Girl Scouts in the Rockies

“Say, Ken, that plan might work out all right,” declared Mr. Gilroy. “How long shall you folks want to use the horses?”

“Why, as to that – we can go as far as your time permits, and return when you say.”

“Well, I’ll tell you! I’ve got to be about these diggings for another ten days or two weeks at least, and if the scouts want to take a little canoe trip during that time, I think it will be fine! What do you say, Captain?” and Mr. Gilroy turned to Mrs. Vernon.

“You seem to have settled everything before you asked my opinion. Yet there would be no scouts in the Rockies if I were not responsible for each one of them on this trip!”

“Why, Captain! I imagined you were as eager for this trip as the girls seem to be!” exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, aghast.

“Eager – what for? Losing half the scouts in a whirlpool because of a silly notion of Juliet’s?” The very mention of Julie’s full name sobered every one considerably, for they realized that the Captain was very serious in her objecting to this new risk.

Mr. Gilroy suggested, “Can you two men spend the day with Mrs. Vernon and the scouts? I’ve simply got to rush away and meet Mr. Vernon. Then we will plan to-night after dinner, and see what we can do. I do know that there’s no use your trailing back unless you go all the way to Loveland or Boulder for your mounts – and you won’t want to lose all that time, I’m sure.”

So Mr. Kenmore and his friend, Mr. Neil, spent a pleasant day with the scouts, and at night the subject of canoeing was again debated.

Finally, Joan said, “It’s foolish of Verny to say we will drown, when we won badges for our canoeing last year, and carried off the prizes for our county this spring.”

“These girls are better swimmers and more expert canoeists than most,” added Mr. Gilroy.

“Besides, my dear,” said Mr. Vernon to his wife, “it is not as if they had to paddle. With expert Indians to guide the crafts, why do you feel so timid about the trip?”

“We only have Tally, and he can paddle but one canoe at a time. If only Omney were here, he could take charge of one, and I could manage the other one,” sighed Mrs. Vernon, feeling overcome by the combined arguments of the others.

“How many canoes have you?” asked Mr. Gilroy.

“Three large ones, built for parties,” replied Mr. Kenmore. “My wife is a poor swimmer and knows nothing about a canoe, yet she had no fear in trusting herself to the expert Indian who managed the canoe she was in.”

“Why not let that Indian take charge of one canoe? Then the Captain will feel safer, and her responsibility will be less?” suggested Mr. Gilroy.

“We’d be glad to, as that will take care of him until we come back from our ride.”

Finally, Mrs. Vernon said, “If you agree to wait until Omney returns, so we can let him manage one of the canoes, I’ll withdraw most of my objections, but still I am not in favor of this trip!”

Having gained that much, the scouts knew better than to urge more at that time. Mr. Kenmore was relieved to find he could go back to his party with such good news – that horses and pack-mules were found as if by a fairy. He thought to himself, “By a clever little scout of a fairy, called Julie!”

Before the two men left camp in the morning, it was all settled. As soon as Omney returned, the scouts would break camp and ride on until they reached the camp pitched by Mr. Kenmore’s party. Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon would move leisurely along, searching in the moraines during the day, and pitching camp wherever they were when night fell. There would be no outfits to look after, and no cares about scouts, so they would reach Flat Top about the time the canoe party returned from its trip.

As soon as Omney came back to camp, therefore, every one was ready to proceed along the trail to Kenmore’s Camp. When the scout party rode into that camp, every one there was glad to see them, for they had heard about the scout outing and the plan to exchange horses for canoes, for a short time, at least.

“Couldn’t be better if Providence itself planned it all!” declared Mrs. Kenmore, enthusiastically. “Don’t you think so, Mrs. Vernon?”

“I’ll wait until we return before I commit myself. I always did think folks blamed Providence too much for what really was their own stubborn will,” returned the Captain.

Her repartee caused a laugh, and Julie exclaimed, “Verny, I fear you are coming down with chills and fever, – you never were so pessimistic before!”

“Yes, you are awfully lugubrious, Verny. At home you are with us on any wildcat scheme,” added Ruth.

“That’s it! It took a trip to the Rockies to show me what I was at home – for your wildcat schemes. Now I’m learning sense!” declared the Captain.

Mr. Kenmore had a brilliant idea, and he instantly followed it up. He brought the Indian guide who had paddled the canoe to camp, and introduced him to Mrs. Vernon, as his future mistress for the canoe trip.

The Captain saw the tall slender form, the fine muscular development of the Indian, and the polite demeanor. Then she said, “Have you been in the Rockies long?”

“Borned here. My fodder Chief of waterways in Colorado when she was territory and me lee’l boy.” The Indian demonstrated how small he was at that time.

“John tells me he has spent the last twenty years on these streams flowing from the Rockies. So he can be depended upon,” said Mr. Kenmore.

That noon, the party wishing to cross the Divide rode away with the horses and two pack-mules, while the three Indian guides showed Mrs. Vernon the route they proposed taking for the canoe trip. They would follow the creek that eventually emptied its crystal waters into Glacier Creek. But the latter had many fine tributaries, so they would follow one of these to a spot John knew of, where a short carry of a mile would bring them to a splendid river along which they could canoe for miles and miles.

The blankets and other necessities were carefully packed in the bottom of the canoes, and the slat frameworks for the flooring were laid down over them. Then the scouts divided their party and got into the three large canoes, with an experienced guide for each.

When they were once under way, Mrs. Vernon began to enjoy the trip as much as any one of the scouts. She leaned back comfortably in the canoe as she thought to herself, “What’s so enjoyable as this peaceful riding over placid waters, and passing by Nature’s wonder-spots!”

The Indians thoroughly enjoyed canoeing, and the two boys, Tally and Omney, were delighted at the change of plan that made this water trip possible for them. The paddles were in capable hands, and the canoes responded instantly to every touch.

A stroke one way and the canoe would evade a snag thrusting its ugly head from the stream. A stroke the other way, and the passengers quickly rounded a finger of land that jutted out into the water. Now and then a quick stroke, and a rock was passed without scraping, and all was done so quietly that no undue fear was roused.

They rode under massive overhanging rocks, glided past flat banks of land where gorgeous bloom offered sweetest nectar to bees and butterflies. Then they would shoot by cliffs whose towering sides were bare and threatening, or were overrun with vines and topped with giant pines whose roots found a hold down on the other side of the rock.

Finally the current began to run swifter, and still swifter. The Captain sat, half-mesmerized by the swirling water as the canoe shot through it. She was in a delicious state of mind when a stifled scream from Julie, in the leading canoe, caused her to rouse instantly.

They were sweeping around a wooded curve in the stream, and just before them was a series of little rapids that foamed and frothed. Farther on a narrow gorge was seen, and here the water doubled on itself and curled backward in its attempt to escape from the frowning walls of rock on either side.

Now the canoes were in the white churning waters! Now they were cutting through the foam, the wavelets striving to pile up and over the top of the canoes. The rapids roared as they flung themselves against the rocky wall just ahead, and the Captain murmured, “Oh, I hope no one runs into that!”

Then the three canoes were flying through the gorge, riding over the lapping waters, and now they were out again on the other side, gliding silently across a wide expanse of dark-green lake. And now the Captain heaved a sigh of relief and sent up a prayer of thanks for the protection.

The lake was quickly crossed, and again the three canoes were going down what seemed to be a chute. The scouts gasped at the speed, and grasped the edges of the crafts tightly. When the first canoe, managed by John, came to the spot, he called back a warning to the other two guides. And all three bent their muscles to the work in hand.

Suddenly, without other warning, Mrs. Vernon felt as if the canoe she sat in had dropped from under her – its flight was so swift that she scarcely realized the motion. Then – s-s-suash! down it came upon the top of the water again – but far ahead of whence it sprang. She turned to look at what could have caused this queer sensation and saw they had ridden a “rift.”

The three Indians cheered and complimented the scouts for their courage in this their first rift. So the scouts understood that such things were mere joys to an Indian and nothing to be frightened about.

During the afternoon the line of canoes reached one of the wildest and most alluring spots in the mountains. The forest was not so dense here, the water was smoother, and the stream wider. The Indians were warning each other “Watch out!” so their passengers were alert also. No one wanted to miss a single thrill of this marvelous trip.

Now a sound as of thunder in the distance reached their ears, and the Captain wondered what it could be. As the canoes sped onward, the sound grew plainer and louder, and caused a clutch of fear at the throats of the girls. But the Indians smiled eagerly and allayed undue trepidation.

Then quite suddenly, coming out of a screen of overhanging verdure, the strange sounds broke into wild tearing, roaring, pulsating tones, and the canoes slid down upon the tawny yellow chute of a real cataract!

The bulky black things that flashed up before the canoes, only to be as swiftly passed by, were rocks! The queer, rocking, green-gold glass they were sliding upon was water! And then, as in the rift, after a sudden sinking as if through space, they all rode out safely upon another deep quiet lake of dark-green water.

That night the Indians made camp on the moonlit shores of a marvelous lake. They had not bothered to stop for much dinner at noon, so every one was hungry by evening. Freshly caught fish, and the food that only an Indian can find and cook to perfection, made the scouts feel “like monarchs of all they surveyed.”

Such thrilling experiences as John could tell, kept the scouts gasping until Mrs. Vernon suggested they had best go to bed if they wished to continue in the morning. The beds of sweet bracken made up by Tally never held more appreciative mortals than the scouts, after the entertainment furnished by John had ended.

For breakfast, there were wild ducks’ eggs, found by Omney; stewed Indian potatoes, dug by Tally; Indian onions, discovered by John; and delicious coffee, brought by Mrs. Vernon. Then they cleared away all signs of the camp and proceeded along the way.

The second day of the canoeing there was no fear felt by any one, as the Indians had proved to be adequate for any emergency, and the canoes were splendidly constructed craft. In them the scouts shot rapids, rode down cataracts, bobbed about in whirlpools, and then – rode out upon quiet lakes laughing merrily in their nervous tension.