Six SHSAT Questions

Excerpt from “The Spirit of the Herd”

by Dallas Lore Sharp

In this excerpt, published in 1914, author and professor Dallas Lore Sharp describes a summer cattle roundup in Oregon. The heat and dust had been relentless for three days. The cowboys were exhausted, and the cattle were restless. The ranch boss, Wade, had led the drive to a watering place, only to find it empty.

Along with the wagon had come the fresh horses—one of them being Peroxide Jim, a supple, powerful, clean-limbed buckskin, a horse, I think, that had as fine and intelligent an animal-face as any creature I ever saw. Wade had been saving this horse for emergency work. And why should he not have been saved fresh for just such a need as this? Are there not superior horses as well as superior men—a Peroxide Jim to complement a Wade?

The horse knew the cattle business and knew his rider perfectly; and though there was nothing like sentiment about the boss of the P Ranch riders, his faith in Peroxide Jim was complete. . . .

The desert, where the herd was camped, was one of the highest of a series of tablelands, or benches; it lay as level as a floor, rimmed by sheer rock, from which there was a drop to the bench of sage below. The herd when overtaken by the dusk had been headed for a pass descending to the next lower bench, but was now halted within a mile of the rim rock on the east, where there was a perpendicular fall of about three hundred feet. . . .

In the taut silence of the stirless desert night, with the tension of the herd at the snapping-point, any quick, unwonted sight or sound would stampede them. The sneezing of a horse, the flare of a match, would be enough to send the whole four thousand headlong—blind, frenzied, trampling—till spent and scattered over the plain.

And so, as he rode, Wade began to sing. The rider ahead of him took up the air and passed it on until, above the stepping stir of the hoofs rose the faint voices of the men, and all the herd was bound about by the slow plaintive measures of some old song. It was not to soothe their savage breasts that the riders sang to the cattle, but rather to preempt the dreaded silence, to relieve the tension, and so to prevent the shock of any sudden startling noise.

So they sang and rode and the night wore on to one o’clock, when Wade, coming up on the rim-rock side, felt a cool breeze fan his face, and caught a breath of fresh, moist wind with the taste of water in it.

He checked his horse instantly, listening as the wind swept past him over the cattle. But they must already have smelled it, for they had ceased their milling, the whole herd standing motionless, the indistinct forms close to him in the dark showing their bald faces lifted to drink the sweet wet breath that came over the rim. Then they started on again, but faster, and with a rumbling now from their hoarse throats that tightened Wade’s grip on the reins.

The sound seemed to come out of the earth, a low, rumbling mumble, as dark as the night and as wide as the plain, a thick, inarticulate bellow that stood every rider stiff in his stirrups. . . .

Then the breeze caught the dust and carried it back from the gray-coated, ghostly shapes, and Wade saw that the animals were still moving in a circle. He must keep them going. He touched his horse to ride on with them, when across the black sky flashed a vivid streak of lightning.

There was a snort from the steers, a quick clap of horns and hoofs from far within the herd, a tremor of the plain, a roar, a surging mass—and Wade was riding the flank of a wild stampede. Before him, behind him, beside him, pressing hard upon his horse, galloped the frenzied steers, and beyond them a multitude borne on, and bearing him on, by the heave of the galloping herd.

Wade was riding for his life. He knew it. His horse knew it. He was riding to turn the herd, too, back from the rim, as the horse also knew. The cattle were after water—water-mad—ready to go over the precipice to get it, carrying horse and rider with them. Wade was the only rider between the herd and the rim. It was black as death. He could see nothing in the sage, could scarcely discern the pounding, panting shadows at his side. He knew that he was being borne toward the rim, how fast he could not tell, but he knew by the swish of the brush against his tapaderos and the plunging of the horse that the ground was growing stonier, that they were nearing the rocks.

To outrun the herd was his only chance for life. If he could come up with the leaders he might not only escape, but even stand a chance of heading them off upon the plain and saving the herd. There were cattle still ahead of him; how many, what part of them all, he could not make out in the dark. But the horse knew. The reins hung on his straight neck, where his rider had dropped them, as, yelling and firing over the wild herd, he had given this horse the race to win, to lose.

They were riding the rim. Close on their left bore down the flank of the herd, and on their right, under their very feet, was a precipice, so close that they felt its blackness—its three hundred feet of fall! . . .

. . . Then Wade found himself racing neck and neck with a big white steer, which the horse, with marvelous instinct, seemed to pick out from a bunch, and to cling to, forcing him gradually ahead, till, cutting him free from the bunch entirely, he bore him off into the swishing sage.

The steers coming on close behind followed their leader, and in, after them, swung others. The tide was turning from the rim. More and more were veering, and within a short time the whole herd, bearing off from the cliffs, was pounding over the open plains.

Whose race was it? It was Peroxide Jim’s, according to Wade, for not by word or by touch of hand or knee had the horse been directed in the run. From the flash of the lightning the horse had taken the bit, had covered an indescribably perilous path at top speed, had outrun the herd and turned it from the edge of the rim rock, without a false step or a tremor of fear.

From “The Spirit of the Herd” by Dallas Lore Sharp—Public Domain

tablelands: plateaus, flat areas of land sharply elevated from the surrounding area
tapaderos: leather covers for stirrups

Letter from Brooklyn

by Jacob Scheier

I can already see how this will end.
How I will grow tired of the bridge’s
steep incline, and the absent-minded tourists
wandering into the bicycle path.
The weather will turn cold.
But that all happens later.
For now it is the early edge of fall,
leaves green still while the air narrows,
is slightly crisp, almost grazing
the hair of my arm like a passing stranger,
as though the air has been forced into intimacy
by the brevity of daylight.
But when it starts darkening at 4,
this closeness, I know, will be a felt distance,
like someone drawing your attention
to their lack of intimacy.
These days I am still walking at a cathedral pace
beneath the branches bending across avenues,
brownstones like rows of lived-in chapels,
like a pop-up picture book I could have had as a child,
but didn’t. How Brooklyn makes me nostalgic
for the moment I am walking inside of.
These late afternoons filled
with a loneliness that makes me feel
distinctly myself, and an awareness
of how rare that is.

“Letter from Brooklyn” from LETTER FROM BROOKLYN: POEMS by Jacob Scheier, published by ECW Press. Copyright © 2013 by Jacob Scheier All rights reserved.

brevity: briefness
cathedral: meditative
chapels: private places of prayer or worship
nostalgic: yearning for the past

Excerpt from “How Exercise Could Help You Learn a New Language”

by Gretchen Reynolds

Many scientists suspect that exercise alters the biology of the brain in ways that make it more malleable and receptive to new information, a process that scientists refer to as plasticity.

But many questions have remained unanswered about movement and learning, including whether exercise is most beneficial before, during or after instruction and how much and what types of exercise might be best.

So for a new study, which was published recently in PLOS One, researchers in China and Italy decided to home in on language learning and the adult brain.

Language learning is interesting. As young children, almost all of us picked up our first language easily. We didn’t have to be formally taught; we simply absorbed words and concepts.

But by early adulthood, the brain generally begins to lose some of its innate language capability. It displays less plasticity in areas of the brain related to language. As a result, for most of us, it becomes harder to learn a second language after childhood.

To see what effects exercise might have on this process, the researchers first recruited 40 college-age Chinese men and women who were trying to learn English. The students had some facility with this second language but were far from proficient.

The researchers then divided the students into two groups. Those in one group would continue to learn English as they had before, primarily while seated in rote vocabulary-memorization sessions.

The others would supplement these sessions with exercise.

Specifically, the students would ride exercise bikes at a gentle pace (about 60 percent of their maximum aerobic capacity) beginning 20 minutes before the start of the lessons and continuing throughout the 15 minutes or so of instruction.

Both groups learned their new vocabulary by watching words projected onto large screens, together with comparable pictures, such as “apple” and a Red Delicious. They were shown 40 words per session, with the sequence repeated several times.

Afterward, the students all rested briefly and then completed a vocabulary quiz, using computer keys to note as quickly as possible whether a word was with its correct picture. They also responded to sentences using the new words, marking whether the sentences were accurate or, in the case of “The apple is a dentist,” nonsensical. Most linguists¹ feel that understanding sentences shows greater mastery of a new language than does simple vocabulary improvement.

The students completed eight vocabulary sessions over the course of two months.

And at the end of each lesson, the students who had ridden bikes performed better on the subsequent vocabulary tests than did the students who sat still.

They also became more proficient at recognizing proper sentences than the sedentary students, although that difference did not emerge until after several weeks of instruction.

Perhaps most interesting, the gains in vocabulary and comprehension lingered longest for the cyclists. When the researchers asked the students to return to the lab for a final round of testing a month after the lessons—without practicing in the meantime—the cyclists remembered words and understood them in sentences more accurately than did the students who had not moved.

“The results suggest that physical activity during learning improves that learning,” says Simone Sulpizio, a professor of psychology and linguistics at the University Vita-Salute San Raffaele in Milan, Italy, and a study co-author.

These improvements extend beyond simply aiding in memorization, she added. The exercise also deepened language learners’ grasp of how to use their newly acquired words.

This study involved college students performing relatively light exercise, though, and cannot tell us whether other people completing other types of exercise would achieve the same results.

It also offers no clues about what is occurring inside the brain that might be contributing to the benefits of the exercise. But many past studies have shown that exercise prompts the release of multiple neurochemicals in the brain that increase the number of new brain cells and the connections between neurons, Dr. Sulpizio says. These effects improve the brain’s plasticity and augment the ability to learn.

From a real-world standpoint, the study’s implications might seem at first to be impractical. Few classrooms are equipped with stationary bicycles. But specialized equipment is probably unnecessary, Dr. Sulpizio says.

“We are not suggesting that schools or teachers buy lots of bicycles,” she says. “A simpler take-home message may be that instruction should be flanked by physical activity.”

From “How Exercise Could Help You Learn a New Language” by Gretchen Reynolds from THE NEW YORK TIMES, August 16, 2017. Copyright © 2017 The New York Times Company.

¹linguists: scientists who study language