Glen of the High North Part 2

After breakfast the next morning he went out on deck, and found the girl already there comfortably seated in a large steamer chair. She had evidently been reading, but the book was now lying open upon her lap, and her hands were clasped behind her head. Reynolds caught the gleam of a jewel on one of her fingers, and he wondered if it was an engagement ring she was wearing. Her eyes were looking dreamily out across the water, away to a great fog-bank hanging and drifting over the face of the deep. Reynolds, too, looked, and the sight held him spellbound. The ma.s.s of fog slowly rose and rolled across the newly-bathed sun. Then it began to dissolve, and dim forms of trees and islands made their appearance, growing more distinct moment by moment. The scene fascinated him. It was truly a fairy world upon which he was looking.

And as he looked, his eyes rested upon a dark speck just beneath the overhanging fog. For a few minutes it made no impression upon his wandering mind. But slowly he began to realize that the object was in motion, and moving toward the steamer. Then he saw something dark being waved as if to attract attention. He was all alert now, feeling sure that someone was hailing the steamer. In a few minutes she would be past, when it would be too late to be of any a.s.sistance.

Turning almost instinctively toward the pilot-house, Reynolds' eyes fell upon the captain, who was again talking to the girl. Only for an instant did he hesitate, and then walking rapidly along the deck, he reached the captain's side and touched him lightly upon the arm.

"Excuse me, sir," he began, as the officer wheeled suddenly around.

"Someone seems to be signaling to you over there, just where that fog-bank is lifting," and he pointed with his finger.

The captain and the girl both turned, and their eyes scanned the watery expanse.

"Can you see anything, Glen?" the captain asked. "My eyes must be failing me."

"I do now," was the reply. "Over there to the left," and she motioned with her hand. "I see it quite plainly. It is a boat of some kind with people in it, and they are waving to us."

"So it is!" the captain exclaimed. "Who can it be? However, we shall soon find out."

He hurried away, and soon a long raucous blast ripped the air. Then the steamer swerved to the right and made for the small craft which was now plainly visible. Many of the pa.s.sengers were already crowding the rail, all greatly interested in this new diversion.

Reynolds stepped back and gave his place to another. He could watch the approaching boat just as well here, and at the same time study to a better advantage the girl who was standing close to the rail. He had accomplished something, anyway, which was worth a great deal to him.

He had heard her speak and learned her name. He liked "Glen," and it seemed to suit her. But Glen what? He longed to know that, too. Her voice was soft and musical. It appealed to him. Yes, everything seemed to be in harmony, he mused. Name, voice, dress, and manner, all suited the girl admirably. It was a happy combination.

From where he was standing he could watch her un.o.bserved. He could see the side of her face nearest to him, and he noted how flushed it was with excitement. She was keenly interested in the approaching boat, and her eyes followed it most intently.

The steamer had already slowed down, and its movement now was scarcely perceptible. Reynolds looked at the small approaching craft, and to his surprise he saw that it was a large canoe, being paddled by four stalwart Indians. There were several white men on board, although he could not distinguish their faces. Who could they be, and where had they come from? he wondered. A man standing nearby asked the same question, though no one seemed to be able to give a satisfactory answer.

By this time the canoe was so near the steamer that from his position Reynolds could see nothing more owing to the men crowding the rail. He glanced toward the girl just as she turned suddenly away from the side of the steamer and walked rapidly across the deck. She seemed much agitated, and the flush had fled her face, leaving it very white. All this Reynolds briefly noted, and when she had disappeared through a door leading into the observation room, he stood wrapped in thought, wondering as to the cause of the remarkable change that had so suddenly taken place. Was there some mystery connected with her life, and had she recognized someone in the canoe she did not wish to meet? He determined to learn what he could about the picked-up men, and to keep his eyes and ears open for further developments.

CHAPTER III

A BIG BLAZIN' LAUGH

"Fine sight that, sir."

Reynolds turned sharply at these words, and saw the old man with the long beard and flowing hair standing at his left. Although he himself was almost six feet in height, he seemed small by the side of this stranger, who was looking calmly out over the water toward the fog-bank, which had now lifted and was slowly dissolving.

"Ye don't see the likes of that often," he continued, "an' it ain't everyone who kin read its meanin', either."

"What do you see there?" Reynolds asked, more interested in hearing the man's deliberate drawl than the meaning of the fog-bank.

"Wall, it seems to me that a fog-bank hasn't a ghost of a chance fer life when the sun hits it good an' hard."

"That one hasn't, anyway," Reynolds replied, as he watched the cloud gradually thinning and drifting away.

"It's the same with all clouds, sir, an' it makes no difference whether they're hangin' over the water or over one's life. They're bound to disappear when the sun gits after 'em."

"Do you think so?"

"I sartinly do. Why, there isn't a cloud but'll gather up its skirts an' run when a good big blazin' laugh gits after it. An' that's what we want in this world to-day; more cheerfulness, more of the joy of life."

"Have you tried it?"

"Y'bet I have, an' it's allus worked like a charm. I could tell ye of many a squabble that's been settled by the means of a smilin' face an'

a good hearty laugh. There's nuthin' like it."

"You're an optimist, I see," and Reynolds smiled for the first time in many a day. He could not help it, for this stranger radiated a stimulating influence of cheerfulness and goodwill.

"I try to be, sir, an' when I see a fog-bank hoverin' over people like that one did out yonder a little while ago, I consider it my duty to act like the sun an' drive it away. Then, there's good feelin' all around, 'specially among the ones who were under the cloud."

"I imagine it is that way with those men who have just been picked up.

They must feel happy over the lifting of the fog at the right moment."

"That's jist what I mean. It meant much to them."

"Do you know who they are?"

"Miners, no doubt, who wish to go north. They've been prospecting mebbe, on some of the islands along the coast, an' started out to hail a pa.s.sin' steamer. They do it at times."

"And the steamers always pick them up?"

"Sure; they wouldn't go by without takin' 'em on board, no matter who they are. It's the great Brotherhood of man, ye see, back of it all, an' ye'll find that spirit stronger the farther north ye go. It's different here from what it is in the big cities, an' the more ye preach of that the better."

"Preach! What do you mean?" Reynolds asked in amazement.

"You be one of them missionary chaps, ain't ye?"

Reynolds laughed. "What makes you think so?"

"Dunno, 'cept yer solemncoly face, an' the way yer dressed.

Missionaries ginerally come north lookin' about as you do, to turn the sinner from the error of his way, an' to convart the heathen Injun.

They're not overly pop'lar up thar."

"Why not?"

"Oh, they've too high an' mighty notions about the way men should live; that's the trouble."

"And so you think they should make themselves popular with the men, eh?

In what way?"

"By bein' one of 'em, an' not bein' too hard on what they do."

"Do you think that their great Master ever said that they would be popular, and that they were to please all men?" Reynolds defensively asked.

"I dunno. Guess I can't recall anything He ever said about the matter," and the old man scratched his head in perplexity.

"Didn't He tell His first disciples that they would be hated of all men for His name's sake when He sent them forth to do His work?"