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The Science Fiction Fan, v. 4, issue 5, whole no. 41, December 1939
Page 19
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FAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 "That's something I don't believe anyone fully realizes until they visit the parts of the old west that remain almost the same as they were in the days of the buffalo." OH! Excuse me, dear reader, I almost forgot in the excitement to tell you that I came out to visit Dad in hopes of getting a new plot for a story I was trying to write for a contest in a science fiction magazine. I am quite a fan of science fiction, you know. I read every copy that comes out with the money my father gives me. Though I am only 11, my English teacher says I might make a very food writer. My father wrote me of some very interesting caves that were mysterious so here I am. Mr. Daugherty, a science fictionist from Los Angeles is writing the other part of the story for me but I put in this part, but I'll let him tell you the rest on paper as I tell him the story. (Daugherty's note: "Egad! Shall I let him live) We continued on through the escampment until we came to a large open arena where there were several magnificent bucks in ceremonial attire doing some type of dance to the beat of a tom-tom that was very well handled by an Important looking fellow with a beautiful headdress of eagle feathers. For some reason this fellow held my attention for he was more savage looking than any of the other Indians I had seen. To look at him was like gazing into the past at a ferocious Sioux that was ready to lift my scalp at any moment. After several moments had passed he arose and joined the other Indians at a small pit where they were removing live rattlesnakes from their enclosure and putting them in their mouths. I watched that gruesome sight for several minutes until they were finished. Then to my amazement and fright I saw the buck who had done the
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FAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 "That's something I don't believe anyone fully realizes until they visit the parts of the old west that remain almost the same as they were in the days of the buffalo." OH! Excuse me, dear reader, I almost forgot in the excitement to tell you that I came out to visit Dad in hopes of getting a new plot for a story I was trying to write for a contest in a science fiction magazine. I am quite a fan of science fiction, you know. I read every copy that comes out with the money my father gives me. Though I am only 11, my English teacher says I might make a very food writer. My father wrote me of some very interesting caves that were mysterious so here I am. Mr. Daugherty, a science fictionist from Los Angeles is writing the other part of the story for me but I put in this part, but I'll let him tell you the rest on paper as I tell him the story. (Daugherty's note: "Egad! Shall I let him live) We continued on through the escampment until we came to a large open arena where there were several magnificent bucks in ceremonial attire doing some type of dance to the beat of a tom-tom that was very well handled by an Important looking fellow with a beautiful headdress of eagle feathers. For some reason this fellow held my attention for he was more savage looking than any of the other Indians I had seen. To look at him was like gazing into the past at a ferocious Sioux that was ready to lift my scalp at any moment. After several moments had passed he arose and joined the other Indians at a small pit where they were removing live rattlesnakes from their enclosure and putting them in their mouths. I watched that gruesome sight for several minutes until they were finished. Then to my amazement and fright I saw the buck who had done the
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