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

Page 26 text:

WHEN A MAN IS A MAN SECOND PLACE STORY Rather absently Bill put the gun aside. Surely it was as clean and ready as a pistol could be and anyway it made very little difference whether the gun were in condition or not, he'd probably never get it out of the holster before Slade shot him. Slade the gambler-Slade the gun-man--Slade-the most dreaded gun fighter in the country who's lightning fast draw was legendary and whose Victims lay buried in several states. And looking across the table at the wide blue eyes of this boy of his. He wondered again for the thousandth time why he had gone into the saloon and why he had sat in at that poker game and why on earth he had ever accused Slade, of all people, of cheating. But he had and now he was faced with teaching this boy, his kid, the last lesson he'd ever be able to teach him. He had done all he could for this boy since his mother had died-clothed him, sent him to school, taught him honesty, loyalty, fairness-and now this. The boy said: Gee whiz, Dad, do you have to meet Slade? Why canlt we run away and go to Arizona or some place? I've got my squirrel rifle and we could take a pack and I could shoot rabbits for us to eat and we could go by the old Indian trail and walk it in two weeks and-Aw gee whiz! Do you just have to hang around here and let Slade kill you? Now, it was necessary to tell this youngster that a man never runs from trouble, that in order to respect himself he has to fight for what he believes is right. If he does this and has faith, justice will always be done and he will never lose by it. Glancing at the clock he realized with a little shock that it was nearly time to start that long walk down the crooked, dusty, tree shaded street of the tiny town. He and Slade would probably meet just about opposite Hurley's store with its high false front nearly hidden by the branches of the big cotton wood tree growing by its side. And then . . . He shook himself a little and said: Son, I want you to take your rifle and your suitcase and go on out to Nelson's and wait for me. If everything goes right, I'll come for you there and if it doesn,t, Nelson will put you on the train and send you to live with Aunt Betty. Now come on, Son! Keep your chin up. Tears were not made for men. You got everything? Well then get going. So long boy-and God bless you. He watched the youngster out of sight, then turned back rather heavily and picked up the pistol, loaded it carefully and rather absently dropped it in the holster at his side. He put the cleaning materials away, glanced once more at the clock and decided that this was it. The hour had finally arrived. It was time to start for town for that last walk down its little street. At exactly 12:00 noon he turned into the upper end of the street and noticed how strange and empty it looked without any of its citizens hurrying to and fro about their business. They were all inside, of course, watching from whatever safe vantage point they could find. The door of the saloon at the other end of the street opened suddenly and Slade walked out, glanced up at him and started slowly to walk his way. He moved off, then stepping slowly and surely, determined to sell his life at as high a price as he could get for it. They came nearer and nearer and he could see the hawk-like arrogance on Slade's face and the keen shifting, darting eyes of the professional gun-man that took in every tiny detail along the street. And now they were in shooting range, each of them tense, alert, each searching the other for some sign of weakness, watching for any tell-tale movements that would warn of the draw-every step bringing them closer and closer together, until finally they were stopped just opposite each other half-crouched, gun hands hovering 22

Page 25 text:

SAVED FIRST PLACE STORY Our family was very large and we always counted on the crop each year to see us through the next. Sometimes we were disappointed though, because a farm in the sand hills of Kansas is not too prosperous. Nevertheless, we would always start over again, not even thinking of moving to a richer or more fertile land for at least not wanting to, because we had always lived there as had our ancestors from way backj. During this particular year, we were very much in need of a good crop. The year before, a sandstorm had come suddenly, blowing the seeds from the ground, and the season was so late that the second crop we planted didn't even come up. Yes, we were desperately in need of a good crop. Dad decided that we would plant early this year, so if necessary, we could get in a second planting before it was too late. The planting began in the latter part of March and kept us boys out of school for nearly three weeks. Of course we didn't mind. Jed, the oldest of us, drove the tractor and plow. The rest of us-John, Bill, Jerry, Mark, and I-planted and sometimes traded off with Jed. Father wasn't too well and we wouldn't let him do much of anything. After a couple of months of good weather, the crop was doing fine, and bright green sprouts showed up all over the field. They seemed to grow very rapidly during the next month, and the field was beautiful to see, with the wheat swaying to and fro in the light summer breeze. Even mother, who rarely had anything to say about the crop, remarked to dad, Ed, I believe this will be the best one we have ever had, don't you? Looks like it, but don't count on it too much. The hot weather has 'ust begun I S and you know what that means. I agreed with mother, this was far the best wheat in the whole country. On many an evening I would wander out into it, breathing in its fresh, clean smell and dreaming ahead for the future. Father wasn't kidding when he said the hot weather had just begun, because in less than two and a half weeks the flowing fields of green had turned a light golden color, even more beautiful than the green had been, and it had grown at least two feet. As the days passed, the heat became almost unbearable. One morning we boys all went out with out shirts off, and within three hours our backs were blistered. It showed on the crop, too. Instead of ripening slowly, it nearly burned up. and we were reallv worried. Father went around saying, Why does this happen to us? not realizing all the farmers around were going through the same thing. Mother prayed for rain all the time. You see, it really meant a lot to all of us. To Jed, it meant going to college to become a lawyer: to us boys, it meant having an old car to drive to school instead of the horse and wagon. To Dad, it meant new tools and machinery, and to mom, a nice Sunday hat, supplies and many other things. Then one day it was so terribly hot that we all stayed in the cellar, the only cool place around. The wheat looked as if at any minute it would shrivel up and fall over. There wasn't even enough wind to blow it over. We were sitting around, not even talking which was very unusual with six boys around, when we heard a rumbling noise which scared us nearly half to death. We were sure, as the sky turned dark, that it was a sand storm brewing, but when I saw a flashing streak of lightning, I knew it was a rain Storm instead. Mother cried, Halleluja, my prayers have been answered. I told you this was the best crop we had ever had and this is just what we needed to make it so! ARLENE NELSON, MT. SHASTA HIGH SCHOOL. 2l

Page 27 text:

W, , near their guns, their concentration strained to the breaking point. Then Slade spoke, Well, Bill, what do you say now?,' Bill answered, I still say the same Slade, you're a cheating coyote and I aim to rid the world of your ugly carcass! If you didn't just come out here to talk, go for your gun! For a moment Slade's shifting eyes seemed to rest at a point above Bill's head and then quite suddenly he changed from an arrogant hawknto a cringing cur. He whined, Well, Bill, I guess you got me. Reckon I'll be gettin' out of town. With his left hand he slowly unbuckled his gun belt and dropped the weapon in the dust at his feet. Then he backed away a few steps and turned and fled toward his horse in front of the saloon at the lower end of the town. With a leaping thrill in his heart Bill realized that as soon as he got a drink and his legs quit shaking he could go on out to Nelson's and get his boy and tell him that when a man has courage to stand up for his rights that no harm will befall him. And the kid, hurrying on his way was deciding in his heart that his dad would never know that what Slade's roving eyes came to rest on as they stood opposite each other in the street, were the cool blue eyes of Bill's boy and the ugly round muzzle of a squirrel rifle looking out of the branches over the false front of Hurley's store, ready to blow him to oblivion at the first move he made toward his gun. MARION WILEY, MCCLOUD HIGH SCI-toot.. THE SEA SECOND PLACE POEM Silent, mysterious, fathomless, it lies ---- the sea. The calm depths veil their secrets and lie hidden to the eye. The sea-gull wheels above the deep and screams his morunful cry. Ruthless, unresisting, irrepressible, it lies ---- the sea. Many the ships that have gone down its waves, Many a man lies, the sea-bed his grave. Undeniable, ageless, defying, it lies ---- the sea. Many a time it has washed on its shore, The hulks of the ancient galleons of yore. Peaceful, calmly, still, it lies ---- the sea. Many the storms this old sea has weathered Many the souls King Neptune has gathered. Contented, ancient, quietly, it lies ---- the sea. Though it lies there so calmy, no aid will it lend. And the relentless, cold sea, will remain to the end. BLANCHE I-IARDER '47, WEED HIGH SCHOOL. 23