"_BLOW-ME-DOWN._"
"Dark was thy coming and with fire and dearth;
Internal shudderings and voiceless throes;
When from the burning depths thy form arose
To lie all black and shapeless on the earth."
Frank Winslow was now in the midst of his work, fully recovered from the
effect of his accident, and in the enthusiasm of his investigations,
with the ardor and strength of his young manhood, he kept himself
actively engaged. Sometimes with Pierre and Len, and often with Pierre
alone, he made excursions to regions of important geological formations
on the numerous islands that studded the waters of the Basin of Minas.
He often kept Len afloat for several days, much to the vexation of that
young man.
They were again out on the flood tide approaching Blomidon, Len, as
usual, at the tiller and Winslow busy with his glass. The wind was fresh
and the _Marie_ moved quickly into the shadow of that famous mountain of
volcanic birth, the termination of the range of hills that make the
backbone of Nova Scotia. The end of the mountain rose in front, lying
along the Basin for several miles, and presenting a rugged and
precipitous face over the greater part of its extent. Here and there the
crown of forest extended down the face of the cliffs like a cape, while
in other places the soil was red and stood out in sharp contrast to the
black or darker portions of the trap formations. Occasionally were open
spaces of farm land where a barn or house could be seen perched
seemingly on the very edge of the bluff. Along the whole face of the
shore line the mountain stood out in coves and bays curving backward for
several miles. To the extreme right the rock terminated in a sharp point
called Cape Split, pointing seaward into the waters of the Bay of Fundy.
On the right could be seen the lower lands of the Annapolis Valley,
resting in quiet beauty on the south of the mountain. On the extreme
south, blue in the distance, rose the outline of the South Mountain,
making the other wall of the valley. The whole scene lay under the
glorious sky of an Acadian summer, a veritable--
"Tempe, vale of the gods, deep-couched amid woodland and woodland,
All day drowsed with the sun, charm-drunken with moonlight at
midnight,
Walled from the world forever under a vapor of dreams,--
Hid by the shadows of dreams not found by the curious footstep,
Sacred and secret forever, Tempe, vale of the gods."
--_C. G. D. Roberts._
"Well, Len," said Winslow, "you seem to know everything about this
grand old Basin: what is the meaning of Blomidon?"
"Blow-me-down, sir," answered Len, laconically.
The boat was under light sail, as the wind was fresh, and the early tide
was driving them along rapidly. Frequent gusts of wind seemed to sweep
down upon them from the mountain, literally falling upon the sails. One
of these gusts struck the boat just as Len answered Winslow's question.
The effect was startling and strange as the squall whirled about them
without a sign of its coming.
"I understand your meaning, Len," said Winslow, after the boat had
recovered and the wind had passed.
Len made no reply, but kept on the alert, sheet in hand and tiller free.
Blomidon cast a dark shadow to-day which the little boat was now darting
through under the great bluffs. They soon sailed into smoother water and
glided along steadily near the shore. Their course lay just outside the
tide "rips," which roared and foamed where eddy and tide passed each
other. The tide was rising rapidly and in a few hours would be sixty
feet deeper, all the water pouring into the Basin between Blomidon and
the opposite shores of Partridge Island, five miles distant.
Len pointed out the long line of beach formed of gravel and stone thrown
up beyond the highest tides by the action of the surf. Behind this
"sea-wall," many yards in extent, were the excavations made by the
treasure hunters after Captain Kidd's hidden money.
Passing southward, they cut across from point to point the magnificent
curve of "Big Eddy," after having examined for some time Amethyst Cove,
so famous for the quality and quantity of its amethyst veins.
Their destination was Indian Springs, where it was possible to observe
the junction of red sandstone and the overlying trap which had been
forced up and poured over the earth during a great internal disturbance.
Leaving Len to look after the boat, Winslow spent the greater part of
the day alone. He had proceeded along the shore for several miles, fully
absorbed by his investigations, when he saw by the height of the tide
that it was time for him to return to the boat. The formation of the red
sandstone yet drew him onward till he saw, about half a mile ahead of
him, that the face of the bluff was almost perpendicular to the beach,
and that the waves of the tide were washing against the face of the
rock, thus cutting off farther passage. As he stood examining the
elevated rocky shore on which he now stood, he heard a voice below him,
and turning he saw a young woman who had just risen into view from
behind a large boulder.
Seeing him, she spoke hurriedly and with serious face.
"Oh, sir, are you acquainted with these tides? If so, do pray tell us
how long it may be before we can pass that point which the tide reaches
yonder?"
"High tide will not be for an hour," said Winslow, looking at his watch
as he approached her. "It will be another hour, perhaps, before the tide
will recede to enable you to pass the point."
"Oh, what shall we do?" said another voice, proceeding from the same
rock.
As he came nearer he saw another young woman, with a look of utter
despair, seated upon a stone, her head resting on both hands.
"Oh, Grace, what shall we do? Mother will be so frightened at our
absence, and you know she is not yet strong after her illness. Oh, sir,
can you help us to return to our friends? We should have left here an
hour ago. If we cannot get back before two hours I do not know how much
my mother may be affected."
"Calm yourself, Lizzie," said her friend, encouragingly; "perhaps this
gentleman may help us," turning to Winslow as she spoke.
"I came to this shore in a sail-boat which is, I fear, too far away to
be brought here in an hour. If I had been a few minutes earlier I might
have helped you past the point, even if it had been necessary to carry
you."
"My friend, Miss Forest, is not a good mountain climber, or we might try
to reach the top of the bluff and return that way."
"I think, Miss--?" hesitated Winslow.
"Gaston," she said, smiling, in reply.
"I think, Miss Gaston," as he spoke passing to her a card he happened to
have, "if you are willing to permit me to assist you, that we may find a
way up the mountain."
"Lizzie, if you will accept Mr. Winslow's kind offer to help us we may
return at once. I can carry the camera and get on very well without
help, as you know."
"Anything, Grace, if we may escape from here. The sound of the waves
will drive me to do anything. I have become so nervous thinking of
mother."
"It is very kind of you, Mr. Winslow," said Miss Gaston, "and pray
excuse the necessity of taking your time in this way. It may cause you
much inconvenience."
"Not at all," smiled Winslow, in reply; "I am my own master, and my
boatman is engaged for the season."
"Do let us hasten, then, Mr. Winslow, I beg of you. It is very, very
kind of you indeed."
Winslow at once moved up the rocky base of Blomidon, choosing a way
through the boulders and over the rough broken stone that was easiest
for the ladies. As he came near the steep face of the cape he selected a
place which seemed to promise less difficulty than elsewhere for their
ascent. The course took them up the bed of a brook in the sandstone worn
irregularly smooth, and free from stone and earth. At this dry season
the amount of water running was small. It was very steep in many
places, but the sharp, fine material of the rock over which they trod
gave them a good footing. Winslow paid all attention to Miss Forest, who
was more timid and less agile and firm of foot than Miss Gaston. Often
the way was so steep as to be most difficult for him to ascend, but when
he got himself up it was more easy to assist them afterward. To aid him
he used a long, tough stick which he found on the way, and by taking the
ends in his hands he made good use of the loop by passing it around the
waist of the young women.
"Are you sure you can hold out, ladies?" asked Winslow, when they had
risen about a hundred feet in this way, and were resting, still in the
bed of the brook.
"We must! We must!" cried Miss Forest, clinging to her friend as she
looked down the steep way they had come. "It can be no worse than going
up. Indeed, I do not believe we can get back. Do you think so, Grace?"
Her friend smiled and said, "We are doing well, are we not, Mr.
Winslow?"
"You certainly are. Fifty feet more will take us out of this brook bed
to a road less steep, though perhaps less easy to climb."
Having rested for a short time, they again began the ascent, but a few
more yards brought them to the most difficult place to surmount they had
met with.
"Now, ladies, I have helped you up so far," said Winslow, after he had
examined the wall before and above them; "you must now help me." He
spoke cheerfully. "This place is too high for me to go up without a
little help. Just above is the last of the brook bed for us."
"How may we help you?" said Miss Gaston, surveying the red and
apparently impassable wall they were yet to climb. Her face told Winslow
that she felt the difficulty of their position. Her friend sat down
without a word, the picture of despair.
Winslow lost no time. Taking from his pocket a large knife, he carefully
selected a place measuring from Miss Gaston's head, and in a few minutes
had cut a notch in the loose rock large enough to receive part of a
foot. He then cut another as high from the base as she could reach with
her foot to lift her weight from the ground. Between the two now cut he
made another.
"Now, ladies you must hold me against the rock when I step up on the
lowest notch."
Placing his foot in position he rose up, and while held there by both
the young women he cut a fourth notch above the highest one. Miss Forest
saw what he wished to do and became more hopeful again.
"Less than three minutes will find us all above. Now, ladies, your
assistance again."
Placing one on each side of him, he stood close to the rock and raised
himself carefully and slowly with his foot in the first step. The ladies
held him against the face of the rock while he aided himself as much as
he could by placing his hands in the step above his head. When he
reached the second step he could not depend upon anything above to
support him. Now taking the knife from between his teeth where he held
it open, he reached up and made another small cut, into which he pressed
his fingers. He held for a moment to give the ladies an opportunity to
rest, for he felt the trembling of their hands against him. In a few
more seconds he had the notch deeper, and with his foot in the third
hole, he was able to draw himself up to the shelf above, which was large
and flat.
"Now, ladies, if your skirts will not permit you to be sure in taking
the steps, you had better shorten them. You will not be able to use your
hands."
"Miss Gaston, if you will help your friend up one step, I will be able
to use this stick. She will let it pass over her shoulders under her
arms. By all means keep close to the rock. I have cut a place here to
brace my feet."
Very pale, and with set lips and eyes filled with fear, Miss Forest went
up as she was directed. She was slight, and Winslow was able almost to
lift her up the ascent, her own exertions merely keeping her from being
bruised against the rock. She was up in a moment at his side.
"You are without anyone to help you, Miss Gaston, but your strength was
necessary to aid your friend.
"Place your foot in the first step and rest your two hands in the
second. When I say 'ready,' leap up from the ground as far as you can.
Try it a few times easily till you are sure of your footing."
She did so, and after a few trials could rest for a brief space of time
on one foot supported by her hands.
"Now, ready!" cried Winslow, and as she rose he let the loop of the
stick fall over her shoulders far enough down for it to rest under her
arms as her hands slipped off the step. Holding firmly to the stick, and
balanced on one foot, she steadied herself for a moment, and lifting the
other foot she placed it in the second step. With his assistance she was
able to rise to this foot, and with another step upward was drawn to a
safe place on the ledge by her hands, which Winslow seized with his own.
He gave them time to let down their skirts, not before his eyes of
necessity had sight of shapely ankles and limbs, and suspicion of torn
hosiery.