Westdale Secondary School - Le Raconteur Yearbook (Hamilton, Ontario Canada)

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LE IIAITINTEIIII Squid Harbour By Frances Riley AT Nelson knew that she should be back on the boat, but she loved the freedom and strange stillness of these northern waters. She loved Squid Harbour-the most beautiful harbour. she thought, along the entire northern coast of British Columbia. But where did it get its name? Then suddenly she remembered her father. her friend Betty, and Drake, the very attractive en- gineer, who were waiting for her. She really must go back. Swiftly turning her small boat, she made towards the yacht. Iler father chaffed her as he helped her up the side. Young lady, I won't let you go away after dinner again if you don't come home before dark. Some home we live in, returned Pat, laughing good-naturedly, and casting a glance around the yacht. Nevertheless, continued her father, it is dan- gerous for you to go out on these waters at night without an older person. You were so late to-night I was just going to have Drake weigh anchor and sail after you. Pat ducked into the cabin, curled up in a chair, and started to read. Betty, lying comfortably on a sofa helping herself to chocolates from a nearby and very tempting box, offered one to Mr. Nelson as he entered. And, my lassies, what did you to to-day boonied Pat's father, now fully recovered from his anxiety for his daughter. NVell, we went ashore after lunch. Sent some telegrams. VVent swimming. And then, I think, went to sleep, drawled Betty lazily. I went snooping around Squid Harbour, as you know, added Pat, glancing up from her book with a twinkle in her eye. Did you find the tunnel? asked Drake suddenly. Pat sat up immediately, all attention, waiting to hear what came next. Drake spoke so seldom that one expected him to say something important, and his fund of stories was as famous as his silence. Oh, I-,H she stumbled, I didn't find the tunnel. No-but I did find a cave. It was full of barnacles and everything. Squid Harbour Cavern, I guess. said Drake, tying the loose ends of Pat's somewhat inadequate description into a neat knot of certainty. Pat could not help noticing Drake's eyes. They were so blue that even the smoke screen which his cigarette made could not prevent the blue from showing through. Do you know the story of how Squid llarbour got its name? asked Mr. Nelson. No, I was just wondering who gave such an awful name to so beautiful a harbour. l'at an- swered almost indignantly. lletty began to look interested now. She had a hobby connected with names and where they came from. She liked chocolates, but her hobby came first. I was told this story about ten years ago by an Indian guide who came with me on a hunting trip near Squid Ilarbourf' Mr. Nelson had lighted his pipe, and was smoking refiectively. ily the way, the Indians won't cast anchor in the harbour under any circumstances. Thats why I left Running XYater at Victoria. Running 'XYater was an Indian guide who lived on the Nelson estate and accompanied Mr. Nelson on all his trips. Many years ago, some Indians were on a yacht with a Captain Somers. .-X storm came upon them. and the captain, against the wishes of the super- stitious Indians, insisted on casting anchor in Squid Harbour. It was after mess that he went to his trunk to arrange some papers, sat before an open porthole and- Caught a chill, lletty suggested lightly, but Pat silenced her. Several weeks later a search party went after 'The Bonnyf as Captain Somers called his ship. lklith no little difiiculty they broke into his cabin. and fell back horrified. The Hoor was littered with a smashed table, and beside it a large hunk of squid arm. :X squid. you know, he explained meaning- fully, is like an octopus, but the arms come from the head. Then he continued: 'LX blood-stained knife lay by the door and the gory stains around the porthole were in themselves evidence enough of how Captain Somers had been pulled. bit by bit. through the porthole, into the sea. Pat trembled obviously as she cast a fearful glance at the open porthole above her head. Sillyl smiled her father. The last squid was killed over twenty years ago. Immediately Pat put on an air of defiance. as though she dared any squid alive to come and iight with her. CContinued on Page 63D 13

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LE RACCINTEUII Sandy Craig's Good Deed By B. Blake NE evening at Bluebottle Cove. as the sun was sinking behind the purple hills of the Rockies, Sandy Craig appeared from a boathouse at the waters edge. ln this house Sandy had been lab- ouring for several hours on the hull of a sleek black and silver outboard racer. This boat was the prize possession of Clipper Craig. Sandys father. Richard Craig, nicknamed Clipper because of his ability to clip off time from world records, was a prominent figure in the life of the small resort of Bluebottle. Two years before Clipper had met with a serious airplane crash while on his way to a regatta at Long Beach, California. After spend- ing' three months in the hospital. he had been advised to retire to a small town, and had chosen Bluebottle. in which he now resided. On arriving at Bluebottle, he at once had his special boat sent up in parts, and. regaining his health, he, with the aid of Robert, better known as Sandy, had re-assembled the boat. :Xt the Annual Regatta in which liluebottle. Lakeside, Sunny Harbour, Portland and Sailfish Cove participated, Clipper had made an immediate enemy of Ralph Todd, the son of a wealthy banker of Lakeside. by taking away Ralplrs record by two and one-half minutes on the straight-away course of five miles. At the same time he also gained the firm friendship of Don Bently, an orphan whom he befriended while waiting for the race in which he was entered. Don. a brown-haired, blue-eyed boy of fifteen, the same age as Sandy, was standing at the front of a crowd of race-goers. watching the boats warm up, when the crowd surged forward. shoving him off the pier into the path of a speed boat. Clipper. seeing the danger, shouted to 'the lad to swim for it. Sandy took the situation in at a glance. dove overboard, and swimming to the struggling boy. jerked him aside just as the boat whizzed by like a rocket. Finding, on enquiry, that the lad had no parents, Clipper took him to their cabin. Clipper then returned to the lakeside and climbed into his craft just in time to warm up the engine. Bang! The race is on, and Sandy watches till they round the point. and then retires to look after Don. Giving him a suit of clothes and a piping hot meal tended to cement more firmly a friendship that was already as strong as steel. Clipper came home victorious and left Sandy to house the boat and overhaul it. Don watched this with interest, and after several days knew much about motors. The last day of the Regatta was only twenty-four hours away. Sandy stood in the kitchen preparing 14 breakfast. Don and Clipper had gone for a walk up the bench. Suddenly the window broke and a rock landed at Sandy's feet. Looking down, he saw a note tied to the stone. Picking it up, he read, XVe, the holders of Donald Bently and Clipper Craig. demand that you forfeit the race to-morrow, which, if won by you, would take the title from a certain party. lf you agree leave a note in a hollow tree just off the junction of Highways No. 20 and 12 by seven o'clock to-nightfl This was signed The Holders. Sandy busied himself for about an hour wrap- ping various things. .-Xt noon he sneaked out un- seen and was soon at the appointed place. He worked feverishly for half an hour, climbing trees, rigging wires, etc. Soon he surveyed his work and smiled in satisfaction. Placing a paper in the tree, he left for home. At six-thirty a man slunk away from a cabin and raced to a tree at the junction of Highways 20 and 12. He peered cautiously about and proceeded to walk stealthily to a tree. Sud- denly he tripped on a wire, a net descended on him, and Sandy pounced from the bushes on the figure. .Xfter severe questioning the fellow broke down and confessed that Don and the Clipper were being held by some men in a fish shanty on a deserted part of the shore near Sunny Harbour. Sandy left the man bound and gagged and ran to the boathouse some two miles distant. He im- mediately launched the craft, warmed up the engine and was off up the lake to the shanty. About half a mile away he cut his motor, went ashore and crept up on the hut. By the light of a candle in the hut, he could see three men at a table, and in one corner Don and Clipper lay bound and gagged. l'ulling two automatics from his pockets, he quietly pushed the door open and calmly ordered the men to raise their hands. Swiftly but cautiously he backed to Don, stooped down, and, cutting his bonds. left him to free Clipper. Don and Clipper, being free, quickly bound and gagged the men who only a little while before had had them in their power. Extinguishing the candle, the trio left and headed for the boat. VVhen they reached their cabin at Bluebottle, it was almost three o'clock in the morning. Clipper telephoned the Sheriff, giving him the location of the shanty where the three pris- oners were and they all retired and slept until eight in the morning, when they arose, breakfasted, and went to overhaul the boat before the Final race. fContinued on Page 591