Gulf and Glacier; or, The Percivals in Alaska

by Madeline Leslie

  CHAPTER XV.

  WHITE LILIES.

  "Home again, from a foreign shore!" sang the Percival Glee Club, asthe mountain wagon rattled down a long hill, across a dusty plain, andwhirled up to the front door of a great hotel. It wasn't home, really,but only the Mammoth Hot Springs, which they had left nearly a weekbefore.

  Half of the Excursion had taken the circuit through the Park in theopposite direction, and now that all were united once more, many werethe handshakings, and loud and eager the exchange of experiences.

  "Did you take dinner at Larry's?"

  "I almost tumbled into the 'Morning Glory'"--

  "Oh! what a funny hotel that was at the Upper Basin--walls ofpasteboard between the rooms, and all peeling off, you know"--

  "Weren't you awfully cold?"

  "How many trout did you catch, Doctor?"

  "My! wasn't Mary's Hill steep? We got out and walked. The horses justwent up hand over hand, as if 'twas a ladder"--

  "Did you see a bear?" This last from Tom, who became the center of aknot of eager questioners, and assumed airs of importance accordingly.

  The attractions of the Mammoth Springs, marvelous though they were,were rather slighted by the tourists, who were sated with "formations"and boiling pools. That afternoon the train bore them over the branchroad to Livingston, where fine furs were purchased by several parties,this little frontier town being a regular emporium for such articles.

  At nightfall they had a jolly supper in the car, and afterward madetheir Pullman ring with "The Soldier's Farewell" and--well--"A. R.!"

  All the next day they rode at thirty-five miles an hour through the"Bad Lands" and across North Dakota, reaching Minneapolis the followingmorning.

  "I tell you, it's good to see green grass again, after thosescorched-up prairies!" exclaimed Tom; and the rest echoed his words.For weeks not a drop of rain had fallen in the Northwest, and our NewEnglanders had longed for a sight of the fresh verdure of their ownhomeland.

  There was plenty of sightseeing in Minneapolis to crowd the few hoursallowed there. The younger Percivals, in particular, rushed furiouslyabout the city, visited the Falls of Minnehaha, "which were extremelyinteresting," Fred Seacomb remarked, "except that there were no fallsthere"--only a narrow rivulet trickling over some mossy rocks in apark; and climbed (by elevator) to the top of a twelve-story buildingon the roof of which was a flourishing garden, as well as an elegantrestaurant. Later in the day they hurriedly inspected one of the great"Pillsbury" mills, which turn out seven thousand barrels of flour a day.

  "I like this better than even the Falls in the Grand Canon," whisperedBess to Kittie, as they watched the flour pouring down through theboxes in a beautiful white flood. "There it was a great Power, youknow; as if you were somehow seeing the world made; but here iswhere He makes answers for prayers for daily bread--just think, seventhousand people a day getting a whole barrel apiece, somewhere!"

  I am glad Mr. Selborne happened to hear that last sentence. He waslearning to know the little Captain better and better every day; and heunderstood what she meant, perhaps even better than bright, saucy Petdid.

  "It is pleasant to remember, Miss Bessie," he said, taking up theconversation very simply, "that the power and the giving are notseparate, but each a part of the great, lovely Plan that guides theworld's living. 'He watereth the hills,' you know, 'from His chambers,'and the flood that roared over the brink of that precipice is sure tofall somewhere on the earth, at some time, in gentle rain."

  "I know," said Bess, catching her breath a little, as she has a prettyway of doing when she is deeply moved; "and there was the blade ofgrass!"

  She might have said "is," for don't I know that that self-same bladewas safely pressed in her little Testament, in the steamer trunk thatshe had shared with Kittie throughout the journey?

  They "finished" Minneapolis and its sturdy rival St. Paul, and hurriedon to Chicago. Several in the original hundred of the Excursion hadleft them, and strangers had taken their places. It began to seem likebreaking up in earnest.

  There was one thing that disturbed Randolph; namely, that he had beenunable to fulfill a laughing request made by Pet at almost the outsetof the journey. He had competed with Tom in securing wild flowers forthe girls, and, it must be confessed, the finest specimens had somehowfound their way into Miss Pet's lap. One variety had followed anotherduring the passage by rail, across New England and Canada, until Pethad cried out, "You've given me everything!"

  "Not every kind," he replied, breathing hard after a run he had justmade for some great golden daisies. "Isn't there some special floweryou want, that you haven't had?"

  "Well, let me see--a water lily!" said the girl merrily, choosing themost unlikely flower she could think of at the moment.

  Randolph had laughed, too, but had resolved in his inmost heart toprocure just that particular white blossom, if it could be had forlove, muscle or money. But no lilies could be found. All throughManitoba, Assiniboia and Alberta he had looked in vain. Alaska yieldedfir and spruce in abundance, but no water lilies. Nor was he moresuccessful during the homeward-bound trip, across the States. Petsaid nothing more about it--indeed, I think she forgot her carelesssuggestion almost the moment it was made; but Randolph felt himself puton his mettle, and failure stared him in the face.

  No, I am not writing a "love story," unless you grant that all truestories are that, in which pure, sweet young lives are thrown together,and drawn to one another by finest and frankest sympathy, looking aheadno farther than the sunset of that day or the sunrise of the next.

  What might come in the future, these honest, joyous young peopledid not try to fathom. Perhaps for some of them the sacredness of alife-long companionship was waiting--who could tell? but now they justtook the sweetness and comradery of To-day, and were satisfied.

  As for Randolph's failure to procure the lily, more of that by and by.

  For there was one marvel, familiar to some, but new to most of theparty, yet to come--the Falls of Niagara.

  Chicago, with its never-ceasing stir of business activity, its broadstreets, its huge "Auditorium" building, twenty stories high, its artgalleries and its good-natured Western hurry and hospitality, was leftbehind, and one misty morning in early September the Excursion traindeposited its passengers at the Niagara depot, from which they werewhirled round to the Cataract House for breakfast.

  "Tom hates to waste his time eating in the vicinity of Niagara Falls,"said Fred at the table, "but I am glad to see that he is going throughthe form, at any rate."

  A glance at the latter's heaped-up plate was convincing.

  "Certainly a splendid imitation of a hungry boy," remarked Kittie."Take another biscuit, won't you, Tommy?"

  But when at last they did enter Prospect Park, and huddled together atthe brink of the mighty American Falls, there were no more jests. Allthe world seemed sweeping onward and over, into that white uproar. Thesolid rock beneath them trembled in the thunderous fall of many waters.

  Some of the party walked over the little rustic bridge to Goat Island,and out to the bit of rock where Terrapin Tower once stood. But it wasall too terrible to invite a long stay. Glad they were to reach thequiet of the grove again, where moss and furrowed bark and waving ferntold their simple story of peace, and the sparrow's twitter was heardagainst the deep undertone of the Fall.

  In the afternoon half a dozen of the bolder spirits went down theInclined Plane to the shore below the Falls, and embarked on the_Maid of the Mist_. They had to encase themselves in rubber coats andtarpaulin hats, while the little boat steamed up into the verge ofthe boiling caldron until its awe-struck passengers were deafened anddrenched by the columns of rolling spray from the cataract.

  Evening came, and for the last time the Percivals, with their specialfriends, gathered in the car for a final "concert." Nearly one half ofthe Excursion party had left them at Niagara, waving handkerchiefs andsinging, "Should auld acquaintance be forgot?"

  Mr. Rossiter and his sister wer
e to reach their journey's end at alittle town in Western Massachusetts, and would leave the train in theearly morning, while their comrades were still asleep. Altogether,despite the anticipation of getting home once more, it was a sadevening, as "good-by" evenings must always be.

  Next morning all was eagerness and bustle, for when breakfast was overthe train was within twenty miles of Boston.

  Alaskan paddles and totem poles were lashed together, and the sharpnoses and bright eyes of stuffed foxes from Mandan peered from theirpaper wrappings as their owners prepared for the last disembarkation.

  Near historic Concord the train stopped for a local freight to pull outof the way. Randolph carelessly strolled out to the car platform, andcast his eye along a little stream which was crossed by the track atthat point. Something made him start suddenly and beckon to a group ofboys who were idling near.

  "A silver dollar for the boy that brings me a pond lily before thetrain starts!" he cried, pointing to the river.

  How those boys did scatter, some up stream, some down! One brightlittle fellow, who had just divested himself for a bath, plunged in andswam lustily for the prize. Another waded in, waist-deep, regardless ofclothes. Half a dozen more threw themselves on to a rude raft, capsizedit, and scrambling on board again, poled it toward the white beauties,floating serenely on the dark waters of the Assabet.

  Randolph stood waiting eagerly, with the dollar in his hand, expectingevery moment to hear the signal-whistle for starting. A group ofworkmen engaged in repairing the bridge left off working and cheeredthe boys on, laughing, and shouting to the little fellows.

  "Go it, Dick! Now, Billy, there's a big one in front of you--no, toyour right, to your right! Hurry, Pat, you'll get it! Good for you!"

  "Off brakes!" rang out the whistle sharply. The train started. Fourboys scrambled, panting, up the steep, sandy bank. Randolph jumped onthe lowest step of the car and stretched out his hand.

  "Here they are, Mister!" and four snowy, perfumed blossoms were thrustby grimy little fingers into his own.

  "Catch!" he shouted, throwing out four bright silver quarters for whichhe had hastily changed the dollar. "Thank you, boys. Good-by!" and thetrain rolled on.

  Randolph entered the car, his eyes shining. Evidently no one within hadwitnessed this little episode.

  "Almost home," he said, coming up behind Pet. "Too bad I couldn't"--

  "Oh! that lily," laughed the girl. "Well, Randolph, perhaps it will doyou good to fail just once. It's a sort of discipline, you know."

  "I'm afraid I shall have to get my discipline some other way," saidRandolph demurely; and he deposited the lilies in the lap of astonishedPet.

  Just what she saw in those exquisite, fragrant things, all drippingfrom the cool depths from which they had come to greet her, I cannotsay. She looked her delight at Randolph, and then buried the prettypink of her own cheeks in the white petals. I believe she did not eventhank the giver; but he was satisfied.

  Twenty minutes later the train thundered into the Fitchburg depot inBoston, and the long, ten-thousand mile journey was at an end.