like you to know that I did have a decent idea of earning the money I wanted to get. Mr. jaynes wrote a few words on a piece of paper and then pointed to a glass door across the ofhce. Take this to Mr. Walter Carrigan in that roomf' he said. Billy took the slip and obeyed the directions. He knocked at the glass door and opened it. Then he stood still with amazement. The man standing by the window was the man who had talked to him in the street. Are you-are you Mr. Carrigan ? stammered Billy. 'Tm Mr. Carrigan junior, replied the young man. I've come back, said Billy. I knew you would if you had any self respect. That's why I said what I did to you. I thought you looked like a boy who only needed waking up. Billy stood silent a moment. Then he said, Mr. Carrigan, I know the time- keeper's job is filled but I would like to have a chance to show you- Mr. Carrigan smiled as Billy hesitated and stopped. I am sure you do, he answered. That's why you came back. And I think Ican find a place for a fellow who feels that way. 5 THELM.-x M CCOY '30-Yreka. THE TRAMP Second Prize P00111 He sits by the fire at twilight Staring into the flames. NVhat will he do tomorrow? XV hat are his future aims? VV hat will he do in the winter? When the days are long and cold? His legs are beginning to weaken, For the man is growing old. There is nothing to hope tomorrow- Nothing but pain and strifeg Tramping, tramping, tramping, The long, long road through life. LLOYD JONES '28-S. U. H. S., Yreka. GENERAL LITERARY SECTION I 15 1

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Hurriedly I ran to the village and aroused the sleepy inhabitants: Quick! Get your guns and fortify the town! The Mogues are coming! The news struck terror in the hearts of everyone. Men ran hither and thither, jihbering to each other as they carried wood, piling it against the gate of the city. Women and children were weeping as they huddled together fearful of their fate. I must confess that I myself was not far from losing hope when gun inspection was made and I found only a hundred rusty rifles-a hundred guns, the gates of the village protected by piles of logs, and the clock nearly ready to strike the midnight hour! At precisely twelve o'clock a cry re-echoed through the town, breaking the silence of the desert with its horrifying sound. I glanced over the Wall. Hundreds of white-robed horsemen were swooping toward the wall with a shouting of voices and a firing of guns that could have been heard for miles. Fire!', I cried to my men. Shoot! The men of Bello fired, but not a bullet seemed to find its mark. The Mogues seemed better equipped with guns, for they wounded my men by the score. Peering through a hole in the wall I saw that the Mogues were coming closer and the Bellians were growing weaker. I realized then the need of finding the mysterious horn. Tree Y-North 8-6 East-7 Upg the words flashed through my mind. I glanced back toward panic-stricken Bello. In the center of the town was a tree, two limbs of which formed the shape of a HY. I ran to the tree. North 8 - what could this mean? There were ten Arab houses straight north from the tree. I ran to the eighth house. 6 East 5 I went six houses east and paused. What could 7 Up mean? There were more houses, so it could not mean seven houses up. I heard the battering of the Mogues at the gate and the frenzied call of the Bellians for help. ' If the horn could not be found within three minutes, the town would be plundered and burned. I stood undecided at the sixth house east. Again I heard the battering at the gates. Not hesitating now, I ran into the house. 7 Up -I quickly glanced around the one-roomed shack and saw a stairway leading up to the room above. 7 Up -I stopped at the head of the stairs in desperation. There could not be seven rooms in that small house. I heard the screams of terror from withoutg in one minute more the gates would be down. Running hurriedly to the bottom of the steps I counted them until I reached the seventh, then looked around. On one side was a wall. just above the seventh step there was a small door in the wall. I opened it with fear and hope struggling in' my heart. There lay the horn. Snatching it and putting it to my lips I blew one blast. The gun shots ceasedg the screaming subsided. Again I blew the enchanted horn, and this time I heard exclamations of terror and the swift mad gallop of horses' feet-the Mogues were going. It was not long before they were entirely out of sight. And it was not long before the excited villagers had quieted down for the night. Somehow I did not wish to sleep. I wandered out of the village gate to the sand dune. The desert appealed to me more strongly than ever before. Forgetting the excitement of the night, the disappointments I had met in Bello, and my longing for change of scene, I gloried in the beauty and peace of the desert. The moon was resplendent. I gazed into the great expanses into an everlasting silence. VVhat strange thoughts and feelings the desert yielded me! I had a feeling someone was drawing near. It seemed I could see a distant figure zigzagging toward me. Yes! A figure was staggering in my direction. As I ran to meet him, I saw him drop in his tracks. Giving him a drink from my canteen, I looked into his face. VVesley Duke ! I cried in astonishment. GENERAL LITERARY SECTION ! 17 l