St Thomas More High School - Utopian Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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.14 fufid BY WALTER McINTYRE, 51 WO YOUNG college mining engineers, searching for silver in Peru, stopped briefly at the juris River to refresh them- selves. was really thirsty, remarked jim Bailey. So was I, replied Bob Renton. What's that iloating there in the river? How should I know? retorted Bob. Jim waded out to the object, which was toss- ing to and fro on the waters. He scooped it out of the muddy stream and returned to the shore. It's a tin can that's got a note inside. Let's see it, jim. Wait a minute. I'll read it, countered jim. Boyl Listen to this: 'Please, whoever finds this note, please come and help me. This terrible experience of mine started a week ago, Septem- ber 21st . . . ' That's only ten days ago, interrupted Bob. His companion resumed. . . . Juan Hernando, my partner, and I were prospecting for gold in the Quinto region. juan had made the choice, to which I was op- posed, of prospecting there. It was growing dark, and we decided to pitch camp immediately and get a good night's sleep. I was exhausted and fell asleep almost at once. Suddenly I found myself wide awake and staring up at a big black native. juan, who had a fair knowledge of the III ll 74 . .., ., - 1 1 f, gf -, ': .... - I . if V ll . .1 Qsifi f ' i3-Q it -lv ee.. -trr a T' . lil fg2f'1wy1- ,- 3 ' .1 -yi..s,V,.lg 9 .4 -gg, It .1 f .' S r ff 5 'A-:rang-.f:f1sg'., ,.?,1 -- ' Lg ' : 4 4. 5 xff f lf il lil-13' . '7-lTi'- ' 7 fl 5 , ' . I uf. g y!!! .Qi 3 E fi 2 L-VI.. .. , ill-,iff if f yillpfi . I li 1 1 Z sis : , , 5 I , ,q y, g will -' 'TSE . 'Fir-fi ' ' - ' ' ' Nj,.lJl-iff.. ' Y' jj. ml'f 7N Nkglkiia EKLIIJ' 3 .553 -4 ,I ' . lk A'7 a,Y ' i'. 11'3 . , , XX. 'gi I 2 5.5 1. i? I D' if 13 , 51 'fi' ' ' xi.-if - jf , I 'fgsg-65,21-'-' 3? ' I YA Nik' NR if 2 'Q ix it ' IN S fm? W '- 12 A W W , ?s'jff-5525 .13 xv: X . V-,,-, li?-iigh t, rf . ,, rx lx xx. t .wx uf, Lg. - '. -, - -' iv., lg J - ' X , A ff! x 'Nwggm m 7, 'K .X ' ragga' W cl . , g1.Xxi.bil.X ,'5,,RX .i 5 XX regional dialect, was able to engage him in con- versation. I learned from Juan that the native was friendly and that he had lost his way in the jungle. I decided to give the native the extra blanket and settled down to rest again. . . . The next day the native returned our favor by taking us to his tribe. We were greeted and treated royally. The chief, who had little respect for white men's ways, rewarded us for THE UTOPIAN

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one or two other men. In an attempt to save their not-so-highly prized work of art, they grasped frantically for it. With a herculean tug, I freed the front door, and leaped to the street. Chet and the other boys, thanks to Providence, were sauntering along, taking in the sights and sounds. Quickly they sensed trouble and re- quired no invitation to get going as I picked myself up and headed down the block to the car. Ya think, you're scared! panted Chet. Ya shoulda been with us! The hour seemed like a year. We wuz jest commin' for ya! The sight of the six of us, or their greater concern for their merchandise, must have dis- couraged the two old men. We doubted that they would summon the policeg actually, we didn't wait to find out. We piled into the car, veered around the comer and disappeared, headed for home. Home! I never thought the word would mean so much, or that I would even see home again. The trip home was lively. Though I was in no mood to talk, with the memory of the last hour still fresh in mind, I eventually yielded to persistent requests for details of my experience. The highly colored facts needed no further embroidering. The boys were visibly impressed. Hank commented upon the pitifulness of be- coming entangled in such practices. All had derived a new concept of the word danger, At 11:35 we pulled up at our house. I hoped that my ,adventure wouldn't show upon me. Chet was the :first of the group to remember our bar- gain. I'Iere's my buck, he said, you eamed it! Tlie others in turn paid off with similar observations. Ronnie reluctantly lished in his pockets for the remaining quarter. As I stepped from the car, he flipped the coin from his thumb. THE U TOPIAN . We all had a good laugh before Chet ripped the car into -gear and began to pull away. Be seein' ya! he called to me. Thanks for the contributions . . . and the ride, I said. What a time we would have to- morrow night, just Debbie and I! I slept fitfully that Friday night. Such dreams! Saturday moming, after breakfast, I called Debbie in order to complete arrangements for our date. The ensuing telephone conversation merits relation in detail. It began: Hel1o! Hello, Debbie. YesP Rudy. Oh, hi! About our date tonight. What time shall I pick you up? Well...er...yousee...uh...I'mnot allowed out tonight, Rudy. But that won't break our date, I hope. You can still come over, and we could watch the television, and dance or something . . . that is, if you want to. Why-uh, sure . . . sure. Gee, that's swell, Rudy. I'm glad you agree. You know, I'd much rather stay home anyway. It's so much more fun staying home on a date for a change. Yeh, that's right! Can you be here by eight? Sure thing! Eight's fine! Okay, then! I'll be waiting. See you at eight. Goodbye. Bye! I hung up, banged my fist against my head. Inside, images begain to whirl: Girls! Money! Bets! Cigarettes! Opium dens! . . . Oh, brother!! .73

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A 1v., ,4,.f5'.,'-,f.Qf 4, - K, A -- if ' - ,. ff...,.w.1 .ff - ..-- fff if 1, - I .4 gc ,I . . ffig. Q.71f12g. ,.3 W , I I T J X. :..:,4:-gg? 2? 3 I . V i wuz., ,t i ,. . .Sf 1 . . 9 ,. I ' 1 '7 - ' ' ' Q24 1' 'Q 5' , f VQ ,Ya ' ' , 123, fkfi Am A-f I I . .I+ .. 4 ., 3 . ,, -f i A fill' 'V' fi I 5 s r' Q f 5-. I t T- Q igbn , , . ,, -' ,ff f. ' r fri f' 13? ' f 'K 'fi 5 ' ' 1. 55 3314 ' K ' i -. 1' 1 -t 1 ...t he 1,9 'HI J 5 ,x ,tu 2 'Mfg v, 1,1 . . , it Y if f . A 1 1 .5 nf. .- F JJ. I f' 4 . 171 'x - . up , , If Y f ' I i s I -'JFSHZIJI4 ' X .iff I 7 f If 1?-1 '.awv f ' 1 H .H- our kindness with lifty nuggets of the finest gold ore that I have ever seen. That night I awoke shortly before dawn to discover that Juan was not there. Shortly after sunrise he returned and, thinking that I was asleep, went back to his blanket silently. Juan, I noticed at breakfast, had got his clothes covered with dirt, but I did not mention his peculiar behavior to the chief. We were just THE UTOPIAN Q about to leave the village when a native came into the camp spreading the news that the chief's son was dead and that the gold cache of the tribe was gone. The chief called a meeting of the tribe. It was evident that he was overwrought and he spoke excitedly. I understood him only imper- fectly but I gathered from Juan that he blamed everything on the white men, that before their arrival Kakana had been free of trouble. The next thing I knew a half dozen or so of the natives had seized me and bound me with what seemed yards and yards of hemp. They did not bother: with juan at all, and it occurred to me that they accepted his part-Indian stock as a suflicient guarantee of his innocence. I tried to protest, but to no avail. It was clearly too late to bring forward the matter of Juan's strange deportment. He would have denied. it vehemently, and anyway an accused white man would never have been believed. The chief ruled that as a just punishment I should be buried alive with the body of his son in the tribal tomb. The tomb, I soon found, was nothing more than an underground cave. After I had over- come my initial terror, I set about exploring the fetid tomb. At length I came upon a passage which led to an opening in the side of the moun- tain overlooking the juris River. It was a very narrow opening, and there was no hope that I could ever escape through it. But it at least meant that I could breathe, and that I would die of thirst and starvation rather than suffoca- tion. And it also offered the dim hope of rescue. And so I am writing this letter. When I have Hnished I shall place it in this old canteen and throw it into the Juris. The drawing at the bot- tom will give an accurate idea of the location of the tomb . . . What Juan didn't know was that I had found a gold vein up North last month, and I offer a half interest in this mine to whoever rescues me . . . Quick, jim, let's pack up and get started for the Quinto region. That tomb can't be more than live miles from here. There's no hurry, his friend muttered grimly. The 1etter's signed: 'Eric Van Dusen, October 5, 19033 .75