Guide TIMSHALL: A Saw-Toothed Career

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He set up a negative sort of clucking and said, 'No, no, no. No one—one—two. No two—two—four,' meanwhile rubbing his stomach. I just stared at him and he went through the business again. No two—two— four. Tweel was using the few English words he knew to put over a very complex idea. What, let me ask, does mathematics make you think of? Get it? Because, my dear biologist, that's where his brains are! Not in his tiny head—in his middle!

This flora and fauna aren't earthly; your biopods prove that! The pyramids ended. Whatever built it was still inside; we'd trailed 'em from their half-million-year-old origin to the present. I yanked out my automatic I had a clip of Boland explosive bullets in it and Tweel, quick as a sleight-of-hand trick, snapped a queer little glass revolver out of his bag. It was much like our weapons, except that the grip was larger to accommodate his four-taloned hand. And we held our weapons ready while we sneaked up along the lines of empty pyramids.

The top tiers of bricks were heaving, shaking, and suddenly slid down the sides with a thin crash. And then— something—something was coming out! Armored, I mean, with scales, silver-gray and dull-shining. The arm heaved the body out of the hole; the beast crashed to the sand. No other limbs, no eyes, ears, nose—nothing! The thing dragged itself a few yards, inserted its pointed tail in the sand, pushed itself upright, and just sat.

Then, with a creaking and rustling like—oh, like crumpling stiff paper—its arm moved to the mouth-hole and out came a brick! The arm placed the brick carefully on the ground, and the thing was still again. Just one of Nature's bricklayers. I was about to slip away and move on when Tweel pointed at the thing and said 'rock'! I went 'huh? Then, to the accompaniment of some of his trilling, he said, 'No—no—' and gave two or three whistling breaths.

I said, 'No breathe! Tweel was ecstatic; he said, 'Yes, yes, yes! No, no, no breet! The arm was going up for a brick, and I expected to see Tweel caught and mangled, but—nothing happened! Tweel pounded on the creature, and the arm took the brick and placed it neatly beside the first. Tweel rapped on its body again, and said 'rock,' and I got up nerve enough to take a look myself. The beast was made of silica! There must have been pure silicon in the sand, and it lived on that.

We, and Tweel, and those plants out there, and even the biopods are carbon life; this thing lived by a different set of chemical reactions. It was silicon life! I must go see! Il faut que je— ". All right! Anyhow, there the thing was, alive and yet not alive, moving every ten minutes, and then only to remove a brick. Those bricks were its waste matter. See, Frenchy? We're carbon, and our waste is carbon dioxide, and this thing is silicon and its waste is silicon dioxide—silica.

But silica is a solid, hence the bricks. And it builds itself in, and when it is covered, it moves over to a fresh place to start over. No wonder it creaked! A living creature a half a million years old! If this weren't the original pyramid builder, the series would have ended somewhere before we found him, wouldn't it? That's simple enough, isn't it? Before the third brick came out, there was a little rustle and out popped a whole stream of those little crystal balls. They're his spores, or seeds—call 'em what you want. They went bouncing by across Xanthus just as they'd bounced by us back in the Mare Chronium.

I've a hunch how they work, too—this is for your information, Leroy. I think the crystal shell of silica is no more than protective covering, like an eggshell, and that the active principle is the smell inside. It's some sort of gas that attacks silicon, and if the shell is broken near a supply of that element, some reaction starts that ultimately develops into a beast like that one.

Well, I did. I smashed a couple against the sand. Would you like to come back in about ten thousand years to see if I planted some pyramid monsters? You'd most likely be able to tell by that time! That queer creature Do you picture it? Blind, deaf, nerveless, brainless—just a mechanism, and yet—immortal! Bound to go on making bricks, building pyramids, as long as silicon and oxygen exist, and even afterwards it'll just stop. It won't be dead. If the accidents of a million years bring it its food again, there it'll be, ready to run again, while brains and civilizations are part of the past.

A queer beast—yet I met a stranger one! The dream- beast! That's the best name for it—and it's the most fiendish, terrifying creation one could imagine! More dangerous than a lion, more insidious than a snake! I was tired and a little disheartened by Putz's failure to pick me up, and Tweel's trilling got on my nerves, as did his flying nosedives.

So I just strode along without a word, hour after hour across that monotonous desert. I knew what it was. It was a canal; I'd crossed it in the rocket and it meant that we were just one-third of the way across Xanthus. Pleasant thought, wasn't it? And still, I was keeping up to schedule. I kept thinking of a good hot meal, and then from that I jumped to reflections of how nice and home-like even Borneo would seem after this crazy planet, and from that, to thoughts of little old New York, and then to thinking about a girl I know there, Fancy Long.

Know her? Nice blonde —dances and sings on the Yerba Mate hour. Well, I was thinking about her, feeling pretty lonesome, and all the time we were approaching that line of rubbery plants. And there she was —Fancy Long, standing plain as day under one of those crack-brained trees, and smiling and waving just the way I remembered her when we left!

I stared and pinched myself and closed my eyes and then stared again—and every time, there was Fancy Long smiling and waving! Tweel saw something, too; he was trilling and clucking away, but I scarcely heard him. I was bounding toward her over the sand, too amazed even to ask myself questions. He grabbed my arm, yelling, 'No—no—no! I tried to shake him off—he was as light as if he were built of bamboo—but he dug his claws in and yelled. And finally some sort of sanity returned to me and I stopped less than ten feet from her.

There she stood, looking as solid as Putz's head! I knew it couldn't be real, yet—there she was! Fancy Long! I grabbed his arm, but he tried to push me away. He pointed at her and said, 'No breet! No breet! I don't know why I stood there watching him take careful aim, but I did. Then he squeezed the handle of his weapon; there was a little puff of steam, and Fancy Long was gone!

And in her place was one of those writhing, black rope-armed horrors like the one I'd saved Tweel from! I stood there dizzy, watching it die while Tweel trilled and whistled. Finally he touched my arm, pointed at the twisting thing, and said, 'You one—one—two, he one—one—two. Do any of you? He mean you think of something, the beast he know, and you see it! Un chien — a hungry dog, he would see the big bone with meat! Or smell it —not? The bird at nesting season would see its mate, the fox, prowling for its own prey, would see a helpless rabbit!

How does a snake back on earth charm a bird into its very jaws? And aren't there deep-sea fish that lure their victims into their mouths? We're warned now—but henceforth we can't trust even our eyes. You might see me —I might see one of you—and back of it may be nothing but another of those black horrors! I wonder! Perhaps he was thinking of something that couldn't possibly have interested me, and when I started to run, he realized that I saw something different and was warned.

Or perhaps the dream-beast can only project a single vision, and Tweel saw what I saw—or nothing. I couldn't ask him. But it's just another proof that his intelligence is equal to ours or greater. First the pyramid-beast. He hadn't seen one before; he said as much. Yet he recognized it as a dead-alive automaton of silicon. I couldn't pick up a single idea of his and he learned six or seven words of mine.

And do you realize what complex ideas he put over with no more than those six or seven words? The pyramid monster —the dream-beast! In a single phrase he told me that one was a harmless automaton and the other a deadly hypnotist. What about that? Could you have done it knowing only six words of English? Could you go even further, as Tweel did, and tell me that another creature was of a sort of intelligence so different from ours that understanding was impossible—even more impossible than that between Tweel and me?

The point I'm making is that Tweel and his race are worthy of our friendship. Somewhere on Mars—and you'll find I'm right—is a civilization and culture equal to ours, and maybe more than equal. And communication is possible between them and us; Tweel proves that. It may take years of patient trial, for their minds are alien, but less alien than the next minds we encountered—if they are minds.

These creatures are still more alien, less understandable than either and far less comprehensible than Tweel, with whom friendship is possible, and even, by patience and concentration, the exchange of ideas. There was a carpet of that queer walking-grass scampering out of our way, and when we reached the bank, there was a yellow trickle of water flowing. The mound city I'd noticed from the rocket was a mile or so to the right and I was curious enough to want to take a look at it. And by the way, that crystal weapon of Tweel's was an interesting device; I took a look at it after the dream-beast episode.

It fired a little glass splinter, poisoned, I suppose, and I guess it held at least a hundred of 'em to a load. The propellant was steam—just plain steam! You could see the water through the transparent handle and about a gill of another liquid, thick and yellowish. When Tweel squeezed the handle—there was no trigger—a drop of water and a drop of the yellow stuff squirted into the firing chamber, and the water vaporized—pop!

It's not so difficult; I think we could develop the same principle. Concentrated sulfuric acid will heat water almost to boiling, and so will quicklime, and there's potassium and sodium —. It was effective, too, at least against Martian life; I tried it out, aiming at one of the crazy plants, and darned if the plant didn't wither up and fall apart!

That's why I think the glass splinters were poisoned. I pointed to the city and then at the canal, and Tweel said 'No—no—no! I took it to mean that some other race had created the canal system, perhaps Tweel's people. I don't know; maybe there's still another intelligent race on the planet, or a dozen others. Mars is a queer little world. It looked rather like a barrel trotting along on four legs with four other arms or tentacles. It had no head, just body and members and a row of eyes completely around it.

The top end of the barrel-body was a diaphragm stretched as tight as a drumhead, and that was all. It was pushing a little coppery cart and tore right past us like the proverbial bat out of Hell. It didn't even notice us, although I thought the eyes on my side shifted a little as it passed. Same thing—it just scooted past us.

Well, I wasn't going to be ignored by a bunch of barrels playing train, so when the third one approached, I planted myself in the way—ready to jump, of course, if the thing didn't stop. It stopped and set up a sort of drumming from the diaphragm on top. And I held out both hands and said, 'We are friends! It drummed on its diaphragm, and then suddenly boomed out, 'We are v-r-r-riends' and gave its pushcart a vicious poke at me!

I jumped aside, and away it went while I stared dumbly after it. This one didn't pause, but simply drummed out, 'We are v-r-r-riends! How did it learn the phrase? Were all of the creatures in some sort of communication with each other? Were they all parts of some central organism? I don't know, though I think Tweel does. It got to be funny; I never thought to find so many friends on this God-forsaken ball! Finally I made a puzzled gesture to Tweel; I guess he understood, for he said, 'One-one-two—yes!

Well, I was getting used to Tweel's symbolism, and I figured it out this way. Maybe I missed his meaning. Perhaps he meant that their minds were of low degree, able to figure out the simple things. Their pushcarts were full of stones, sand, chunks of rubbery plants, and such rubbish as that. They droned out their friendly greeting, which didn't really sound so friendly, and dashed on. The third one I assumed to be my first acquaintance and I decided to have another chat with him. I stepped into his path again and waited.

I looked at him; four or five of his eyes looked at me. He tried his password again and gave a shove on his cart, but I stood firm. And then the—the dashed creature reached out one of his arms, and two finger-like nippers tweaked my nose! Anyway, I yelled 'Ouch! The creatures were coming and going, paying us not the slightest attention, fetching their loads of rubbish. The road simply dived into an opening, and slanted down like an old mine, and in and out darted the barrel-people, greeting us with their eternal phrase. It didn't look like a flame or torch, you understand, but more like a civilized light, and I thought that I might get some clue as to the creatures' development.

So in I went and Tweel tagged along, not without a few trills and twitters, however. It was electric, beyond doubt. The creatures were fairly civilized, apparently. I turned toward the entrance to leave, and the Devil take me if it wasn't gone! Anyway, I walked back in that direction I thought we'd come, and all I saw was more dimlit corridor. The place was a labyrinth! There was nothing but twisting passages running every way, lit by occasional lights, and now and then a creature running by, sometimes with a pushcart, sometimes without.

Tweel and I had only come a few steps from the entrance. But every move we made after that seemed to get us in deeper. Finally I tried following one of the creatures with an empty cart, thinking that he'd be going out for his rubbish, but he ran around aimlessly, into one passage and out another. When he started dashing around a pillar like one of these Japanese waltzing mice, I gave up, dumped my water tank on the floor, and sat down.

Luke Thompson | Luke’s ENGLISH Podcast | Page 30

I pointed up and he said 'No—no— no! And we couldn't get any help from the natives. They paid no attention at all, except to assure us they were friends —ouch!

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I don't know how many hours or days we wandered around there! I slept twice from sheer exhaustion; Tweel never seemed to need sleep. We tried following only the upward corridors, but they'd run uphill a ways and then curve downwards. The temperature in that damned ant hill was constant; you couldn't tell night from day and after my first sleep I didn't know whether I'd slept one hour or thirteen, so I couldn't tell from my watch whether it was midnight or noon. There were machines running in some of the corridors, but they didn't seem to be doing anything—just wheels turning.

And several times I saw two barrel-beasts with a little one growing between them, joined to both. And finally I discovered what they did with it. I was feeling that we ought to be close to the surface when suddenly the passage debouched into a domed chamber, the only one we'd seen. And man! The wheel ground it with a crunch—sand, stones, plants, all into powder that sifted away somewhere. While we watched, others filed in, repeating the process, and that seemed to be all.

No rhyme nor reason to the whole thing—but that's characteristic of this crazy planet. And there was another fact that's almost too bizarre to believe. I watched him being crushed, too stupefied to make a sound, and a moment later, another followed him! They were perfectly methodical about it, too; one of the cartless creatures took the abandoned pushcart.

There was something beyond the wheel, something shining on a sort of low pedestal. I walked over; there was a little crystal, about the size of an egg, fluorescing to beat Tophet. The light from it stung my hands and face, almost like a static discharge, and then I noticed another funny thing. Remember that wart I had on my left thumb? And my abused nose—say, the pain went out of it like magic! The thing had the property of hard ex-rays or gamma radiations, only more so; it destroyed diseased tissue and left healthy tissue unharmed! We dashed back to the other side of the wheel in time to see one of the pushcarts ground up.

Some suicide had been careless, it seems. A crowd of them advanced toward us; we backed out of what I thought was the passage we'd entered by, and they came rumbling after us, some pushing carts and some not. Crazy brutes! There was a whole chorus of 'We are v-r-r-riends! We backed up the corridor with the barrel-beasts following—about twenty of them.

Queer thing—the ones coming in with loaded carts moved past us inches away without a sign. Suddenly, he snatched out that glowing coal cigar-lighter of his and touched a cartload of plant limbs. The whole load was burning—and the crazy beast pushing it went right along without a change of pace. It created some disturbance among our 'v-v-r-riends,' however—and then I noticed the smoke eddying and swirling past us, and sure enough, there was the entrance! The daylight felt like Heaven, though I saw at first glance that the sun was all but set, and that was bad, since I couldn't live outside my thermo-skin bag in a Martian night—at least, without a fire.

They cornered us in an angle between two mounds, and there we stood. I hadn't fired nor had Tweel; there wasn't any use in irritating the brutes. They stopped a little distance away and began their booming about friendship and ouches. A barrel-brute came out with a pushcart and they all grabbed into it and came out with handfuls of foot-long copper darts —sharp-looking ones—and all of a sudden one sailed past my ear —zing!

And it was shoot or die then. We picked off the ones next to the pushcart and managed to keep the darts at a minimum, but suddenly there was a thunderous booming of 'v-v-r-riends' and 'ouches,' and a whole army of 'em came out of their hole. We were through and I knew it! Then I realized that Tweel wasn't. He could have leaped the mound behind us as easily as not. He was staying for me! I'd liked Tweel from the first, but whether I'd have had gratitude to do what he was doing— suppose I had saved him from the first dream-beast—he'd done as much for me, hadn't he? I grabbed his arm, and said 'Tweel,' and pointed up, and he understood.

He said, 'No—no—no, Tick! I'd be a goner anyway when the sun set, but I couldn't explain that to him. I said, 'Thanks, Tweel. You're a man! A man! There are mighty few men who'd do that. I had given up hope. Then suddenly an angel dropped right down from Heaven in the shape of Putz, with his under-jets blasting the barrels into very small pieces! I let out a yell and dashed for the rocket; Putz opened the door and in I went, laughing and crying and shouting!

It was a moment or so before I remembered Tweel; I looked around in time to see him rising in one of his nosedives over the mound and away. By the time we got the rocket aloft, darkness was down; you know how it comes here—like turning off a light. We sailed out over the desert and put down once or twice. I yelled 'Tweel! We couldn't find him; he could travel like the wind and all I got—or else I imagined it —was a faint trilling and twittering drifting out of the south.

He'd gone, and damn it! I wish—I wish he hadn't! The four men of the Ares were silent—even the sardonic Harrison. At last little Leroy broke the stillness. Too bad you missed that; it might be the cancer cure they've been hunting for a century and a half. How'd you like to spend a winter here? Dick Jarvis, chemist of the party, shivered as he looked up from his notebook. Walking back from a rocket ride is a new sensation to me. They're important if we're to pull this trip out of the red. Remember how the public mobbed the first moon pictures?

Our shots ought to pack 'em to the doors. And the broadcast rights, too; we might show a profit for the Academy. A book, for instance; exploration books are always popular. Martian Deserts —how's that for a title? You'd have to call it 'Love Life of a Martian,' or something like that. Jarvis chuckled. I've learned to appreciate the planet after plowing over this dried-up pill we're on now. He was a good scout. I'd never have survived the dream-beast but for him. And that battle with the pushcart things—I never even had a chance to thank him.

He squinted through the port at the gray gloom of the Mare Cimmerium. Jarvis stared. An engineer would have some chance of getting us there and back if the rocket goes bad on us. The captain nodded toward the stem, whence issued at that moment a medley of blows and guttural expletives.

It's too late for repairs once we cast off. Then he smiled. Call back at half-hour intervals; I'll be listening. He frowned suddenly. He must live off there somewhere, and he's the most important thing we've seen on Mars. Harrison hesitated. There's food and water aboard the auxiliary; you can take a couple of days.

But keep in touch with me, you saps! Jarvis and Leroy went through the airlock out to the gray plain. The thin air, still scarcely warmed by the rising sun, bit flesh and lung like needles, and they gasped with a sense of suffocation. They dropped to a sitting posture, waiting for their bodies, trained by months in acclimatization chambers back on earth, to accommodate themselves to the tenuous air.

Leroy's face, as always, turned a smothered blue, and Jarvis heard his own breath rasping and rattling in his throat. But in five minutes, the discomfort passed; they rose and entered the little auxiliary rocket that rested beside the black hull of the Ares.

James Catches the Tooth Fairy (on Camera)

The under-jets roared out their fiery atomic blast; dirt and bits of shattered biopods spun away in a cloud as the rocket rose. Harrison watched the projectile trail its flaming way into the south, then turned back to his work. It was four days before he saw the rocket again. Just at evening, as the sun dropped behind the horizon with the suddenness of a candle falling into the sea, the auxiliary flashed out of the southern heavens, easing gently down on the flaming wings of the under-jets.

Jarvis and Leroy emerged, passed through the swiftly gathering dusk, and faced him in the light of the Ares. He surveyed the two; Jarvis was tattered and scratched, but apparently in better condition than Leroy, whose dapperness was completely lost. The little biologist was pale as the nearer moon that glowed outside; one arm was bandaged in thermo-skin and his clothes hung in veritable rags.

But it was his eyes that struck Harrison most strangely; to one who lived these many weary days with the diminutive Frenchman, there was something queer about them. They were frightened, plainly enough, and that was odd, since Leroy was no coward or he'd never have been one of the four chosen by the Academy for the first Martian expedition.

But the fear in his eyes was more understandable than that other expression, that queer fixity of gaze like one in a trance, or like a person in an ecstasy. He was yet to discover how right he was. He assumed a gruffness as the weary pair sat down. Need any treatment? Jarvis answered. No danger of infection here, I guess; Leroy says there aren't any microbes on Mars. Your radio reports sounded screwy.

I was getting used to this narrow horizon, so I didn't feel so much like being cooped under a big bowl, but one does keep overestimating distances. Something four miles away looks eight when you're used to terrestrial curvature, and that makes you guess its size just four times too large.

A little hill looks like a mountain until you're almost over it. By the time he understood if he does yet we were past Cimmerium and over that Xanthus, desert, and then we crossed the canal with the mud city and the barrel-shaped citizens and the place where Tweel had shot the dream-beast. And nothing would do for Pierre here but that we put down so he could practice his biology on the remains. So we did. No sign of decay; couldn't be, of course, without bacterial forms of life, and Leroy says that Mars is as sterile as an operating table.

Leroy found a stick and knocked 'em off, and each branch broke away and became a biopod crawling around with the others. So he poked around at the creature, while I looked away from it; even dead, that rope-armed devil gave me the creeps. And then came the surprise; the thing was part plant! Life here never differentiated, he says; everything has both natures in it, even the barrel-creatures—even Tweel! I think he's right, especially when I recall how Tweel rested, sticking his beak in the ground and staying that way all night.

I never saw him eat or drink, either; perhaps his beak was more in the nature of a root, and he got his nourishment that way. Then Leroy had to catch a sample of the walking grass, and we were ready to leave when a parade of the barrel creatures rushed by with their pushcarts. They hadn't forgotten me, either; they all drummed out, 'We are v-r-r-iends—ouch! Leroy wanted to shoot one and cut it up, but I remembered the battle Tweel and I had had with them, and vetoed the idea.

But he did hit on a possible explanation as to what they did with all the rubbish they gathered. If they're part vegetable, you see, that's what they'd want—soil with organic remains in it to make it fertile. That's why they ground up sand and biopods and other growths all together. The suicides jump into the grinder when the mixture has too much sand and gravel; they throw themselves in to adjust the proportions.

What is it like to work at the sawtooth group?

You've got to remember that these creatures can't be judged by earthly standards; they probably don't feel pain, and they haven't got what we'd call individuality. Any intelligence they have is the property of the whole community—like an ant-heap. That's it! Ants are willing to die for their ant-hill; so are these creatures.

It takes some emotion like patriotism to work 'em to the point of dying for their country; these things do it all in the day's work. We sailed over Xanthus, keeping as close to the meridian of the Ares as we could, and pretty soon we crossed the trail of the pyramidbuilder. So we circled back to let Leroy take a look at it, and when we found it, we landed.

The thing had completed just two rows of bricks since Tweel and I left it, and there it was, breathing in silicon and breathing out bricks as if it had eternity to do it in—which it has. Leroy wanted to dissect it with a Boland explosive bullet, but I thought that anything that had lived for ten million years was entitled to the respect due to old age, so I talked him out of it. He peeped into the hole on top of it and nearly got beaned by the arm coming up with a brick, and then he chipped off a few pieces of it, which didn't disturb the creature a bit. He found the place I'd chipped, tried to see if there was any sign of healing, and decided he could tell better in two or three thousand years.

So we took a few shots of it and sailed on. Not a thing disturbed; we picked up my films and tried to decide what next. I wanted to find Tweel if possible; I figured from the fact of his pointing south that he lived somewhere near Thyle. What is important about this young and talented female writer is that she is innovative, down to earth and fertile in expedients.

She falls within the ranks of the new breed of young women born with extra abilities to surmount all sorts of barrier to emerge successful. This means that for somebody to be termed a genius that person must be a workaholic. In this light, Juliette Schlegl Fotsing merits to be mentioned first among women celebrities if not the story of women who young girl look up to as role models will remain unfinished. What is so interesting about Juliette Schlegl Fotsing is that she has extraordinary things in a very common way.

If Mother Teresa became a celebrity it is because she did extraordinary things and Fotsing at her age is not far from Mother Teresa. Meet her for a discussion then you will discover you have met an honest intellectual. The courage and the frankness she expresses tell you that she was naturally born a workaholic.

It is this frankness, hard work and determination that has made her the most admired woman writer among women. She is a lady of a specific class expressionists have opined. Cameroon they say is Africa in miniature and it is indicative that role models are bound to be in Cameroon in all walks of life. What obtains today is that Fotsing is making Cameroonians and Africans proud. If there is any area in Cameroon where the Beijing platform can be assessed, it is the domain of book writing. It was decided that Michael Jonesand I would be driving. As the hover craft hadn't been dfrven before this was to be our first attempt.

All morning and part of the afternoon were spent trying to get the craft in working order. Eventuallythe hover craft staned. Michael went after me and also came back in one piece. Between twenfy and thirtyhover crafts entered with two drivers to each one. In the obstacle course Michael's time placed himnear the middle, but sadlv I came last, although not everyone finished.

We both. The speed trials consisted ofone practice lap followed by four laps. On the practice lap, Michael stalled and was run into byanother competitor. The craft had to be driven back to our 'base' where we raced to mend it. Sadlyathere wasn't enough time before all the heats were over. Prizes were then presented and although wedidn't do very well in the speed trials we di. We all-learnt a lotfrom the weekend and had a great time which made all the hard work worth while. Also thanks to Mr Hilton-Lee who gave invaluable time and help during the lastfew days before the competition.

Sarah Bond-Williams 9HI. M' VLJ. It was decided within the Department to present the work of three students, Lee Hughes and JamesRobinson in the age group and Peter Garrett in the older section. The final judging took place at Nuclear Electric in Gloucester on 28th June. Judging started at 10a. Further to this, Peter's project wn the section and after another two rounds ofjudging actually won the overall title from all the categorywinners. Peters project, which consisted ofa variable speed feed device for a Myford seven series lathe willnow go forward to the national final at the Engineering Council in September.

Needless to say, wewish Peter every success with his project. Evans Head of C. Businesses and Government, it claims to beEurope's biggest. CRESTs main aim is to stimulate and encourage industry linked Science and Technology projectwork by recognising young people's achievements through accreditation which forms a valuableaddition to personal records of achievement. Pupils are able to achieve a Bronze, Silver or Goldaward depending on the complexity and quality of the project presented.

We entered ten students work this year through the Gloucs. Science andTechnology Regional Organisation and pupils were invited to discuss the projects with two localbusinessmen. It was an excellent day for the school with all ten pupils achieving a Silver award, ourhighest number so far. Evans, Head of C. Six pupils had produced G. James now continues onto the National Final held in October of this year and we wish him everysuccess with his proje'ct.

We would also like to thank Chipping Campden Rotar'y Club fororganising this competition which is now in its fourth year. Evans, Head ofC. Chemistry Club Visit Well, it was on a nice hot Thursday that we went lo seek our victory!! The competition we hadbeen working so hard for had finally arrived.

Stanley G. Weinbaum

Hearts lilied with confidence, we piled into the minibus which was a big mistake because we couldn't all fit in. Moorefound out we had no petrol!! So up to the petrol station we went. Laden with money, we raidedthe garage shop of chocolate and sucky sweets to gobble along the way. We started off again andbegan to quieten down. Moore had an idea. This is what she said. Then it had to happen.

All was going well unti l Miss Dutton, who was leading us, got us lost! Someone told me she had a degree in Geography! A gentleman showed us the way and we got 'there at last. We were 15 minutes late but never mind, we were still in one piece. We had gone to13rookes College in Oxford. The building and labs. There was a lot of room for us to Set up. That's when we found out all ofthose tiny but important things that had been forgotten. When all of our groups had set up, the judges started to come around.

There were three judges whoasked some pretty hard questions. Nervous we were, but we kept our cool. After that it was a brealcfor lunch. There was a tuck shop and Ms. Moore and Stu argued about swapping sandwiches!! Moore got a raw deal! I bought myself an ice-cream and went to the lab. We didn't win, but we'll be back and better than before! Never mind, we had fun. We climbed back into the minibus and back to Cllipping Canipden went our motley crew that's Ms. Moore and Miss Dutton. We were treated to an ice-cream but whilst we were by the market hallsucking on our ice creams, guess who came along He smiled, said well doneand told us to enjoy ourselves.

We had a great day and would like to thank Ms. Miss Dutton was in front in the car and Ms. Moore was in the minibus. WithMiss Dutton leading the way, we got lost. On the way a man in a lony drove past us and blew akiss to Ms. Moore and Miss Dutton! When we got there wi:. On the picnic field Ms. Moore argued about swapping a packet of cris,J. Altogether there were 19 of us and we all had a good day out. Seeing as we got back early we wentup the town and bumped into Mr. The walk started just' after 9 a.

Slade and Mr. Skeath leading t. After walking along Back Ends and Littleworth, the route went through the Hon. By this time there was a large gap between the leaders and Mr. Hemingway and Mr. Adams'bringing up the rear'. Wise and Mr. Randall looked after any casualties of the walk. A half hour break waswelcome but it wa5 not long before the school was dropping down through the Broadway woodlandand then along the road pa5t Broadway Golf Club. The road lasted only a mile and then it was down through the wood towards Willersey. By this timesome were flagging but everyone kept going and it was not too long before over people..

There was a gap of about 45 minutesbetween Mr. Slade's arrival and the last few walkers and this time the rest was even more welcome. The last part of the walk was all downhill and for the first time everyone was pleased to see theschool. The day proved to be a huge success mainly due to the weather and the tremendous attitudeof all those taking part. A grand total of money will be announced in the Autumn Term's edition.

Graham Durrant. Back in May, eleven of us went with Mr. We had four days of intense fieldwork study. Aday each on rivers, glaciation, tourism and settlements. The course was really good and has already helped with ourselection of fieldwork titles for next year's projects. TI1e food was excellent and accommodationgood, although reasonably bas;c. Although some of the boys found the walking hard going, the restof us enjoyed our time away.

Thanks to both Mr. Southam and Miss Thompson for organising it and listening to a certain personmoaning. Key points were identified, synonyms suggested and introductionsand conclusions written. Discussion and argument abounded! Students were encouraged to writean answer to the question and Professon Fines used his expenise in 'A' level examining and questionsetting to advise and heip.

Professor Fines received essays from those present which he marked and returned Alison Stratton. Boulogne Day Visit, June 24 th I bought a gr. Jc me suis leve quatre heures et demie du matin. On a mis douze heures environ. Pour Ja premiere fois, je n'ai pas eu ma! C'etait sensass! Lundi nous avons visite 'Futuroscope' le pare Europeande! Nous avons visite une chocolaterie. C'etait tres interessant et delicieux! C'est ma troisieme fois ala farnille Comet et on s'entendbien.

J'ai appris beaucoup. Theyhad come from various primary schools to participate in a day of activities, all concerned with theunderlying themes of Europe and its importance. On arrival, the pupils were divided into 8 groups, each of which represented a different Europeancountry.

A teacher and two sixth form helpers were then assigned to each group. Aftc:r a talk on Europe in general, all tl1e children began their day's project work. Each group hadthe task ofstudying their country's religion, food and culture. A number of children were thenchosen to srudy a little of the country's language and soon they were sounding very convincing!

Towards the end of the day all the pupils began practising for their presentations - which they. They were all very impressive and after speaking to a number of children, Igot the feeling that they all seemed to have enjoyed themselves! Isabelle Mantella L6F Nearly people were involved. On the first Saturday of halfterm, the choir sang at Miss Cregeen's wedding under the direction ofMrs.

This month, a group of musicians played at Bourton on the Hill Church fete which is a regularbooking for our musicians. Apart from public concerts etc. The music department could not do such events were it not for the work of other teachers. Clark runs the choir,. Cunningham the recorder groui: and Mrs. Chatfield organises andadministers the Swing Band. We now have seven instrumental teachers whose work benefits schoollife greatly.

Cowshill Woodwind , Mr. Wells Brass , Mrs. Bass , Mr. Herbert Classical Guitar , Mr. Payton Clarinet and Saxophone and Mr. Ashworth Piano. Sincere thanks are given to them all, plus the many people from all year groupswho give their free time and loyalty to make sure musical events take place. Next term it is hoped to increase the m usical opportunities offered by starting electric guitar andpercussion lessons - which will be taken by a sixth former and past student respectively - both ofwhom are excellent musicians.

John Wateridgc. CCS Swini Band This year the membership of the Band grew, with some accomplished younger musicians joining in, just as we prepared to say farewell to a number of founder members. Once again we played at October Fair, in School concerts and assemblies and at some outside functions including a very happy surprise birthday party fo r the father of one of the Band members.

Sadly, just before Christmas, the Rev. Bum had to give up his duties as conductor due to pressure of work in his parish, but Mrs. Clark ably took over until Mr. Payton took up the baton well, he waves his hands about, actually in the spring. We shall miss the Upper Sixth musicians who have now left school, but still have a strong membership with some promising young players and arc very pleased to have found another excellent drummer.

Many thanks to Mr. Wateridgc, Mrs.

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Clark and Mr. Payton for all their help. There have been lots of outings to the Church and around the school. On one of our first outings we saw a Gold crest, the smallest bird in Europe. We have also seen a wren's nest and a song thrush, who has successfully reared four young. Unfortunately, fo r the first time in ten years, there arc no Spoiled Flycatchers nesting on lop of the Church windows.

On the Church tower there is a resident group of 20 Jackdaws. At school we have done a House Martin watch. In one nest there is a House Sparrow. Sadly the nun1ber of House Martins is getting less. This may be due to disturbance by the building of the new science block. At bird watching club, not only do we see birds, but animals and plants too. Growing at the top of the Church wall is some asparagus, which is unusual. If you'd like to join the club, come to N20 on Wednesday lunchtimes. Three Counties ShowThe whole of Year 9 loadcd on to two buses. Everyone was very excited. We were given about 3 hours to walk round the whole of the show.

There were a lot of veryinteresting stands from various companies, which gave us free badges, pencils and hats etc. We also enjoyed a cup of refreshing real lemonade and plenty of food samples. As well as thesethings, there were also things like a fashion show, a dog show, bungee Jumping and a radiobroadcast that was going out on air. We met a celebrity but this one had four legs, a tail and a verylarge trophy, for this celebrity was none other than Aldaniti, winner of the Grand National wlien hewas ridden by Bob Champion.

He was also making an appearance that day. It was very hot and after all that walking we were very tired when we got back on the buses anddrove back to school.

New Campdonian Summer 1994

A very enjoyable and educational day was had by all. We all split up into groups of mixed sexes of about I0 to do allthe different activities. This included archery, wind-surfing, canoeing, raft building, climbing,abseiling, commando course, assault course and Llain challenge.

On 2 different nights we went outand had a bivi that includes building a shelter made from wood and sleeping in it all night. Some ofus didn't actually get to sleep in the shelter, we died of coldness. There were about I 0 instructors all being great sports towards us, especially the male instructors. Jay God , Blossom and Steve, all the girls can vouch for this. We had a great time of adventures, even the teachers getting stuck in the wooden tunnel on theassault course and Miss Stainer being watered down by all us lot.

On the last night we had a disco and Miss Stainer and Mrs. Lambert joined in making a foot ofthemselves. On a Sunday morning at 9. We kept each other going by singing songs at the top of ourvoices;ABBA songs supplied by courtesy of. Hise Dutton. All other songs supplied by Mr Binley 7FllAt 5pm we sprinted we did honestly! All in all, a really wonderful day out. Larnboum drove and Mr.

Hemingway videoed some fascinating shots of the floor, the sky andMrs. After a brief lunch break westarti;:d work. We were impressed by the huge tunnel boring machine which was for sale, but decided it was fartoo large to go in the minibus! After watching a video on the use and importance of the tunnel, wesaw on T. There was a superb model train lay-out showing the two tenninals and the different kinds of train, but we don't believe that the Channelis inhabited by tropical freshwater fish!