Chatterbox, 1906 Part 107

'Tis very cold,' a Daisy said Upon a meadow green, 'Dark, gloomy clouds are overhead, Without a ray between.

These angry gusts of bitter wind (So unexpected too) Are really more than I can bear-- They chill me through and through.'

Just then his discontented eye Looked sorrowfully up, And chanced across the path to spy A golden b.u.t.tercup.

Its petals flinched before the wind, The stalk was roughly bent, And yet the Daisy could not hear One word of discontent.

And then this foolish Daisy cried: 'It's plain enough to spy, Most blossoms in this meadow wide Are better off than I!

They do not mind the shadows dark, Nor feel the bitter wind; If I could be a b.u.t.tercup, I really shouldn't mind.'

Now, like this Daisy in the gra.s.s Some people I have known, Who, while their daily troubles pa.s.s Do nothing else but moan, And think that those who bravely bear The chilling wind and rain Can feel no sorrow in their hearts Because they don't complain.

JOCK'S COLLIE.

A True Story.

Travellers over the great trans-continental railways of the United States and Canada gaze with awe and wonder at the grandeur of Nature in the wild canyons and rugged peaks of the Rocky Mountains. In many places the railway tunnels through overhanging rocks, or winds round narrow shelves above gloomy precipices.

The railway companies take the greatest precautions for the safety of their trains in the mountain sections. Besides the usual working gangs, there are special track-walkers, and 'safety switch-openers,' who lead solitary lives in the great hills.

Spring thaws and showers loosen the frost-bound soil, trickling snow-rills grow into gullying torrents, and the jar of a pa.s.sing train sets in motion a loose boulder, which, with ever-increasing speed, at last hurls itself upon the track. Even the echoes of the locomotive whistle will in some states of the atmosphere bring disaster. Tiny snow crystals are jarred by the sound-waves; these start on a downward career, gathering volume and speed until a mighty avalanche has been developed.

In one of these mountain canyons lives a Scotch track-walker and his only companion, a beautiful and intelligent collie dog, who always accompanies his master on the inspection rounds.

It was in the late afternoon of a strenuous day in May, when Jock and Collie arrived weary and hungry at the 'shack' (hut) door. Everything was satisfactory in the canyon, the section gang had gone down the track, and with a sigh of content Jock set about preparing his evening meal. Collie, with his head between his paws, watched the proceedings.

Suddenly he a.s.sumed an alert, listening att.i.tude, then he set off at a great rate up the track.

When supper was ready Jock whistled for his companion, and on looking out was surprised to find him gone; but from the narrowing walls of the gorge came the sound of his furious barking. Jock whistled again and again, but the dog did not come. Perfectly convinced that something was wrong, he seized his rifle and hurried off, expecting to find that Collie had cornered some wild animal, or that some animal had cornered him! Round the curve he hurried, and what he saw almost paralysed him.

A great boulder, weighing many hundredweight, lay across the track, and on top of it, wild with excitement, was Collie.

On the little flat near the 'shack' was the switch at which the Pacific and Atlantic Expresses--the trains going East and West--crossed. They were due almost at once. He was alone, time was short, and upon his action depended the safety of many lives. He could not go both ways at once with his warning; but down the western track beyond the switch he sped with explosive 'torpedoes,' or detonating signals. Then he hurried back again past the dog (still on his signal station), and far to the east, round the long curve, with his red flags of danger.

The express from the Pacific, warned by the torpedoes, steamed slowly, very slowly, to the switch, then came to a standstill.

The train crew ran down to the hut, which was thick with smoke from burnt 'flap-jacks' and frizzled bacon, but found no sign of Jock or Collie. Round the curve they ran, and there, still on the boulder, was Collie, barking, as the brakeman expressed it, 'to beat the band.'

The others continued the pursuit of Jock, while the brakeman tried to coax the dog down. But Collie was there for a purpose, and not until Jock returned would he leave his post. His master's smiling face and hearty voice gave a.s.surance that all was well, and then Collie fairly hurled himself upon Jock, licked his face and gave frantic yelps of delight.

An extempore breakdown gang cleared the track, and the great trains thundered away to Atlantic and Pacific--saved by a dog!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "There, still on the boulder, was Collie, barking."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The third time he collapsed, and was pulled back."]

ROUND THE CAMP-FIRE.

By HAROLD ERICSON.

VIII.--THE MAN AT THE WHEEL.

'Have either of you fellows ever been in the middle of a fire at sea?'

asked Vandeleur one evening, when informed that it was his turn to spin a yarn for the benefit of the rest. 'If not, I advise you to keep as far away from such a thing as you can. My own experience is only, so to speak, on a small scale; that is, I was only, at the time, upon a short journey across a lake in a small j.a.panese steamer--a voyage of about sixty miles--but I can a.s.sure you I was never more frightened in my life. One feels so utterly helpless when apparently at the mercy of the most pitiless of the elements, far from sh.o.r.e, and--for all one can see--confronted by the necessity to choose one of two kinds of death, if one is more terrible than the other--drowning or burning.

'Am I right in believing that you succeeded in cheating both the fire and the water, perhaps out of deference to the hangman?' asked Bobby, 'or am I speaking to a somewhat solid ghost?'

'Escaped, I believe.' replied Vandeleur, 'in order that I might try to teach manners to a certain ruffian of the name of Robert Oakfield.'

With the words, Vandeleur fell suddenly upon Bobby, and quickly upsetting him, rubbed his nose in the soft moss. There was a short, sharp struggle, and Vandeleur returned to his seat.

'I have not yet succeeded in my object,' continued Vandeleur, 'but I hope for the best.'

We had gone about half-way to our destination--town called Shukisama, on the other side of the lake--when it was suddenly discovered that our little steamer, the _Toki Maru_, was on fire. With very little warning, flames sprang up from the hold--no one ever discovered how the fire began--and almost in an instant the half of the steamer which lay aft of the hold became unapproachable on account of the dense volumes of black smoke which flew in clouds over it, driven by the head-wind against which the little steamer was making its way.

The captain quickly ordered every pa.s.senger forward into the bows of the vessel, out of the reach of the heat and suffocating smoke. The crew then attempted, with hose and pump, to keep the fire in hand; but already, it appeared, the flames had obtained the mastery, and their attempts came too late. The cargo, I believe, was tow, or some other oily substance difficult to extinguish once the fire had secured a firm hold upon it. Moreover, the smoke and heat were such that it was impossible for the workers to approach near enough to concentrate their efforts where they would be most likely to succeed.

The pa.s.sengers huddled together in the bows of the little steamer and watched the efforts of the crew. It was obvious that these efforts had failed.

'Have we time to reach Shukisama?' men and women asked one another; 'it is twenty miles, or more--nearly two hours--shall we do it?' The captain, when anxiously asked as to this, replied: 'We hope so; who can tell? Much depends on the man at the wheel.'

The man at the wheel! Not one of us selfish people in safety and comfort--speaking comparatively--in the bows, had thought of the poor fellow back there in the stern, sticking bravely to his post in spite of the dense, hot smoke which must be enveloping him in its suffocating fumes.

'He cannot last long, captain,' said some one, 'in that atmosphere; he will be suffocated, or he will give up and jump into the sea. What will happen if there is no one to steer the s.h.i.+p?'

'She will go round and round,' replied the captain, laughing grimly, 'while we are roasted or drowned. At present he is sticking to his post, and we are travelling in our course. You may be thankful, all of you, that we have a brave man, young Hayas.h.i.+, at the wheel. He was only married last week, and his wife is at Shukisama; you may be sure he will do his best to get home.'

'A man may be ever so much in love,' said a pa.s.senger, 'but he cannot breathe fire and smoke for air: it must be pretty hot where he is, and it will soon be hotter!'

A cry went up for volunteers to relieve the man at the wheel. Several came forward--they are brave as lions, these j.a.panese. One was selected as the first to make an effort to pa.s.s through the smoke and flame to the stern of the vessel. A line was made fast to the good fellow's waist, for, he had said, in case he should collapse in the dense smoke, he would rather be hauled back in any position, than left there!

Three times the brave man rushed into the ma.s.s of hot, poisonous vapour, and twice he returned staggering and choking. The third time he entirely collapsed, and was pulled back. His jacket was on fire and he was unconscious. A second man instantly volunteered; he had a new suggestion to make.

'I will slip over the side of the s.h.i.+p, and you can pay out line gradually until I have reached a spot where I think I can climb up. When I pull, you must slack out the line.'

'Mind the screw. Don't get sucked back too far astern,' said the captain; 'be careful.'

The man jumped into the water, and was carried instantly astern; he tugged, and line was paid out. Soon it became evident, by the tension of the line, that he had clung on to the vessel's side; probably he was climbing laboriously upward--his plan was going to succeed.

But the line suddenly sprang outwards; he had jumped into the sea again; a few minutes, and he was hauled back, out of breath and exhausted.