Woonsocket High School - Quiver Yearbook (Woonsocket, RI)

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THE QUIVER AN ADVENTURE IN THE SIERRAS 11 To the average Easterner, the word Calfornia signifies a land of sunshine, a land where flowers bloom the year round and all the fruits of the eerth may be had for the picking. Doubtless he would be surpris'd to lei.rn that in the high Sierras the snow falls to the depth of ten, twenty, and even thirty feet, at the rate of six feet in a single night, and that in snow storms men have perished not a dozen feet from the dicker which they sought. Even in these deep snows, the mail must go through. Late in the winter, when the snow is well packed, the mail is carried in sleighs drawn by two or three pairs of horses on snowshoes, until the road is well broken, when the snowshoes are taken off. These snowshoes, which are made of two plates of iron about a foot in diameter, with a plate of rubber between, and which are fastened to the horse’s hoofs by means of screws and toe straps, are useless in the.soft, deep snow; so the mail must be carried by men on snowshoes during the greater part of the winter, over routes varying in difficulty, and from ten to forty miles in length. Such a route was the one from Wayback, a way station on t,he old Oroville Emigrant Road, to Gordon’s Ranch. The route was a rather difficult one, twelve miles in length. The road wound up between firs, which towered two hundred feet into the air, to the summit, Walker’s 1 lain, so named because Walker and two companions perished there in a storm many years ago. From Walker s Plain, which is about fifty-five hundred feet above sea-level, it is about three-quarters of a mile to Eagle's Nest, a way station consisting of one large log cabin. From Eagle’s Nest, the road dips down to Gordon’s Ranch. Over this road on a winter afternoon went Cassidy and Smith, trail carriers. It was in February of the hard winter oi ’89-’90, when the snow lay twenty feet deep along the Sierras and only the gables of Eagle’s Nest showed above the surrounding white. The mail had been late in arriving at Wayback, and alarmed by gathering clouds, the two traveled at a good pace in order to reach their destination before night. But darkness fell before they arrived at the way station and with the darkness came the storm. The wind roared through the trees like the very demon of the mountains, and swirled the falling snowflakes so thick and fast that the travelers could not see ten feet in any direction. Something had to be done. There was small chance of finding Eagle’s Nest and there was no shelter at hand. Ordinarily, when snow is only ten or fifteen feet deep, a fire can be kindled by touching a match

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10 THE QUIVER WHY AM I A SOLDIER? My duty to my nation was to join the soldiers, in order to serve my country in time of peace and give my life in time of war. 1 am glad to do this for a country like the United States, where Freedom, lirother-hood, and Equality absolutely dominate. I will tight against the Turkish Government—a government which has no place in this civilized world ; a government whose education has not progressed since the sixteenth century; a government which has changed the paradise of Armenia into a wild country. 1 must light to have my vengeance, because the blood of Armenia, including that of my father, my mother, my nineteen-year-old sister, and my seventeen-vear-old brother, will cry out to me. If I do that, I shall be serving my nation, which loves freedom, and shall be helping to make the world wide enough for the man who loves freedom to live in. SARKIS S. KAVAKIAN, 19. THE FOREST IN WINTER After walking some distance, we arrived in the thickest part of the forest. Everything was wrapped in the most profound silence—a silence peculiar to the winter when there is deep snow. A white blanket, pure and unsullied, covered the ground. The tall pines were so laden with it that only the green of the underside of the branches was visible. The smaller trees and bushes, somewhat sheltered by the pine trees, stood out stark and bare. The slanting rays of the sun, filtering through the branches overhead, cast a mellow light over everything. The‘solemn silence, the purity of the snow, and the majesty of the pines made us feel strangely awed. LAURA LA FOND, 18. A PET DOG The best picture of a dog that I have ever seen was a painting of White Spitz. The little fluffy dog was seated on a stool. His two front paws were held up. and he sat as erect as a little dog can sit. Upon his little black nose was placed a lump of sugar, just beyond the reach of his tongue. Around his neck was tied a piece of yellow ribbon, which was a great contrast to his white, fuzzy fur. The gleam in his eyes seemed to implore, “Ah! have a heart. Give me the sugar and relieve me from this suspense.” LEO O DONNELL, ’18.

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12 THE QUIVER (o the pitch which oozes out of the trees about that height, hut that was buried under many feet of snow and it was impossible to light a lire in the boughs of any of the small fir trees. Cassidy knew that they would not survive the night unless they kept moving. 1 hey began to wander in a circle, getting colder and more tired as the night wore on. Finally Smith dropped in the snow and refused to move. Cassidy knew that to remain there even a few minutes meant death. Frantically he ran to a tree somewhat shorter than the rest and broke off some branches. Returning with these, he jerked Smith to his feet, and telling him to walk, began to strike him. Smith, crying and begging to escape, was mercilessly beaten until dawn. Cassidy endured untold agonies, for by midnight all the feeling had left his feet and a deadly numbness had begun to creep up his legs. At last, however, the day dawned clear. After it had become sufficiently light, they looked about for Eagles Nest. Imagine their surprise when they found that they had been engaged in a game of tag around it all night, and at one time had passed within ten feet of a corner of the roof, which lay buried under the snow. They gained admission to the cabin through a door in the roof, and were made comfortable by their comrades, who did relief duty. Cassidy, however, having his legs frozen to the knees, never entirely recovered from the effects of that night; but he says that,he is content, for he saved his comrade’s name from being added to the long list of those already claimed by the Sierras. HAROLD A. COCKROFT. ’18. OUR LITTLE “LEW” As I am studying in my room with my mind intent on my lessons, two small hands are suddenly clasped over my eyes. This is quickly followed by the question, “Who’s this?” I unclasp the hands and look into the laughing face of my little brother. His large brown eyes twinkle merrily under his long eyelashes. His dark brown hair shades a fairly broad forehead. A smile is always playing on those little red lips, but his firm chin shows that he can be grave at times. He is just going to bed now, so he is barefoot. and is dressed in his night-clothes, which fit snugly round his well-shaped little body. In fact, he looks so attractive that I cannot help hugging him before I say good-night. HYMAN S. MAYERSON, 18.