Gulf and Glacier; or, The Percivals in Alaska. Willis Boyd Allen

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СКАЧАТЬ stretched its tiny crosses above our heads, we stopped, and with a tiny, crackling fire beside us, watched the snowy heights, and the hastening river. The harebells, frailest and gentlest of flowers, were there too, to remind us that the same Hand which which —

      “Set on high the firmament,

      Planets on their courses guided,

      Alps from Alps asunder rent,”

      was his who said to the storm, “Peace, be still!” – who “considered the lilies,” and who took little children in his arms and blessed them.

      The waters of the large river which ran past us were turbid with soil from their far-off source; but a small stream entered the larger one near our little fir-shaded hearthstone, and this new-comer was fresh from the snowy hill-tops, “clear as crystal.” As far down as we could see, the rivulet never lost its brightness, but swept onward with the larger stream, sweetening and purifying it, yet “unspotted,” like a true and simple life in God’s world.

      There, I won’t tire you any more to-night, dear mother. How it would add to our pleasure if you were here! Adelaide gains strength every day, the wholesome, hearty companionship of these young people doing her quite as much good, I think, as the novelty and grandeur of the scenes in which she finds herself. As for me, I ought to preach better sermons all my life, for this trip. This afternoon while I was sitting on the rounded piazza of the hotel, looking out upon the valley and snowy mountain-tops, a bit of blank verse came into my mind. I’m going to write it out for you. A fellow can send his mother poetry (?) which he wouldn’t show any one else, can’t he?

      Within thy holy temple have I strayed,

      E’en as a weary child, who from the heat

      And noonday glare hath timid refuge sought

      In some cathedral’s vast and shadowy nave,

      And trembles, awestruck, crouching in his rags

      Where high up reared a mighty pillar stands.

      Mine eyes I lift unto the hills, from whence

      Cometh my help. The murmuring firs stretch forth

      Their myriad tiny crosses o’er my head;

      Deep rolls an organ peal of thunder down

      The echoing vale, while clouds of incense float

      Before the great white altar set on high.

      So lift my heart, O God! and purify

      Its thought, that when I walk once more

      Thy minister amid the hurrying throng,

      One ray of sunlight from these golden days,

      One jewel from the mountain’s regal brow,

      One cup of water from these springs of life,

      As tokens of thy beauty, I may bear

      To little ones who toil and long for rest.

Affectionately, your son,Rossiter.

      P. S. I wish you knew that little “Captain Bess.”

      She is one of the freshest, sweetest, most unselfish girls I ever met. Hardly an hour passes when she is not doing something for another’s comfort – adjusting old ladies’ shawls, reading aloud, holding a tired child, or something of the sort. In fact, she’s the most like you, mother, of anybody I ever met!

      CHAPTER IV.

      THE GLACIER AND THE BEAR

      Thus far the trip had been free from special adventure beyond the ordinary happenings in the course of an extraordinary journey. But on the day following the departure from Banff, one or two incidents occurred to break the monotony. In the first place, there was Tom’s affair with the bear. But I must retrace my steps slightly, before introducing Bruin.

      The Excursion left Banff on the ninth morning from Boston. The road now lay through a wilderness of mighty hills. Onward and upward labored the train, following the curves of mountain streams, rattling in and out of tunnels, and creeping cautiously over high trestles that creaked ominously beneath the heavy cars.

      An observation car had been added, and here the Percivals gathered, defying cinders and wintry air. Far above the ravine through which the stubborn Canadian Pacific had pushed its way, they caught glimpses of snow-banks and glaciers, which sent foaming torrents down the mountain-side to join the Kicking-Horse River.

      Late in the afternoon they whirled around the last dizzy curve, plunged into a snow-shed and out again, and halted for the night beside a picturesque little hotel in the very heart of the Selkirks.

      Most of the party, including all the Percivals except Tom, at once started along a forest path for new wonders that were said to lie beyond. Adelaide Selborne was too tired to go, and her brother, having seen her comfortably resting in a delightful little room in the hotel, hurried off to join the rest.

      Bessie, who had lingered behind a moment to pick a handful of starry wild flowers, heard his steps and turned to greet him with a bright look of welcome. “I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said, in her frank way. “You see, Randolph has gone ahead with Pet Sibley, and Kittie is with Fred, so I was kind of rear-guard, all alone.”

      “What kind of a flower is that?” he asked.

      Bess did not know, nor did her companion.

      “It seems so strange to find real wild wild-flowers,” she exclaimed. “The little home violets and mayflowers seem as tame as possible, compared.”

      “This forest has never been cut into,” observed Rossiter, as they sauntered along the narrow path. The lofty trees, unscarred by axe or fire, towered high above them; beside the path waved tall ferns, starred here and there with boughs of the white blossoms the little Captain had been picking. An unseen stream, hastening downward from far-away rocky heights, called softly through the dim aisles.

      After a mile or two of this thick wood, they emerged upon rough, open ground, over which they hurried, crossing a rude bridge which spanned the torrent, and – there was the Great Glacier of the Selkirks!

      Bessie caught her breath, in the wonder and grandeur of it.

      For in comparison with this mighty stream of ice, the glaciers of Europe are but frozen rivulets. All the Swiss glaciers combined would not reach the bulk of this monster, which covers thirty-eight square miles of mountain-side with a moving mass of ice five hundred feet thick. It is fitly guarded by the solitary peak of “Sir Donald,” whose top is lost in clouds eight thousand feet above the valley.

      They moved forward at length, climbing to the edge of the glacier, and even mounting upon its wrinkled back.

      The advanced division of the party were already quite at home with the big glacier, and sang their gay songs as merrily as in the cosey “Kamloops.” Fred and Randolph caught tin cupfuls of water from an icy rill, and passed it to the rest.

      “I wish,” said Bessie, “that I could run up to that next corner. The view would be splendid.”

      Kittie and the rest were just starting downward. Mr. Selborne heard the Captain’s remark, and instantly was at her side.

      “Come on,” he said. “We can do it and catch up with the rest before they reach the hotel.”

      Bessie, remembering her experience on Mount Washington the year before, hesitated. But the opportunity was too tempting.

      “I’ll go,” she said hastily, “if you’ll СКАЧАТЬ