Willard Middle School - Target Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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4 THE TARGET The order was quickly obeyed. When the French commander be- held soldiers in such a small place defy him, he determined tocapture the tower before continuing on his way. By this act he lost Dover, the capture of which would have made England a part of France, for it was the only strong point in England then holding out against the rebel Barons and the French. And so that stormy night the young master set out, and we will now return to find him well on his way to Dover, and the purusuing troops proceeding inland. The dawn was just streaking the sky, for by this time the storm had abated, when the youth came within sight of the walls. In less than an hour he was safe inside Dover, where he told his story to the commander, Sir Hubert de Burgh. Thus by his quick thought and action he prepared Dover for the defence. The French seeing they had under estimated the strength of the tower, left for Dover, leaving only a small force to continue the siege. But it was too late. They had been too con- fident of capturing this small tower, and thereby lost both. This story is based on facts, but the ride though true is Unknown to History. MORGAN COX. THE BUFFALO. I sing of the noble buffalo Which, in the days of long ago, Roamed the grassy M-estern lands, Raided by large Indian bands. The white man came with gun and horse, And slew the herds without remorse, And now the skins are on the floor; The buffalo roams the plains no more. HOWARD HAMILTON CLARK. 1913, MY UNLUCKY YEAR. I left camp one day with pole and bait, and started on the seven-mile hike to the big pond, a hole some twenty feet deep. A beautiful stream dashed over the rocks and fell with a continuous thunder into the pond. It was said that the place swarmed with brook and salmon trout. For a fact I could, every once in a while, see one flash in the sunlight as it tried to leap up the falls; or another splash after a dive. I baited my line and, half-crouch- ing behind a boulder began to cast; here, there, in the shade of a rock, then back to the falls again. I notic- ed that the sun had gone behind some heavy clouds, but thought noth- ing of it. After a little while, I changed my position, casting from a different quarter. At last! — a strike, then a steady tugging. Oh! how that line reeled in. Finally the trout was near enough to be seen. He wa s a beauty, about thirteen inches long. During the ex- citement, having moved too near the edge, I lost my balance, and not being able to recover myself, splashed, pole and all into the water. The line spun off the reel like a flash of lightning, and when it reached the end, — snap! Down to the bottom went fish and line. I pulled myself out, and greatly dis- gusted, angry, and also wet, started back to camp. But it seemed as if I had not gone more than one hundred yards, when the heavens appeared to open, and what a deluge descended. Thoroughly soaked already, and car- ing nothing for the down-pour, I ran from tree to tree, until I reached camp, where, after a warm fire and dry clothing, I felt considerably bet- ter. HAROLD WOOLSEY.

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THE TARGET UNKNOWN TO HISTORY. 3 A clatter of hoofs is heard grow- ing fainter and fainter as a rider dashes on through the rain and wind of a stormy night. Soon after the hoof beats had died away, a more reg- ular beat, but of no less a pace was heard, and a company of horsemen dashed madly by. The storm clouds had by this time concentrated their forces until they burst, and the storm was upon the horsemen dashing wildly on, heedless, headlong and seeing nothing of the passing landscape but what the bright flashes of lightning revealed. Never was a night so bad as this. The storm doubling in fury became so terrific as to render it impossible for the riders to make any headway. At about this time the first named horseman quickly turned into a clump of bushes, and there waited un- til the company had passed. Then turning about, he dashed back on the same road until he reached the cross- roads. Seeing by the dim light of the post-lamps the road he wanted to take, he turned his horse into it, and again began his headlong gallop into the stormy night. While under the glare of the lamp light we will hurriedly glance at him. A young man, he was, scarcely of age, with a face that peered from the hood of his riding cloak, tanned by ex- posure to the elements. His eyes were blue, his forehead high, his firm mouth and fine nose denot ed a deter- mination and strength of character seldom seen in one so young. But what was this youth ' s mission on such a night as this? Early on the morning of the day which had a rosy beginning, and end- ed in a storm, this youth was sitting quietly eating breakfast with his mother and sister with whom he was discussing in low tones certain troubles and conflicts which had arisen in the turbulent reign of King John. The room in which they were sit- ting was situated in a strong tower looking down on a small castle, but one of extraordinary strength. It was of such small dimensions it was right- ly called a tower. Little thinking of any lurking dang- er, they were greatly surprised when in rushed a servant who told them that the advance guard of Louis, the French claimant of the English crown, was before the gates demand- ing admittance in Louis ' name. An involuntary Ah burst from the assembly, for by this time the serv- ants were in the dining hall. Then en- sued a silence, for everybody was waiting for the young lord to speak. We will defy Louis, were his first words. All of you quickly don armor, and find weapons each to his own fancy. If we can only hold the tower for forty-eight hours, Dover may be saved. Our people there lit- tle dream of the French army being so near, and must not be taken un- aware. Roland, you sir, saddle Prancer, and leave him a mile or so behind the tower. Leave by the postern as the army is already in sight, and it would be foolhardy to use the main gates. Come back, if you can, because every man is needed in such a crisis.

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THE TARGET 5 THE BETTER SHOT AND THE BETTER MAN. Members of the Riverside Gun Club had been practicing for some time for the shooting tournament now at hand. Big Jim, a traveling trapper, got wind of it through an old news- paper. He decided to try his luck as he said. 1 M He arrived there the day of the tournament, a typical frontierman. The inferior members of the club were not in the reckoning. At the first shot, the ball went wide of its mark, while Brown, the clubman, hit on the outer edge of the bull ' s eye. In the second shot Jim did himself justice, but on account of his nerv- ousness (he was not used to facing a crowd) the third went wild. Brown had won with honors. The judge gave him the little sack of gold. When Jim was shaking Brown ' s hand he said, Waal, I thought I could shoot a little bit but I guess not, and with- out another word he stalked off the green. While walking along a wooded ave- nue, he met Brown coming up. The victor said, May I walk with you? I hope you have no hard feelings. Jim threw back his head and laughed saying, No,pard, but where are you going? I am going to visit some people with whom my little daughter Agnes is staying, replied Brown. As they neared the clearing in which the old house stood, far on the outskirts of the city, they saw with horror a great mountain lion, about to spring on a little child. My God! It ' s Agnes! cried Brown. And so it was; she had won- dered out to play in the brook and this thirsty ravaging monster had seen her. Brown dropped his gun, his nerve gone; but not Jim. Raising his rifle, he fired. The beast sprang, but it was a death spring. He fell in his tracks, shot through the head. When Brown realized the truth he said, with tears in his eyes, Jim! This proves to me, who the best shot is, and moreover, it proves to me that you are the best man. Take this money and may it do you great good. You deserve it. Jim replied shaking his head, No, Brown, I can ' t do it. If I had it I would not know what to do with it. This teaches me a lesson. Civiliza- tion is not for me. I go, and never shall civilization see my face. I can shoot in the face of danger, but not for money. WHELER JENSEN. THE MOON AND DAWN. The moon still bathed the summer sky As the dawn flung dewy arms on high. The moon, the sun ' s path craved to sea, And dawn from danger would not flee. Each sought the world that they knew not Like man in earth ' s great melting pot. Moon and sun, the heaven ' s power, Aid and source of every flower, Why not morn and darkness lighten And leave the heart the day to brighten ? Each day to life and duty bring Your nature gifts that make heart s sing. NANCY BOOTH.