_THE ALTERNATIVE._
"Grim warders of the everlasting crags,
To whose bleak avenues the eagle steers;
Holding an endless conclave of the peers,
Where often Time lays down his blade and lags;
Ye are of other days when roaming stags
Leaped from no human voice with trembling fears;
Ere came the red men and the pioneers;
Or Glooscap plied his paddle to the flags."
While Winslow and his recent acquaintances were resting on the broad
shelf which they had reached with so much difficulty, and were looking
out over the waters that lay below them nearly two hundred feet, a boat
appeared sailing close to shore.
"My boatman has arrived, ladies. Shall we return and take the boat, or
continue up the mountain?"
"We could never get down again," said Miss Forest, going as near the
edge as she dared, and looking down with a shudder. "I am sure I do not
know how we ever came up."
"It is always easier to go up a steep place than to go down," said
Winslow, recalling his own experience of a few weeks previous.
"I also think we had better try the ascent," added Miss Gaston.
"The way has been so difficult, I do not wish to conjecture as to the
rest of the ascent. Yet I think we have gone over the worst of it,"
rejoined Winslow, looking up the face of the mountain, which from where
he stood could be seen rising into the woods of the summit. On the right
a strip of hardwood ran down the face of the cliff and shut off their
view to the north-east, but on their left hand the rough formation
extended for several hundred yards, patches of green shrubbery and woods
alternating with rough stone broken off the cliff and sloping downward.
Everything seemed to be clinging to the steep face of the mountain, and
was apparently at any moment likely to lose its hold and go sliding and
tumbling down into the sea. The wind often started a rock or slide of
sand downward, and the noise of invisible movement often came to their
ears. Yet the birds were all about them. Eagle and hawk were interrupted
in their warfare on the smaller bird life, and the seagulls floated
through the air with graceful motion.
"Let us go, Grace," said Miss Forest, at last becoming impatient.
By this time Winslow had succeeded in attracting the attention of Len,
though he could not make him understand in the roar of the waves, but by
motioning in the direction he intended to take he kept him going on to
the termination of the mountain.
The ladies were climbing up and were able to get along very well
without assistance. Their course lay up a long, loose slide of rock and
earth not easy to traverse at times because of its tendency to slip from
beneath their feet and endanger the limbs of the person who happened to
be just below. Large rocks were easily set rolling downward, and their
way was marked by a continuous rolling of stones and earth.
Taking a diagonal direction up the face of the mountain, they approached
the long line of trees and brush which seemed to extend from the brow of
the bluff of Blomidon downward to where they were.
They now stood within a short distance of the wood they were aiming for,
but to Winslow's dismay he found that the more solid formation on which
they stood and the woods beyond were separated by a long slide, steep
and treacherous, of fine red sand. This slide was as level as a roof.
The particles of sand moving so freely over each other had made the
slide extremely steep, and the whole slope presented no visible break in
the smoothness of its surface. Winslow found that when he tried to go
across it was necessary to step very quickly, as his feet sank in the
soft material, and the whole surface seemed to move downward in a body,
bearing him along with it. His strength kept him from sliding down
quicker than he could walk, and he was able to make his way across,
where he found another difficulty. The rise from the slide was high, the
margin of the wood making a steep bank held together by the countless
roots of the trees that bordered it. It was higher than his shoulders,
and could only be climbed by the aid of the bare roots and overhanging
branches. To stand in one place was impossible, and it would exhaust the
strongest man in a short while to attempt to walk up the slide.
"Your assistance, Mr. Winslow," said a voice near him, and turning
around he found that Miss Gaston had followed him, but without strength
enough to enable her to keep in line with him, she had been carried down
some distance by the moving sand. He was at her side in an instant, and
together they slowly came up the slope until he was able to grasp a
projecting root, and with much difficulty he succeeded in helping her up
the bank. As a muscular feat it was the most severe he had attempted
that day. They had torn so much of the sand down in their passage across
that now the whole face of the slide was amove, the particles filling up
all the traces of their exertions. Returning quickly for Miss Forest, he
led her up the bank some distance, and as she was slight of figure he
was able, by half dragging and half lifting her, to get her safe across.
And they again stood together, glad to rest for a time.
"Admirably done, Mr. Winslow," said Miss Gaston, laughing. "You surely
have repented of this undertaking many times since we left the beach."
"I have regretted what it has caused you, rather. You will have painful
reminders in bruised body and stiffened and strained limbs for some
weeks. This trip will be one to be remembered."
"And much torn clothing," added Miss Forest, whose spirits had revived
somewhat, surveying the disorder of her garments, at the same time
exchanging glances with Miss Gaston whose meaning seemed to be mutually
understood, for merry laughter followed.
"Are you sufficiently rested, Mr. Winslow?" asked Miss Gaston, smiling.
"Quite so, thank you," replied Winslow, at once making his way up the
mountain through the thick growth of trees and underbrush. From this
point they were able to make their way with comparative ease and comfort
to the top of the bluff and along the summit.
"At last, at last!" cried Miss Forest, as they clambered up the last
part of the steep bluff, and found themselves on the level ground, over
which they could now proceed to their destination. They did not pause to
enjoy the magnificent view presented from the top of Cape Blomidon, but
hurried downward, the delight of their escape lending renewed strength
to their limbs. The roar of the sea came to their ears from the shore
hundreds of feet below them, and the sun was now about to dip into the
crimson and gold lights of the west.
Miss Forest had recovered her natural vivacity of manner and speech.
"Our meeting was a fortunate one for us, Mr. Winslow. But for you we
would still be prisoners in that dreadful place, and perhaps would not
have been able to get away from it till after dark. You certainly saved
my peace of mind, and my mother will thank you for thus restoring her
daughter to her arms."
"I shall be glad to tell her what a good mountain climber her daughter
is," smiled Winslow. "You both did well, and gave a good exhibition of
American pluck. If I mistake not, you are Americans? Almost all the
tourists who come here are Americans."
"Yes, we are New Yorkers," she replied.
"My home also for several years," said Winslow. "My summers are usually
spent away."
"It may seem strange to you that we should have been caught in such a
trap, but we had been told to return in an hour, and we did not think it
possible that the tide could rise so rapidly as it did. We are
collecting mineral specimens,--not as some of you gentlemen fish, you
know, with silver hooks, but we find our own specimens, and in our
enthusiasm among the agates and amethysts we did not note how far we
were away from the point until too late."
"And our lovely specimens!" cried Miss Gaston. "We have left them on the
beach; I did not bring a crystal of any kind."
"Grace, you may have to go after them alone to-morrow. Mother objected
to letting me go away from her to-day. After this experience I do not
think I shall desire to attempt another for some time."
"I shall return to-morrow by way of the shore and may be able to find
your collection," said Winslow. "My work will keep me here two or three
days longer, and my intention is to go over the beach thoroughly on
foot."
"We have already put ourselves under obligation to you beyond our power
to repay," said Miss Gaston.
They now were in sight of the little wharf at White Waters, and the red
road leading down beside it to the beach which had been followed by the
young ladies. On the pier they saw a man and woman walking to and fro,
often stopping to look towards the point around which the young ladies
were expected to come.
"My poor, dear old mother!" cried Miss Forest, in a burst of excitement,
as she caught sight of the two figures. They all set up a cry, and with
their handkerchiefs waving soon attracted the attention of their
friends.
It was not many minutes before mother and daughter were in each other's
arms, as if the younger woman had escaped from some great danger.
"My dear child, how anxious I have been for you, and for you, too,
Grace."
"You must thank our escort, Mr. Winslow, mother, for he was a friend
indeed, and came along at the right moment."
"I hope you will join us at the hotel this evening, Mr. Winslow," said
Mrs. Forest to him as they proceeded up the pier. Miss Gaston was
accompanied by the gentleman, whom Winslow observed with interest. Of
quiet and easy manner, Mr. Sternly left a doubt in the mind of the young
geologist as to what place to assign him in relation to the party whom
chance had so suddenly thrown in his way.
It was an eventful day in the life of two of the party at least. The sun
went down, and under the cliffs of Blomidon night soon fell, while out
across the Basin glided the lights of ships, and far across the waters
of the now quickly falling tide gleamed the bright beacon of Horton
Bluff, telling the pilots where the Cornwallis, the Avon and the
Gaspereau rivers lie, and to the eye familiar with all the loveliness of
the south shore that bright gleam told where stretched the verdant
dykeland of the Grand-Pré.