Gulf and Glacier; or, The Percivals in Alaska, Page 2

  CHAPTER II.

  FOREST AND PRAIRIE.

  It was a merry party that assembled in the Windsor Station, Mondayevening. No sooner had they found their places in the "Kamloops" thanout they jumped again, and began promenading up and down the longplatform.

  "Let's see what the names of the other cars are," said Fred; andBess, thereupon, called them out, as they walked beside the train:"'Calgary,' 'Nepigon,' 'Toronto,' 'Missanabie.'"

  "What do they mean?" inquired Kittie.

  "Why, they're names of Alaskan chieftains," replied Randolph.

  "'Kamloops' was the old head one, then," added Tom.

  But Mr. Houghton, who was everywhere at once, superintending theembarkation, caught the words and explained that the names were thoseof cities and towns on the line of the Canadian Pacific.

  "All aboard!" came the now familiar call, and away went the train, outinto the night, bound for the far West.

  The Percivals and their neighbors sang for a while, adding several newcollege songs to their previous repertoire, and then the head of thefamily announced that it was time to retire. The porter, William, hadalready arranged the drawing-room, and amid a chorus of "Good-nights,"Mr. and Mrs. Percival withdrew.

  "Now, William," said Randolph, "make up Number Three and Five for theladies."

  "And Four, for the gentlemen," added the irrepressible Tom.

  Kittie and Bess soon disappeared behind their curtains, and the resthaving followed suit shortly afterward, there was silence--for aboutthree minutes. Then came the sound of a bump, and a delighted chucklefrom Tom, in the upper berth.

  "Coming right up through, Ran?" the girls heard him ask. "I thought thetrain was off the track."

  "You laugh much more, and I'll get up there, somehow"--

  "Boys, boys," came Fred Seacomb's voice. "Don't quarrel."

  "Say, Fred" (from Tom), "lend me your eyeglasses, will you? I've lostmy pillow."

  At this point Miss Adelaide became fearfully thirsty, and putting herhead out between her curtains, timidly called across to her brother to"please get her a drink of water."

  The Reverend Rossiter, who was just settling himself for a nap, dressedagain, and staggered off down the car, returning with the welcomedraught.

  "Anybody else want any?" he asked good-naturedly.

  Everybody was thirsty, and the clergyman's ministrations with his cupsof cold water did not cease until he had made several journeys to theice tank.

  During the night the heavy train rumbled steadily along over twohundred and fifty miles of iron rails, and when Randolph awoke nextmorning, he found they were at Chalk River, a small town on thefrontiers of the great forest wilderness of inner Canada, where afifteen-minute stop was made.

  Breakfast was served in the dining-car. Our friends secured seats closetogether, and made a jolly meal of it.

  "Curious," observed Fred, "to eat a breakfast twenty miles long!"

  "That suits me!" laughed Tom, helping himself to griddle cakes.

  "But it's so pretty outside that I can't stop to eat," exclaimedAdelaide, with a nice little flush in her cheeks.

  She had lived a very quiet, home-keeping life, the girls found.Everything was new and strange and wonderful to her.

  "I should say somebody had been pretty careless with their camp-fires,"Randolph remarked, as they passed mile after mile of burned timberland, an hour or two later.

  Mr. Houghton told them that thousands upon thousands of acres of forestnear the railroad had been ruined in this way.

  "Why," asked Randolph, "how long has this railroad been built?"

  Mr. Houghton thereupon gave them a brief account of the CanadianPacific, one of the marvels of modern engineering.

  "A railway from Canada to the Pacific," he said, "laid all the wayon British soil, was long the dream of public-spirited Canadians andEnglishmen. On the confederation of the British Provinces in 1867, itbecame a real necessity."

  "I don't see why," put in Tom.

  "The Queen must have a means of transporting troops, arms andammunition from the home stores to the extremities of her dominion.Suppose her Pacific cities, existing and to be built, should beattacked by a foreign power. She can now throw fifty thousand menacross the Continent in four days; or in less than a fortnight fromLiverpool."

  "I should think it must have been a tough job to get through thiswilderness," said Randolph, glancing out of the window at the wilddistrict through which they were passing.

  "Much of the route lay through unexplored country. All about LakeSuperior the engineers found a vast rocky region which opposed themat every step. You'll see for yourselves to-morrow. Beyond Red Riverfor a thousand miles stretched a great plain, known only to the Indianand fur trader; then came the mountains, range after range, in closesuccession, and all unexplored."

  "When did they really get to work?" asked Fred Seacomb.

  "In 1875. The Government undertook the enterprise, and afterward handedit over for completion, to a private company. The explorations"--

  At this point in the conductor's story, the train began to slow up.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed, rising from his seat and glancing at his watch,"this is North Bay, on Lake Nipissing. We stop here half an hour."

  "Come on!" shouted Tom, as the train came to a standstill, and down herushed toward the shore of the lake, only a few rods distant. "Now,Captain Bess, let's see what you can do for a fire. I'll have one goingbefore you get your match lighted."

  Bessie evidently accepted the challenge on the spot, for although shesaid nothing, she began hunting about for kindling at once. There hadbeen a light shower the night before, and every thing was damp.

  Tom made a great fuss, scrambling about for chips and twigs, which hethrew down in a heap on the pebbly beach, kneeling beside them, andhastily pulling a match from his pocket. It looked as though his sisterwas beaten.

  "Just wait a bit," remarked Mr. Percival, who was watching the contestwith interest. Several passengers from the other cars also gatheredabout the fire-builders, applauding each in turn.

  Tom's first match spluttered, and went out.

  "Ho! she's given up," he cried, as Bess walked away from the group.

  But the girl knew what she was about. She stooped down beside a largelog which had long ago drifted ashore. From its upper surface shestripped some thin shreds of birch bark, and beneath it she found ahandful of chips, perfectly dry.

  Back she came, and down she went on the pebbles, at a little distancefrom her brother.

  "Hurry up, Tom!" shouted Randolph.

  For Tom's fire did not seem to progress favorably. Several matches hadalready been blown out by the fresh lake breeze, and the few twigs thathad at last caught, now smoked feebly.

  "This is the meanest wood!" labored Tom. "Wet's water." And he essayedanother match.

  All this time Bessie had worked industriously, saying nothing. She hadbroken and whittled her chips into small pieces, and now pulled offher pretty yachting cap, holding it closely over the bark while shestruck her first match. Protected by her dress, and gathering couragein the shelter of the cap, it flared up cheerfully, catching the crispedges of the bark in grand style.

  Down goes the cap, the girl's brown hair escaping in little curlytresses that toss in the wind.

  "I've almost got it!" shouts Tom, blowing at his smoking heap with allhis might.

  "Go in, old fellow!"

  "Hurry, Bess!"

  The passengers added their cheers and laughter to the cries of theothers.

  "There!" said Bess triumphantly, leaning back from her fire.

  For fire it was, truly, with the red flames dancing upward gleefullythrough the twigs, and cracking in a manner that said plainly they hadcome to stay.

  Tom generously joined in the applause that followed, and heaped all hishoarded fuel on his sister's fire, nearly extinguishing it in his zeal.

  "Camp Birch!" said Mr. Percival, naming it, as they named all theircamp-fires.

  A few minutes lat
er the coals were scattered, for safety; and theengine giving its preconcerted call, the passengers hurried on boardonce more.

  "Now," said Selborne, "let's hear the rest of the railroad story, Mr.Houghton."

  The latter gentleman, by no means averse to the task, accordinglycontinued.

  "The surveys for the road made known the character of the country ithad to traverse. In the wilderness about Superior, were found forestsof pine and other timber, together with valuable farming land, andmineral deposits of immense value. The prairies beyond Winnipeg provedwonderfully promising for settlers; the mountains were seamed withcoal, and sparkling with gold."

  Mr. Houghton's face became even more radiant than usual, as he told ofthe wonderful riches of British Columbia.

  "In 1881 the company contracted with the Government to finish the roadwithin ten years--for which undertaking they received twenty-fivemillion dollars, twenty-five million acres of agricultural land, andthe railroad itself when complete."

  "Whew!" whistled Tom. "Say, Ran, let's go to railroading."

  "The end of the third year," continued the genial conductor, "foundthem at the summit of the Rocky Mountains; the fourth in the Selkirks,a thousand miles beyond Winnipeg. Sometimes they advanced five or sixmiles a day, armies of men attacking the mountains with thousands oftons of dynamite. On a certain wet morning--the seventh of November,1885--the last spike was driven on the main line of the CanadianPacific Railway."

  Mr. Houghton's eloquent peroration was followed by a round of applause,and all hands turned to the car windows once more, with new interest inthis great triumph of mind over the forces of nature.

  The boys were informed by Mr. Houghton in conclusion, that thecountry all around the lake was one of the greatest hunting districtson the continent. The forest abounded, he said, in moose, bear andcaribou--all of which was extremely tantalizing to these younggentlemen, though the gentler members of the party took little interestin the conductor's description of the sport.

  We must pass rapidly over the next day or two. Soon after breakfast onWednesday morning, our travelers found themselves on the shores ofLake Superior, and all day the train kept close beside it, the roadcurving, rising, descending, around great promontories of red rock,at the base of high cliffs, and across broad tributaries that camesweeping down from far Northern wastes. At times there was a heavy fog,through which the passengers could see the slow waves breaking on therocks below. Then it would lift, showing new beauties close at hand,and bright, wooded islands in the misty distance. Beside the track grewstrange flowers, and against the northern sky was outlined the notchededge of the boundless evergreen forest that stretched away to theArctic solitudes.

  At the little settlement of Peninsula, Selborne called the rest to seea fine, sturdy dog with the Esquimaux showing plainly in his pointednose and ears, and thick soft fur.

  "Doesn't he look like the pictures in Dr. Kane?" whispered Pet, leaningover Kittie's shoulder.

  Jackfish proved to be a picturesque hamlet of log huts, clustering on arocky point of land that jutted into the lake.

  The train stopped at Schreiber long enough to allow the party todash up into the town, and make a laughable variety of purchases atthe principal store. Postal cards, buttons, candy and fancy pinsdisappeared in the pockets of the tourists, to the delight of theproprietor, who had not had such a run of custom for many a long day.Captain Bess bought several yards of the brightest scarlet ribbon shecould find--for what purpose it will be seen hereafter.

  Near the station at Nepigon was seen the first encampment ofIndians--Chippewas they were; half-amused, half-indignant at thecurious crowd they attracted.

  Port Arthur was the terminus of the Eastern Division of the "C. P. R.,"a thousand miles from Montreal, and watches were all set back one hourto meet "Central Time." Little girls crowded up to the passengers,selling milk in broken mugs, from small pails with which they dartedhither and thither along the platform. I should hardly venture to sayhow many mugfuls the boys bought and drank, in the kindness of theirhearts.

  That evening a number of new friends from the "Missanabie" and"Calgary" came back to the "Kamloops," by special invitation, andthe united chorus sang over and over all the songs they did--and didnot--know. "Little Annie Rooney," then a reigning favorite in the East,was the most popular number in the programme.

  I wish I could show the gay little party to you, as I see them now,photographed so clearly upon my memory: the older people in the rear,looking on with smiles, and occasionally joining in a familiar chorus;Kittie and Pet, their faces all aglow; Randolph, Fred and Mr. Selbornesinging sturdily along, or pausing when they did not know the tune;Tom, singing at the top of his voice, whether he knew the tune or not,and beating time with a vigor that would have put Carl Zerrahn toshame--ah! how it all comes before me as I write; with one dear, kindlyface that was merry and thoughtful by turns, but always tender andloving and good, as the songs rang out; the face I shall see no moreuntil I reach the end of the longest journey of all--the journey ofLife!

  At breakfast on the following morning, Tom, who had taken upon himselfto provide the girls with nosegays on the whole trip, marched into thedining-car with a neat little breast-knot of "squirrel-tail grass"which he had picked at Rat Portage, for each young lady. It was verypretty, but before long the objectionable feature of the grass asserteditself; that is, its clinging qualities, which made it impossible forthe wearers to wholly rid themselves of the tiny barbed spires for twodays afterward.

  Winnipeg was reached at noon. Nearly all the passengers "went ashore,"and the empty cars were trundled away for a thorough cleaning, Englishfashion.

  In twos and threes our friends wandered off through this strange youngcity, the capital of Manitoba. Twenty years ago its population numberedone hundred; now it passes thirty thousand!

  In the midst of all the progress and modern ideas of bustling Winnipeg,it was curious to notice many rude carts drawn by oxen, which wereharnessed like horses.

  At the station the "newsboys" were little girls, who plied their trademodestly and successfully.

  Mr. Percival took his daughters and Pet to drive for an hour throughthe city and its suburbs. The only drawback to their enjoyment was theintense heat, and the abundance of grasshoppers who would get tangledup in Bessie's hair, much to that young lady's displeasure.

  "Clouds and clouds of them," she commented indignantly; "and theWinnipeggers don't seem to mind them a bit!"

  Next morning Tom was the first "on deck," as usual, and out of thecars at the first stop, which was made to water the engine. Prairie,prairie, prairie, as far as the eye could reach. Tom gathered handfulsof flowers and threw them into expectant laps, only to rush out againand gather more. The short grass was starred with blossoms of everycolor. Harebells, like those on Mt. Willard, grew in abundance besidethe track. Then there were queer, scarlet "painted cups," noddingyellow ox-eyes, asters, dandelions, and others.

  What is that little creature, that looks something like a very largegray squirrel with no tail? Why, a "gopher," to be sure; an animalresembling a prairie-dog, only smaller. They live in burrows all alongthese sandy embankments. See that little fellow! He sits up on his hindlegs and hops along like a diminutive kangaroo, pulling down heads ofgrass with his tiny forepaws, and nibbling the seeds.

  On and on, over the rolling prairie, rattled the hot, dusty train.They were in Indian country now, and at every station a dozen or moredark-faced Crees crouched on the platform, offering buffalo horns forsale.

  And this reminds me that I have not mentioned one very importantportion of Tom's outfit. It was a fine No. 4 Kodak, of which he wasvery proud, and which he "snapped" mercilessly at all sorts of personsand things on the journey. There were other amateur photographers onthe Excursion--a dozen or more in all--and great was the good-naturedrivalry in securing good views. Indians were bribed, soldiers flatteredand precipices scaled in this fascinating pursuit. As to the hundredtravelers, the photographers snapped at them and one another withh
ardly an apology; and as the subject usually looked up and smiledbroadly at the critical moment, the general result must have been acollection of portraits of the most marvelously and uniformly merrycompany that ever boarded a C. P. R. train, or kodaked a Siwash canoe.

  Each wielder of this terrible weapon had a different way of holding thecamera and doing the deed. Mr. Selborne focused from under his rightarm, that embraced the instrument firmly. Pet, who had a little No.1, always winked hard, and occasionally jumped when she "pressed thebutton"; thereby, as she afterward discovered, giving her charactersa peculiar misty effect, which she declared was enchanting. Oneindefatigable lady from Kalamazoo invariably held her kodak out infront of her at arms-length, and took aim over the top of it beforefiring; a proceeding which never failed to disconcert and terrify thesubject beyond description.

  At a settlement called Swift Current, Tom undertook to photograph anold Cree squaw, who stalked away indignantly around the corner of thefreight house. Away went crafty Thomas in the opposite direction,meeting the squaw just half-way around the building. Tom tried topurchase a sitting with a silver quarter, but the wrathful Indian womanpoured out a torrent of Cree invective, and hooked at him with a pairof buffalo horns she held in her hands. Finally, he turned his back toher, and holding the camera backward under his arm, pressed the buttonand so obtained one of his best negatives on the trip.

  It must be confessed that he felt rather shabby in thus procuring herportrait against her will; and to atone for his conduct, Bessie kneltbeside two little Indian girls and tied bright red ribbons on theirarms, to their intense delight.

  At Moose-Jaw (which Mr. Houghton said was an abridgment of the Indian name meaning,"The-creek-where-the-white-man-mended-the-cart-with-a-moose's-jaw-bone"),the travelers were shown a villainous-looking Sioux, who was one ofSitting Bull's band that massacred General Custer and his troops a fewyears before. The Indians in that whole section of Canada are kept inorder by mounted police--fine-looking fellows, sauntering about thestation platforms with whip and spur, and by no means averse to havingtheir pictures taken, Pet found.

  All this is very pleasant, but as the day wears on, the green hillsand flowery meadow-land give place to scorched, parching, alkalidesert, stretching away in dry, tawny billows as far as the eye canreach. Here and there is a lake--no, a pool of dry salt, like thewhite ghost of a lake. The air in the cars becomes insufferably hot.Look at the thermometer, where the sun does not shine, and the airblows in through the open window. It marks full 105 deg.. Mr. Selbornewins popularity by contracting for a large pitcher of iced lemonade,which he passes through the car. Dust and cinders pour in at doors andwindows with the hot air. Waves of heat rise from the shriveled grass.Will night ever come?

  Yes, it comes at last, as God's good gifts always come, to refresh andsweeten our lives. The sky flushes with sunset light. Shadows creepup from the east; a cool breeze touches the fevered faces. Night,beautiful, restful, kindly night, spreads its wings over the wearytravelers, and, still flying onward through the darkness, they sleeppeacefully and dream of the dear New England hills and of home.