Girl Scouts in the Rockies
- -
- 100%
- +
“But the next day, as I still thrilled with the memory of the immense slide, I heard a rumbling sound just above where we were. Tally screamed, ‘Look out. She come!’
“I saw snow sliding across a shallow depression above, and heading straight for me. Tally had managed to scramble quickly out of the way, and I worked those snowshoes faster than anything I ever did before or since – believe me!
“Before I could reach a safety zone, however, I was caught in the outer edge of the avalanche and whirled along for some distance. By dint of working those same snowshoes I managed to gain the extreme edge, where I flung myself recklessly out into space, not knowing where I might land.
“Fortunately, I was left sprawling with legs and arms about a pine, while the slide rioted on without me. I lifted my bruised head because I wished to see all I could of it, and I was able to witness the havoc it wrought in its descent. When it reached the bottom of the mountain it collided with a rocky wall on an opposite cliff. The first meeting of the snow with this powerful resistance curled it backward upon itself, while the rest of the slide piled up on top, and quickly filled the narrow valley with its débris.
“Had I not been so near the line of least suction, or had I been in the middle of that fearful slide, nothing could have saved me. I should have been buried under tons of snow even if I survived a death-dealing blow from a rock or tree during the descent.
“Now, Julie, do you still care to experience a hand-to-hand battle with a slide?”
“If it wasn’t for all such thrilling adventures, Gilly, you wouldn’t be so entertaining. When one is in the Rockies, one looks for experiences that go with the Rockies,” declared the girl.
Mr. Gilroy shook his head as if to say Julie was hopeless. But Joan laughingly remarked, “A snowslide wouldn’t be any wilder than Julie’s visit to old man Good Arrow in his castle.”
“And about as frightful as the pit he would have thrown Julie into,” added Mr. Gilroy.
“Joking aside, Scouts. We expect to meet with various thrilling adventures during our sojourn in the Rockies, and I don’t believe one takes such dire risks if one is careful,” said Julie.
“Maybe not, but you are not careful. In fact, you take ‘dire risks’ every time,” retorted Mr. Gilroy.
Nothing was said for a few minutes, then Tally spoke, “Mees’r Gilloy – him come to Boulder, pooty quick!”
“Ha, that’s good news!” remarked Mr. Vernon.
“Yes, and our little scheme worked fine, eh, Uncle,” laughed Mr. Gilroy. But all the coaxings from the scouts could not make either man say what that scheme had been.
At Boulder the party gladly left the wagon for Tally to deliver to his brother, and the horses were turned over to the man they were intended for. While Tally was waiting for his brother’s arrival, Mr. Gilroy found he could conduct his party through the Boulder Canyon, known as “The Switzerland Trail.”
So they got on a train and rode through a canyon which, as the name suggested, was everywhere lined with great boulders of all shapes and sizes. Here a roaring torrent would cleave a way down to the bottom of the canyon, while there an abrupt wall of rock defied the elements and all things else to maintain its stand.
At Tungsten, the end of the trail, the scouts visited the district where this metal is mined. When they were through with the visit, Mr. Gilroy told the girls that Boulder County’s record of income from tungsten alone was more than five million dollars a year.
The State University at Boulder was visited upon the return of the scout tourists to that city. Here the girls learned that the campus covered over sixty acres of ground, and that the university boasted of twenty-two splendidly equipped buildings, equal to any in the world. It also had a library of its own that numbered about eighty-three thousand volumes. The value of the buildings approximated one million, seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
“It doesn’t seem possible, when you look around at what this place is – or seems to be!” exclaimed Ruth.
“Which goes to prove that appearances are not necessarily harmonious with facts,” returned Mrs. Vernon, smilingly.
When they met Tally, who was waiting at the place appointed, Julie asked, “Where do we go from here, Gilly?”
“We’ll follow Tally, as he seems to have a plan back of that grin,” returned Mr. Gilroy.
Every one turned to look at Tally, who in turn seemed quite taken by surprise, as he said, “Tally no plan!”
“Ah, Tally! Will you never understand my winks!” sighed Mr. Gilroy. “I wanted you to help me out while I evaded an issue with these dreadful Scouts.”
“Um, Tally glad to if Mees’r Gilloy onny tell him.”
The others laughed at this guileless confession, and Mr. Gilroy shook his head despairingly. Then he said, “Well, I suppose I must ’fess up.’”
“Of course, if you have any hidden schemes back in your brain,” Julie retorted.
“This is it! Tally heard of a number of excellent horses to be had from a rancher near Loveland, so rather than wait about here for him to go and bring them back, we will go on to Loveland by train, and start from that place to ride through the Rocky Mountain National Park.
“You see, my first plan is entirely upset by a prairie schooner, an Indian, and a horse-dealer. I had expected to ride from Denver on horses secured there, and go to Ward. Then on across the Divide and so on to Hot Sulphur Springs and Steamboat Springs. But it seems the itinerary revised itself, – and it may turn out to be a good improvement on mine,” said Mr. Gilroy.
“How far is the Continental Divide from Loveland?” asked Joan.
“That all depends on how far we want it to be,” laughed Mr. Vernon. “One can get there in no time, or one can stop at all the attractive points along the trail and spend weeks reaching the Divide.”
Then Mr. Gilroy added, “I propose leaving Loveland by an old Indian Trail Tally knows of, and thus reach Estes Park. We will take in Long’s Peak on the way, and then ride on to the Divide, stopping to climb any peak we think interesting, or visit any park or moraine along the route.”
So the party reached Loveland, where Tally bargained shrewdly with a rancher for the horses and two mules for the tourists. Naturally the rancher wished to sell his horses outright, but Tally convinced him how much better an arrangement it would be for all concerned to rent the animals for the season, leaving a cash security deposited with a bank to cover the loss in case any or all of the horses were lost or injured on the way. If all were returned to the rancher in good condition, Mr. Gilroy would receive his deposit back.
This entire section of Colorado was created a National Park by Congress, in January, 1915. And Estes Park is to the National Park what a beauty patch is to the face of a belle – the point of attraction that focuses the eye of the admirer.
This National Park offers plenty of room for more than a million campers, without one being so near his neighbor as to give a sense of encroachment. For those Americans who love the untrammeled life of the woods, this park provides wonderful trout streams; flora and fauna most surprising and beautiful; and not only plains, valleys, ravines, and mountain peaks as diverting places to visit, but lakes, rivers, falls, and every ideal spot of Nature that one craves to see.
In this National Park you may come unexpectedly upon a caribou grazing on the luscious grass, or in spring you may find a doting she-bear, leading her cubs to feast on the tender green shoots. But let your boots make the slightest noise, both these wild creatures will disappear so suddenly that you will rub your eyes to make sure you are awake. Other furred and feathered inhabitants of the forests will sit, screened behind the foliage and fern, laughing silently at your amateur ways of discovering them.
You may not be woodsman enough ever to spy them, but they are about, just the same. Furtive eyes will watch your every movement as you ride along the trail. The partridge that has effaced himself by merging his mottled feathers with the shaggy bark where he is hidden, saw every least thing you did. The wild hare, covered with tall grasses and fern, flicked his long ears in fun, when your awkward steps passed within an inch of his nose, and you never dreamed of his sitting there! The squirrels and woodchucks wondered at your clumsy ways in the wilderness. Did they not leap and run joyously without a sound? And you only have two feet to manage while they have four! In short, every denizen of the forest about you will know as if the message were flashed by wire, that a mere MAN is on his way through their domains.
The Park realm stretches along on the mountain top at an altitude of nine thousand feet, and more. And it embraces the most rugged section of the Continental Divide. Long’s Peak rises about fourteen thousand two hundred feet high, and towers above the park plateau. It looks down upon ten or more other peaks that are only thirteen thousand feet high, and many more of twelve thousand feet altitude. Long’s Peak is rocky and not easy to climb, but perfectly safe for man or beast. It is also free from the treacherous ice and snow that so often causes slides. Hence one can reach its summit, where a view of over a hundred miles of country is to be had. The Park is about twenty-five miles long and from ten to twenty miles wide.
This, then, was the wonderful place the scouts of Dandelion Troop were to visit and glory in.
CHAPTER FIVE – HITTING THE TRAIL
The horses Tally had contracted for were all the tourists could desire. They were sure-footed and experienced mountain climbers; they could go without food or water for a longer period than ordinary animals, as they had been so accustomed. They were not heavy, but wiry and muscular, – in short, the genuine ranch horse of the Rocky Mountains. The two pack mules, named Frolic and Jolt, were sleepy-looking beasts, but it was only in appearance. Once they started on the trail they proved splendid carriers, even though they took life their own way.
The little cavalcade left the hotel at Loveland the center of curious eyes, for the summer tourists stopping at the inn had heard of the well-known geologist and the Troop of Scouts. As few members of the interesting organization of Girl Scouts had ever been through the Rockies, this Troop created quite a diversion for visitors.
Tally soon turned from the beaten track that most tourists take in going to Estes Park, and led his party to the old abandoned Indian Trail. Finally they came to a cool shadowy thread of a path that could be distinguished only because the trees were not closely interlocked each with the others.
At this hour the forest was like the translucence of the sea, bathing everything in the cool green light of its depths; and the exhilarating effect was the same as the salt tang of an ocean bath.
“Makes one feel as if one were in church at Vesper time,” softly declared Julie, glancing at the arched aisles they were riding through.
“Was ever cathedral so solemn, so beautiful, as this of Nature?” replied Mrs. Vernon, in a reverent tone.
Then for another long period all was silence again, as the scouts rode along, breathing in the beauty of the “silent places.” When they had traveled about ten miles along this secret trail, with its ever-changing panorama of scenes, the swishing of a stream was heard. Soon after, the riders came to tumbling waters, that seemed in haste to go over the cliff that caused them to fall into a shadowy pool far below. Great rocks, overhanging pines, and gorgeous flora edged both sides of the waterfall, making a picture impossible to describe.
They descended the steep declivity that skirted the falls and picked up the trail again at the bottom. Here the scouts found several brooks that ran from the pool, but that were entirely separated from the main stream. Tally examined these canals carefully, and then held up a hand for attention.
“Scout hear beaver work? Dis beaver-canal.”
“Oh, really!” whispered the girls, excitedly. “If we could only watch them at work!”
They distinctly heard the “tap, tap, tap” of something softly thudding against wood, while Tally leaned over to speak.
“Mebbe kin see beaver. Leave horse tie here, an’ follow Tally sof’ly to colony. But make some noise an’ beaver dive home.”
The scouts promised to be very careful not to make a sound in following the guide, and so they dismounted to secure the horses and mules until their return from the beaver pond.
The scouts now had their first glimpse of these industrious little workers, that are found in large colonies everywhere throughout the Rocky Mountains. This particular colony had dug the canals from the pool to their pond, which was located in a bowl-like depression of the woods, and there dammed up the outlet. But few marauders passed here, and they lived in peace in their selected home-site.
There was a good growth of aspens all about the section, and these would supply food and lodgings for some time to come. The huts were erected in the middle of the largest pond of the chain. There were several beavers at work cutting the aspens when the party arrived on the edge of the pond, but so keen is the hearing and scent of these harmless animals, that they stopped work instantly, and slipped into the water, swimming unseen until they reached their huts.
“Huh! Dem ’fraid!” ejaculated Tally, with disgust on his face. “Come ’long – us see udder places.”
Then he led through the aspen forest that fringed the pond, and reached the outlet where the dam had been constructed by the beavers. Here the scouts saw a shallow waterfall that fed another canal; this stream ended in another, but smaller, pond than the upper one they had first found. In this pond were a number of large huts, and many beavers at work at the farthest side of the pond.
“I believe they are building another dam, Tally!” exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, under his breath.
“Um – he am. Scout sit and watch.”
So they all sat on the brink of the pond silently watching the busy workers as they cut down trees, dragged them into the water and then swam with them to the dam, where other beavers helped to place the heavy tree trunks in such a manner that any dead wood or débris floating downstream would catch and help to dam up the water.
“Why do they build another pond when there is such a big one above?” asked Betty.
Mr. Gilroy replied, “There is plenty of food for the family that now resides in the huts in the upper pond, but the colony is increasing so fast that they know there will not be room enough, or food enough, for all this winter. Hence they are building now, to provide ample shelter for the future. By starting another dam and thus creating a pond, these wise little woodsmen also secure an area of new aspens that will feed the new colony.
“Those canals that you see running out into the flat land beyond the new pond, are used as water courses to float the trees along into their pond. It is too bad we cannot see a beaver cut an aspen from that growth, and watch him float it until he brings it to its destination at the dam.
“But you can watch, from this vantage point, those old fellows at work. You see that big beaver that sits at one side of the two now cutting – well, he is the boss of that job. It is up to him to choose the best aspens for cutting and order his men to begin work, while he watches. Then when the tree is almost cut through he will warn them away, take up the work himself, and push on the severed trunk until it crashes down in the direction he wishes it to fall.
“You’ll see how clever they are to have the aspen fall as near the water as possible, that they need waste no energy in dragging it over the ground to the pond.”
The scouts watched, and sure enough! The old boss took up the work at a given signal to his two helpers to stand back, and soon after that, the aspen fell, half of it in the water. But the beavers must have heard a suspicious sound just as they were going to drag the tree across the pond, and they scuttled under the water.
Reluctantly the scouts turned away and went back to their horses, which they mounted, and soon they were riding along the way again.
“I never saw such enchanting flowers and gorgeous ferns!” exclaimed the Captain, enthusiastically.
“Um!” came from Tally, proudly, “him got more’n t’ousan’ kin’ flower in park!”
“Really! Oh, that we might secure one of each for a collection!” sighed Julie.
“It would take you longer than this summer to accomplish that,” remarked Mr. Gilroy. “Here you will find some of the rarest orchids, as well as the hardiest kinds, known. Besides, you will find about fifteen species of gentian, the famous blue-fringed gentian among them. The largest columbines ever found grow here; and sweet peas in all conceivable shades of coloring. Not only can you add wonders to the botanical collections that you started in the Adirondacks, but you ought to be able to study many marvelous birds that nest in this primeval park.”
So they rode along, stopping frequently to gather interesting flowers beside the trail, and to admire and watch the birds that could be seen everywhere.
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 amusement 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.