Southwest High School - Roundup Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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. very good job. The canvas was not easy to paint on: yet in a crude sort of way the picture did resemble the bird. Just then Tom's mother interrupted and wanted him to help his father Hx the wagon. A troubled frown appeared over Tom's eyes as he thought again of how their wagon was stalled all alone in the wilderness. Tom, as well as his mother and father, knew the danger of one lone wagon traveling westward, for they were now getting into the territory of the Apache Indians. Soon the wagon was repaired, and the family gathered the provisions together and started on to overtake the caravan. They proceeded on their way for two days, and in another day would have overtaken the caravan if it had not been for the breaking of one of the singletrees of the wagon. Tom's father announced that a new singletree must be made: and no matter how fast he worked, it could not be finished before mid-afternoon. Would they catch up with the other wagons before they were attacked by the Apaches? Tom was thinking of all these things as he turned to the picture on the side of the wagon. He picked up a bucket, and set out in search of water. Close at his heels came Cecelia and Louise. Just then a flock of wild turkeys strutted across the road. Their bronze feathers gleamed in the sun. Tom told his two sisters to run back and tell the good news to the family. The morning shadows were flung across the sand creek as Tom walked in the middle of its dry bed. Somehow he was afraid. He did not like to be there alone. The way grew more fearful as he went on farther. He won- dered if his voice could be heard back at the wagon if he called. Just then something sticking up above the tops of the brush made him stand still in fright. It was the top of an Indian tepee. Tom would have raced back to Sixteen

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COVERED WAGON By JoE BRITT A strange looking bird nearly two feet long, making a queer chirping sound, dashed across the road. The three children standing near the covered wagon watched it stop and look back at them. Nearly half its length was tail, which suddenly stood almost straight up as the bird came to a stop. The children grew excited and tried to catch it, but they didn't go far because their parents had warned them of the Apaches. Cecelia, the oldest, suggested to her brother Tom that he get out his new paint set and try to paint it on the covered wagon canvas. These three children lived more than a century ago. Their wagon was slowly wending its way from Missouri to California. Just now it was stranded miles from any habitation, in the territory of the Apache Indians. At this particular moment, Tom Ward was not thinking of the Apaches, but of how the bird would look painted on the side of their covered wagon. He wondered, as he started to paint, just how he could make the feathers ruflled. He must not forget to paint the bright red and blue spots behind the eyes, and the tail must stand up at its proper angle. When Tom finally had finished and stood back to view his picture, there was displeasure in his eyes: he had not done a Fifteen

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the wagon at once, but fear held him motionless. Were the Apaches really this near their wagon? If they were, his father must not dare to fire a shot to kill a turkey. No campfire, whose smoke would disclose their camp, could be built. Tom grew more and more curious to see who lived in the Indian village. Almost holding his breath, he crept towards the tepee. Soon he was directly in front of it. He lifted up the flap and looked in, blinking his eyes to see better. Then a pair of black, beady eyes met his. Why, it was an Indian! He was lying on a bed of buffalo skins. The Indian lay there helpless, his ankle swollen. It was probably sprained. Tom stooped to examine it. The Indian moved. Tom straightened up. Had the Indian reached for his toma- hawk? Fear held him for a moment. The Indian pointed toward the bucket he was carrying, and motioned toward his mouth. Oh, he was thirsty. Tom felt a surge of sympathy. After giving the Indian a drink of water, Tom ran back to the wagon and told his parents about the sick Indian. Tom's mother gave him some turkey to take to the Indian. How hungrily the Indian ate! After he had finished, the Indian Wanted Tom to help him to the top of the knoll. The sun was quite warm on the hill and no shade could reach them there. When they got to the top of the hill, Tom looked down the side of the cliff and was surprised to see their wagon close by. He saw the Apache looking at it closely. He was studying the painting on the canvas of the wagon. Tom was very happy that he had given food, water, and aid to the Indian. Soon the covered wagon was creaking on its westward way. They looked back at the knoll Where Tom had left the Indian and saw tall smoke signals. These signals were answered by neighboring tribes and sent on to other tribes. The covered wagon with the queer painting on it was not molested. The Seventeen