Girl Scouts in the Rockies Part 9

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Jule, tell me about that bird swinging over your head"]

It was during one of these short rests which had been caused by a crested bird of wonderful hue and unfamiliar form, that Joan and Julie, with a camera in hand, pushed a way through the bushes, the better to follow the bird's movements.

"Joan, you sit down there on that fallen pine and write down notes as I call them off, and I will climb up on top of that huge boulder and get a snapshot at him as he swings from that bough," said Julie, as she began climbing the rock mentioned.

Once she gained the top, she called back, "Of all the surprises! On the other side of this boulder is a steep descent that drops down to a dark pool. Now who would ever have dreamed there was such a pool behind this rock!"

"Don't bother about pools or precipices now, Julie, but tell me about that bird, swinging right over your head. He'll fly away, if you don't 'make hay'!" laughed Joan, waiting with pencil suspended over the pad of paper.

The rest of the party had heard Julie's exclamation, and were urging their horses through the thick forest, nearer the two scouts. Tally jumped from his animal and came in the direction of the boulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the bird they were talking about.

"Jo, I really believe it is a young Rocky Mountain jay--the kind Gilly described to us. He is hopping into the higher branches now, and I can hardly see him," said Julie.

"Dear me, Julie! If only we could swear that we got a snapshot and description of the jay from actually watching him, what a fine thing it would be when we get home!" sighed Joan.

"Wait--I'll get out on the far end of this immense rock and try to get a full view of him," said Julie, moving across the top of the stone to the outer verge of it.

Suddenly the boulder began settling slowly down towards the pool. The soil underneath it had all been washed out by torrential rains, so that it barely hung in position when Julie climbed upon it. Now that she added her weight to its outer side, it began rolling--turning over and over in its heavy descent.

"Oh, oh! Save me, somebody! I'll be crushed to powder!" screamed Julie, who could not jump from that great height into the jungle, nor could she maintain a footing without doing the liveliest dance of her life.

It was well that the boulder was so heavy, and the pathway it rolled down so soft as to make it sink into the soil and grip a _digging_ hold, as it turned and turned. Had the ground been rocky or the boulder smaller, it would have simply hurled itself into the water, carrying Julie with it.

Now, however, she danced and kept stepping like a trained circus animal does on a barrel to keep it rolling, while Joan cried fearfully, and Tally rushed through the bushes to gain the bottom of the gully. Julie had ceased screaming the moment she saw she was to be catapulted to an unforeseen doom, and now kept her wits about her to plan an escape.

She saw that the rock would settle down in the pool at about the same speed it took in rolling, and then she must be all prepared to spring off from its side, far out into the water, or be sucked underneath when it went down. If the pool was shallow, she would be forced to slide off at the moment the boulder struck and would be left standing up in the water. She must wait to determine the best chance to take.

The time it took from the first starting of the rock down the grade to its striking the water was but a fraction of the time it takes to tell. Suddenly the huge boulder plunged into the quiet-looking pool, churning up the water to a froth, and instantly causing a "tidal wave"

to raise the pool far beyond its customary water line and flow up the banks. The water, which had hitherto reflected every leaf and blade hanging over its surface, was so very deep that the monolith sank into its secret heart and was completely submerged.

As the rock sank, Julie sprang, taking her chances in striking something in the pool. But she escaped accident, and swam out of the whirling waters almost before the boulder had disappeared. Tally reached the pool as she jumped, and now flung himself in to help rescue her. She was equal to the test, however, and came up on land, dripping, but exultant and breathless from the dance and swim.

Tally helped her up the deep gully the rock had gouged out in its downward roll; and at the top where she had left Joan, there now stood waiting to embrace her, the entire party of riders. When all crying and hugging was ended, Julie laughed and said:

"Folks, give me a boulder-ride in the Rockies, every time, instead of an ordinary toboggan! Even snowshoes and skis are tame in comparison."

They laughed because they were so relieved at Julie's escape, but the Captain exchanged glances with Mr. Gilroy, and both shook their heads in despair of ever taming such a wild creature.

"In future, Julie, leave a Rocky Mountain jay where it hides, and study the colored prints shown in the bird book," advised Mr. Vernon, who had felt both for himself and his wife the severe nervous strain while the incident was being enacted.

"Oh, Uncle, half the fun of scouting in the Rockies comes from just these experiences. Just think of all we can talk about this winter, when we are hibernating at home!" exclaimed Julie, ready in spirit, at least, for another joy-ride.

They now resumed the trip that had been so unexpectedly interrupted, and came to an elevation in the trail. From this point they had a glorious view of the surrounding peaks in the park. Tally pointed out Long's Peak, which towered over their heads, and Mt. Meeker alongside it, which appeared almost as high. Mt. Washington and Storm Peak were so closely allied to the first two heights that they looked like four points of the one mountain.

Mr. Gilroy waved his hand to the northwest of Long's Peak, saying, "All that region is called Glacier Gorge, where we are bound for.

There are concentrated the enormous gorges, cliffs, and other glaciated freaks caused by cataclysms that occurred aeons ago. In my opinion, there is no lake, waterfall, or other beauty of the Alps that can compare to this Glacier Gorge, and I have seen them all."

"If we are so near by, why can't we visit them all?" asked Joan.

Mrs. Vernon took fright, "_Never_--with the responsibility for you girls on my hands!"

"But, Verny, if we slip, we won't be on your _hands_,--it will be a glaciated scout on an ice-floe," laughed Julie.

Mr. Gilroy laughed. "And they'll be safer in glacier fields where they know there is great danger if they are careless, than beside quiet little pools, upon a rock that looks as solid as the planet itself."

Mrs. Vernon now turned beseeching eyes upon her husband. "Dear, you will persuade Gilly not to lead us into such places?"

"Oh, but Verny!" interpolated Julie. "Do let us go to see at least _one_ glacier!"

"How can you, Julie! When _you_ are the one always getting into trouble!" returned the Captain, wonderingly.

"Don't I always manage to get out of trouble again without causing any fatality--only amus.e.m.e.nt for the Troop?"

They all admitted that this was true, and finally the Captain was coaxed to listen to the argument in favor of visiting the glaciers.

"I haven't the slightest idea of riding past these glaciers and leaving Gilroy to explore them alone," remarked Mr. Vernon.

"If we agree to tie ourselves to your ap.r.o.n-strings, Verny, will you feel resigned to our going?" asked Julie, meekly.

"If five scouts dangle from my ap.r.o.n-strings, how can I scramble for myself?" laughed the Captain; but the girls knew she was weakening in her former refusal.

With wise looks exchanged between scouts and the two men, the subject was dropped for the time being. So they descended the height where they had obtained such a fine view of the peaks, and rode along the trail that was so heavily screened by forest trees as to cast a gloaming underneath them, even in the brightest sunshine.

"Gilly, how came these vast mountains here?" asked Judith.

"Yes, Gilly, why are they not scattered impartially over the land?"

added one of the other scouts.

"While we are traveling along a good trail, let me tell you what I have gathered from scientific books on the subject," returned Mr.

Gilroy.

"It is evident that the Rockies were the first points of land to lift a head above the sea of water when the American Continent was born. As often happens in the families of mankind, where the youngest-born embraces all the points of beauty and abilities that are manifested in individual allotments to all other members of the same family, so it is with Nature's mountain-children.

"The Rockies, being the youngest born of mountain ranges of the earth, inherited, as it were, the combined beauty and strength and characteristics that were the best in all the others. But there was no jealousy on the part of the older mountains of earth, and it is doubtful if any one of them even knew of this new-comer to the family group. Each had all it could do with its own affairs, in those by-gone cycles.

"Of Earth's large family of mountains, the first-born to lift a head from sleep on the bosom of the 'mighty waters' were the British Isles.

They were not high or mighty in geography, but they were destined to raise the highest and mightiest race of people on earth.

"Then the Norseland awoke, and yawned so widely, that the pinnacles of its jagged sh.o.r.e-lines instantly molded themselves into barriers to protect the land from the inundation of the sea. Then while this awakening took place, the marvelous Antilles sat up from the cradle of the ocean and cried to Mother Nature to be lifted out of their bed.

And Nature, who abhors a vacuum, gave her eager help to South America.

"Having given birth to these fine prominences, Nature seemed disinclined to cease from her creative activity. She believed it best to finish the allotted number of children, and then raise them all together. So the mountains of Labrador appeared, closely followed by the Atlantic Coast mountains.

"Then something happened in the bowels of the earth-planet that caused it to swallow so much salt-water from the seas that had covered its surface, that the great ranges of the Rockies stood up.

"Aeons pa.s.sed during this great upheaval, and aeons more pa.s.sed before islands dotted the 'face of the waters' and G.o.d said 'Let there be'

and there was!

"It is said that the tremendous struggle in the womb of Mother Earth to give birth to the Rockies was Nature's hardest labor. As we gaze on the result of the mighty upheaval that has given us these wonderful mountains, does not your imagination paint 'cause and effect' better than mere words ever can?"