HOMEWARD BOUND.
They camped that night on the site of their previous resting place, and at
early morning gathered in their horses, some of which had strayed for
miles, and were soon on their road back to Seward. By journeying rapidly,
most of the trail being down hill, they arrived at the town early in the
afternoon, where they found a despatch from Colonel Snow, asking them to
await him there, as he would return to that port.
With the guide, they put in their time visiting the surrounding country,
and in a trip to the celebrated Columbia glacier, considered the most
beautiful and impressive on Prince William's Sound. It is about four miles
wide, and about three hundred feet high. There are ten other glaciers in
Prince William's Sound which keep its magnificent fiords filled with
icebergs which fall from the glaciers, with the sound of thunder. The
Scouts made a trip over the ice fields of Columbia, which were full enough
of ice bridges and crevasses to furnish many a thrill.
"I wonder if there are any more mammoths on ice under us here," said Don
as they tramped over the snowy surface.
"If there are, we shan't need an airship to get them," responded Rand.
"No," said Jack, "we shall want another kind of ship if we catch any more
of that sort."
Two days later the steamer from Seattle, by way of Cordova and Valdez,
reached Seward and the Colonel was a passenger. He brought with him a
large package of letters from Creston which had been wandering over the
Yukon, and had finally come across from Eagle to Valdez by way of
Fairbanks.
The boys repeated the newsy gossip of their home town, and exchanged their
letters freely. Pepper had three, however, which he read quietly by
himself.
"Come, Pepper," said Jack, "produce."
"These are entirely for private consumption," replied Pepper, turning red,
but with an effort at dignity.
"Pretty much everything you get your hands on seems to be," commented
Dick, and the boys surrounded Pepper with joined hands, singing: "I'll Bet
He's Had a Letter from Home," until the badgered youth tackled his brother
and broke through the line of his tormentors. The Colonel had also found
at Valdez a brief letter from Swiftwater, who announced that he had gotten
hold of what he considered a good claim, and if any of his late "command"
cared to come up and help him work it, they might all be millionaires
before the following spring.
"Any of you care to take the job?" asked the Colonel with a smile. "I've
taken an interest with Swiftwater in any claims he may file on, and you
might find it worth while. However, I'm frank to say that, having gotten
you this far without disaster I should prefer to return you to your homes
safe and in good order."
The reader may wish to follow the later adventures of the Boy Scouts, and
in the next volume, "In the North Woods," their further history will be
told.
The letters from home awakened many pleasant memories, and perhaps a
little feeling of home sickness, and there was no eager acceptance of the
miner's proposition, which, anyway, was probably made in a joking spirit.
"I believe," said Rand, "I should like to come back here some time. I
sometimes think that in spite of the fact that this great territory is so
near the North Pole, it's going to be a great commonwealth. I want to see
it in the winter time, when they say it is so terrible."
"Gee, I think we've had enough of it for this time," put in Gerald, with a
serious look. "I want to get home and build another aeroplane. They'll be
getting ahead of us on airships if we stay away much longer."
"And I hae me doots," put in the economical Don, "if this country isn't
too expensive for just regular living."
"I'm going to write a book about this country, and I want to get home to
do it," said Jack.
"Well," said Dick, "I'm rather in favor of a short visit to the old home
at this time, just to astonish the natives with a few of our adventures.
Since this patrol was formed, its experiences have got to be a regular
habit with the Creston folks, and I have an idea they must miss something
by this time. I think it's our duty to let them have at least an 'Old Home
Week' to relieve their--hey, what do you call it, Jack, in that high
school French of yours?--oh, yes, their _ongwee_."
"Well," said the ingenious Pepper, unguardedly, "I've got no reason--I
just want to go home."
"Nothing to do with a sudden case of 'private consumption?'" cruelly
remarked Jack, and amid the shout of laughter that followed Pepper,
covered with a sunset glow, made a sudden exit in search of the guide.
Colonel Snow had a conference with the Indians after he had inspected the
"treasure," and heard the story of its perilous recovery. He recognized
that the value of the mammoth tusks as museum specimens was far greater
than its worth as ivory, and he offered to pay the Indians far above its
commercial value for their interest in it, allowing them full possession
of the remaining ivory. They gladly accepted his suggestion, and all of
them returned to their village near Skagway, with sufficient wealth to
make them independent until the next "potlatch," when they would probably
give it all away.
After a conference with the old guide, Colonel Snow made him an offer to
join Swiftwater in the Fairbanks region, and operate with him on such
claims as he should secure, and the old man prepared to return to his
occupation as a miner, by the first fall stage from Valdez.
Having secured an official permit to take the caribou's head out of the
territory through the influence of Colonel Snow, the whole party embarked
next day on the homeward bound steamer, which leaving Seward, and stopping
at Valdez and Cordova, took the "outside passage," for their trip, giving
the Scouts for the first time a full taste of the Pacific Ocean. They
proved good sailors in this instance, however, and in a few days stepped
ashore in Seattle in their "Ain Countree."
As they crept into their berths in the Great Northern's Transcontinental
Limited that night, eastward bound, Jack said:
"Rand, what do you suppose became of Dublin, Rae and Monkey? They seem to
have missed us lately."
"You've heard, Jack, of a bad penny, haven't you? Well, they're three bad
pence. Look out."
(THE END.)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts on the Yukon, by Ralph Victor