THE LAST WEST
----AND----
Paolo's Virginia
G. B. WARREN
Copyright Canada, 1919
By G. B. Warren
CONTENTS
October Daybreak on Boundary Bay
The Last Arete
The Great Divide
Above the Clouds
Winter Sunset in the Cascade Range
Beside the Ocstall
Jansen's Curse
The Survey Cook
A Raid on the Seal Rookeries
The Coast of British Columbia
Vancouver
Victoria, B. C.
Paolo's Virginia (A Spring Phantasy)
Author's Introduction
To you who have lifted the veil of mists o'er-blown
And gazed in the eyes of dawn when night had flown--
Have felt in your hearts a thrill of sheer delight
As you scanned the scene below from some alpine height--
I extend this fleeting glimpse across a world
Of forest and meadow land--at last unfurled--
Through vistas of soaring peaks with frosted crest
In the fiorded wonderland of this--last--west.
October Daybreak on Boundary Bay
A skyline bold and clear
Of cold sharp corniced snow,
Where, bulking huge, the mass of Baker's cone
Shadows the world below.
'Tis bright with promise now!
That flood and field
Still shrouded in the mystery of night,
Will shortly be revealed.
The wildfowl on the bay
Call to the distant flight
Of ducks, that swoop from out the realms of space,
Seeking a place to light.
Sounds through the waking hours
The beating of countless wings,
Faint voices floating through the upper air
In softest whisperings.
A blush of coming day
Flooding the eastern sky,
Fresh rosy Dawn climbing the rampart hills,
Forces the night to fly:
Then from his lair the sun
Leaps forth. The fading gleam
Of silver moon and silent stars is quenched.
Day reigns once more supreme.
The Last Arete
Alpinist--
Excelsior, there's nought we may not dare!
Why, now, confess defeat, when plain in sight
Looms the stern peak--to which we've toiled and fought
Up many a mountain gorge and soaring height?
It were a shame if we should now go back
And, leaving all we've won, retrace our track.
Undaunted by the circling mists we camped,
Laid siege; while hail and snow went storming by,
Assaulted through the brilliant mists; that wrapped
A veil, impenetrable to the eye,
Around the wastes of ice, the snowfields bare
And craggy peaks that pierce the upper air.
We scorned to own defeat, when lost to sight,
'Mid cloud and snowstorm, was that summit cold;
But started out the morn e're yet the sun
The highest cornices had edged with gold.
See now! the noonday glare reveals our fate
Above a rampart white and sharp arete.
Guide--
Crevasses open-mouthed have reft the face
Of brightly gleaming ice, that upward led.
Their clear green depths a gap impassable present
Across the glacier slope ahead;
Save on yon steep and scintillating slope
Which promises success to axe and rope.
Alpinist--
Roped man to man we'll scale the giddy height:
Step after step cut up those slopes of snow
That, gleaming spotless in the noonday light,
Curve out of sight above and far below.
What rumbled? (G.) From yon distant cliff was hurled
An avalanche which shakes this snowy world.
Guide--
The rocks I've gained through chimneys rough and steep
That crumble at a careless touch, and send
A rattling train of rubble bounding down
The icy slopes, which great crevasses rend.
Re-entrant over here the mountain dips
Into a gulf, which eddying mists eclipse.
Perched on this tottering and steep arete,
One hardly dares to even whisper low;
Lest, crashing from their crumbling pedestals,
The rotten crags through empty space will go
Two thousand feet down, where the hard neve
Is packed by ice that avalanched that way.
I'll anchor fast, and hold the rope, that you
By hand and foot and alpenstock may scale.
A traverse of the skyline rocks we'll make
And yon last gleaming slope of snow assail.
It leads up to a virgin mountain's head,
On which our feet will be the first to tread.
* * * *
The highest of a glacier covered range,
Its proud and lofty crest at length hath bowed
Before the bold attack of alpinists
Undaunted by the steeps or storm or cloud;
and all the dangers than in grim array
The spirit of the mountain brought to play.
[*]The Great Divide
What strange emotions fill my breast!
What flitting shadows of unrest
Sweep o'er me as I stand beside
The Rocky Mountains' "Great Divide."
That rustic arch, with letters bold
Against the summit snowfields cold,
Has power to wing my fancy far
To this split streamlet's furthest bar.
The icy flood is cleft in twain,
Its waters never meet again;
Far east and to the furthest west
Those wavelets hurry without rest.
The mind can hardly grasp such vast
Extent of territory passed
E're these two streams shall reach the sea,
At different oceans to be free.
Through valleys wide and fertile plain,
Where yellow fields of waving grain
Are garnered for the wide world's store,
One stream flows to a distant shore.
May be that harnessed it will drive
The wheels which in some human hive
Of industry are waiting for
The power that it holds in store
To saw the timber, thresh the grain
And even haul the loaded train
By energy electrical
As though some wizard wove a spell.
Such small beginnings mark this stream,
It almost seems to be a dream
That carries me in mind away
Along its course to Hudson's Bay.
Far down the other branch we roam
By smiling lakes, and watch the foam
Of rapid streams that flow between
Fair orchard lands and meadows green.
The silv'ry salmon leaps the falls;
And everywhere insistent calls
Arise from forest, stream and hill,
To charm the sense or test the skill.
Oft times by restlessness oppressed,
I long to see that lonely crest;
And once again to dream beside
The arch, that's lettered "Great Divide."
[*]A watershed of the Rockies--a stream passing beneath an arch
on the summit is divided, one part being directed eastward and
the other westward.
Above the Clouds
On the shores of a sea of mist
I chanced to roam,
Where sunlit the surface gleamed
Whiter than foam.
But the voice of the restless main
Was absent there,
For the billows that rolled along
Were waves of air;
And the isles of that silent sea
Were mountain peaks
That, far from the haunts of man,
The wild goat seeks.
O, that day above the clouds
Was bright and fair!
With pines and the sparkling snow
Unsullied there;
But, a thousand fathoms down
A city street
Was shrouded in sunless gloom
Where shadows meet;
It knew not the fairer day
And matchless view;
That snowfields gleamed above
And skies were blue:
That the clouds which gloomed below
Were seas of light
From another point of view
At greater height.
Winter Sunset in the Cascade Range
Picture a world of snowfields
Aglow in the sunset light,
Great fir trees snow-flake laden
And broken clouds piled white;
While bathed in a silver sheen
The pines on a crest are seen.
Would I could frame the language
Worthy those sunset tints,
Hued from saffron to coral,
Aflame where the sunlight glints;
And the clear steel blue of the sky
Where the clouds had drifted by.
The daylight slowly faded.
Weakly mere words convey
The ivory white of snowflakes,
Decking the hills that day;
And the softening yellow tone
That fell from the sun god's throne.
Far beyond wooded ridges
Lit with a twilight ray,
Sentinel like in the cloudland
A nameless peak held sway;
Keeping a silent guard
O'er valleys by cloud wreaths barred.
'Twas crowned with flaming colours
Of sunset's fleeting hour;
Giving its best expression
To nature's lavish dower
E're the ebbing tide of day
Should fade from the world away.
Then light melted softly to shadow
And the blue of the sky turned grey,
While a veil of deepening twilight
Warned us to haste away,
For the winter nights are bleak
In the wilds by that lonely peak.
[*]Beside the Ocstall
I mused one day beside the Ocstall River
Where trailing mists went drifting softly by;
And waterfalls in thunderous voices calling,
Their vaporous breath raised to a burdened sky.
What mystic spell? what strange compelling passion
Did hold the sons of Britain toiling there?
What charm was there in that great lonely region
Enticing them from distant lands, more fair?
Fantastic cloud wreaths draped a sea of mountains:
Forest and muskeg in the vales held sway;
To win a fortune from those wild surroundings
Men came, then could not from them break away.
They tried the lands where everlasting sunshine
Caressed lush fruits and kissed the waves at play;
But no place gripped them like this western outpost
Where men with large ambitions hewed their way.
It was the challenge to the daring spirit
Of vast resources in their native state.
It was the lure of gold, romance of action,
The chances of success where stakes were great.
[*]Ocstall River--a tributary of the Skeena near its mouth.
Jansen's Curse
'Twas out upon a gold stampede,
And Jan had always planned to lead.
The man who has the greatest might,
He surely must be in the right,
Was part of Jansen's creed;
For very skookum[1] was this man,
Built on a most ambitious plan;
But with a domineering trait,
Would have his own, no other way;
And often had been heard to say:
"I'll be no 'also ran.'"
The river trip he hoped to make
With an old-timer nicknamed Jake,
Who'd hired a canoe;
And with a bunch of sourdoughs[2]
Intended, e're the river rose
In flood, to push on through.
This man soon got himself disliked
As up the rapid stream they piked
And oft by rapids lined.
His overbearing ways were met
With keen expressions of regret
He'd not been left behind.
At length the crew a village saw
Of Indians who had a store
In goods where Jan did trade.
The others knew their chance at last
They could not get away too fast
When off ashore he'd strayed.
They threw his pack out on the bank,
Their late companion's health they drank
With hopes they'd never meet;
But Jan, their move when he realized,
Came hurrying greatly surprised,
And flushed with angry heat.
Some most profane remarks he made
And said that he was not afraid
To thrash the blooming crew,
Their ancestors were not forgot,
He hoped old Nick would make it hot
For any that he knew.
One parting curse did Jan call down,
He hoped they all would surely drown
Before they reached their goal;
The waters be their winding sheet,
That Hell would raise a double heat
To welcome every soul.
Then taking up his pack he set
His face towards the trail that yet
Along the river ran.
But soon the blazes were no more,
His path was barred by creeks, a score,
Which now no bridges span.
He felled the towering cottonwood,
That graceful by the river stood,
To bridge each torrent wide.
But longest spans were swept away,
By the wild waters in their play
At the last creek he tried.
So plunging in the torrent wild
Which swept him helpless as a child,
He braved its swollen tide.
While raced along a branch he caught,
That, waving from the shore long sought,
Was like an arm outstretched.
He pulled himself hand over hand
Until his feet could feel the sand
By eddying currents fetched.
His pack was soaked with water through,
There was no trail ahead he knew,
But still kept on his way;
And with determination strong
Struggled the beach and cliffs along
While held the light each day.
At length he reached the little creek,
The which he had set out to seek,
And found some partners there.
They had begun to pan the sand
Which proved to be a golden strand
At last to them laid bare.
One day in camp the word went round
That Jake and all his crew had drowned
Between the canyon walls.
Their staunch canoe was seen upturned
Where white the boiling rapids churned
Below the waterfalls.
* * * *
Small wonder if Jan's conscience woke
And if that moral guardian spoke
In accusation strong
Against the words he had let fall,
Beyond the power of recall,
To get revenge for wrong.
[1]Skookum--a Chinook word, meaning strong.
[2]Sourdough--a seasoned prospector.
The Survey Cook
Deep in the Sunset Valley
Ill fortune had detained;
Bacon and beans were finished;
Of flour, none remained.
But now with tents and blankets,
Facing the backward track,
All hands were feeling cheerful
Save the cook--his looks were black.
They'd packed across the mountains
Where trails were never known,
Through leagues of heavy timber
And rock slides overgrown;
Had bridged the swollen torrents
By felling trees across;
And scrambled through the canyons
That walled the river's course.
The horses of the pack train
Had died in dark despair
When brought to face the prospect
Of using goat trails there;
So man a beast of burden
Himself was forced to be;
The crew packed grub and blankets
And the cook the cutlery,
The dishpans and the kettles,
The basins and a pot,
A battered old reflector,
Cups, bowls and plates, Great Scott!
Cymbals and drums weren't in it
When cook did have a spill;
The crash of warlike music
Echoed from hill to hill
As down his pack came bounding,
Spurning the canyon walls,
Scattering pots and dishes,
Leaping the waterfalls.
The packers looked in terror
To see the cook come too
As past their dizzy erie
The clanging luggage flew;
When anxiously they hailed him,
The cook, he only swore:
"If I survive this picnic
So help me--nevermore."
A Raid on the Seal Rookeries
The tale was told by a hunter bold
Of a sealing schooner's crew,
Of a midnight raid where the breakers played
On reefs that the offing strew.
"In Behring Sea they tell," said he,
"How Hansen, in the 'Adele,'
Waiting for night, with never a light,
Dared the reefs and ocean swell.
"A rascal bold, in misdeeds grown old,
He had raided far and wide;
But never before in the sealers' lore
Had the Pribilof[1] reefs been tried.
"But an Aleut[2], by his sealskin boot
And the grave of his father, swore
For a keg of booze and a pair of shoes
To sell their secret, and more.
"So Hansen knew to a yard or two
Where the hidden ledges ran;
And the breakers' roar on the reefs and shore
Were guides to the daring man.
"The trailing kelp and a flash might help
Where the phosphorus burned bright,
For the deed was done past set of sun
When the stars were hid from sight.
"The schooner's kedge to a rocky ledge,
By a hempen cable tied,
With silent stealth, for the raiders' health,
Was lowered overside.
"Then with muffled oars they reached the shores
Near a crowded rookery;
Where the voice of seals, in loud appeals,
Drowned the moan of wind and sea.
"There were clubbed ten score and some dozens more
Of the seals which in panic came
Like frightened sheep before the sweep
Of the raiders' far-flung chain;
"For they took their stand, where the rocky land
Slopes down to the surf-worn beach,
To intercept the herd that swept
Like a torrent, the sea to reach.
"Their dories lay in a tiny bay
On a bit of sandy shore;
And they loaded seals by heads or heels
Till the boats would hold no more.
"On many a trip to the little ship
The skiffs went back and fore,
Till she streamed with blood in a crimson flood
From the deck to the cabin door.
"The seals were piled in confusion wild
On deck, by a seaman there;
While the hold was stored and the cabin floored
Whenever he'd time to spare,
"For they had to sail before the pale
Light came of a breaking day;
Lest the sealing guard should follow hard
And capture them with their prey."
* * * *
"In the dawn's pale light that followed the night
The sealing guard went round;
But the bloody turf, by the edge of the surf,
Was the only sign they found;
"For a curtain fell on the Behring swell
And hid the schooner's flight;
But they lay the blame on Hansen's name
For the lawless deeds that night."
[1]Pribilofs--a group of islands in Behring Sea, where the fur
seal breeds.
[2]Aleut--a native of the Aleutian Islands.
The Coast of British Columbia
On the far stretching coast of B. C.,
Where the hills and the seas interlace,
Is a cruising ground yet unexcelled,
Where the yachtsman can loiter or race.
And for those that of danger a spice
Or variety's pleasures would know,
There's a limitless sea to the west
Where the free ocean breezes do blow.
There are harbours and fiords on a coast
That is thousands of miles in extent;
And new scenes that its windings unfold
Fill those that explore with content.
Vancouver
Vancouver, Vancouver,
Vancouver we'll sing all the way.
Far away we may roam, but Vancouver's our home
We remember, wherever we stray.
Vancouver, Vancouver,
In summer time all the day long
To sea we will roam, for afloat we're at home
So we sway on our halyards with song.
Vancouver, Vancouver,
The open gateway of the West.
Her harbour's the port where vessels resort
Of pleasure or profit in quest.
Vancouver, Vancouver,
Her mountains a wonderland hold,
Where the Lions on guard, carved in rock grey and hard,
Have stood sentry for ages untold.
Vancouver, Vancouver,
Of seamen intrepid we'll sing:
Vancouver and Cook, great explorers, who took
Possession in name of their king.
Victoria, B.C.
Bud of England grafted
On a western tree,
Favoured by the breezes
Of a temperate sea.
Roses in the gardens
Greet thy Christmastide,
Broom upon the headlands
Gilds the ocean side.
In thy dreamy moments
Thou didst plan to be
Queen upon the islands
By the western sea.
Paolo's Virginia
A SPRING PHANTASY
Cast
Kelpies
Frosties
Fairies
Paolo
Virginia
Cupid
SCENE I.
SEASHORE AT THE MOUTH OF A CREEK
Paolo--
Heart free, care free and free to roam am I
Wherever fancy leads beneath the sky.
I'll rest awhile and watch the kelpies play,
They will be sporting on the sands to-day.
Perhaps they'll tell me what my heart desires
To know, and Cupid's dart inspires.
[Kelpies come up from the sea and sing in chorus:]
Join with us, dance with us, prance with us
Over the sea.
Roam with us, flee with us, be with us
Where we may be
Sing with us, walk with us, talk with us
Carelessly gay.
Come with us, play with us, stray with us
Where we may stray.
Paolo--
Pray, kelpies, tell me what you find of joy,
In what of work or play your hours employ.
Kelpies' Chorus--
You can sing of the lakes and mountains
And the freedom of open plains;
But for spaces wide and untrammelled
The ocean alone remains.
In the cradle of ocean surges
We rock to heart's content.
We've played on countless beaches
And roam the sea's extent.
1st Kelpie--
The sights that we view on our travels
Are marvels that fill with delight;
But chief is the phosphorescence
Of the foaming seas, at night.
Paolo--
I wish you would tell of those flashes
That are such a wonderful sight.
Phosphorescence
1st Kelpie--
Sparkling and darkling, dust of the milky way,
Shifting and drifting, firefly legions at play;
Fading and glowing, lights of a starry maze,
Coming and going, drift of a luminous haze.
Tangling and spangling the waves with a wealth of light,
Spraying and straying silently through the night;
Dusting and flashing a light in our yeasty wake,
Glowing and splashing wherever the waves we break.
Lacing and tracing the path of the evening breeze,
Blazing and raising a light on the breaking seas;
Ebbing and flowing, an ocean of liquid light,
Finding and showing the reefs in the blackest night.
Paolo--
There's much in what you say appeals to me;
What else may you have learned along the margin of the sea?
1st Kelpie--
There is a cove, secret from passing eyes,
Beautiful as a dream of Paradise;
Where, sheltered from the stormy waves that stray
Unfettered down the sea's wide open way,
The seaman oftentimes doth moor his barque
In shaded bays, peaceful by day or dark.
For there the salty tide finds calm repose,
Sheltered from every boisterous wind that blows;
And ripples, like faint shadows on a glass,
Play lightly where the fitful breezes pass.
Elsewhere the mirrored shores inverted stand,
Trees foot to foot, hand clasping hand;
And all the flitting clouds their faces see,
Till sea and sky seem one in harmony.
In that well guarded spot few sounds intrude
To mar the quiet of its solitude.
The beat of surges at the entrance seems
A distant murmur from the land of dreams;
While crickets chirruping and song birds gay,
From valley and from hillside sound their lay.
Four miles of coastline do those arms surround
Of cliff and delta, wood and open ground;
Where stately fir and cedar trees are seen
In contrast with the lighter shades of green;
While on the rocks thick moss and lichen grow,
And rough arbutus shrubs their shadows throw.
When sunset edges all the clouds with gold,
And sea and shore with jewelled wealth untold,
Those rocky cliffs a fitting setting form
To hold that gem of ocean (safe in storm);
And changing lights, warm and elusive, wear
To match the shading of the sea and air.
A maid lives there, who often roams this way;
We're here to greet her when she comes to-day.
[Enter Virginia.]
Kelpies--
Virginia, come and play with us awhile;
Come, be our queen and on our revels smile.
Or if we may but help you o'er the stream,
Our labours shall a moment's frolic seem.
Virginia--
Kelpies, too long you've roamed on mischief bent:
Too long you've made the sky your nightly tent.
I've oft been warned to shun your careless way
And from your pranks and revels warned to stay.
I dare not try to cross the swollen tide
Unless some stronger arm is close beside.
[Paolo approaches]
Permit my arm to be this guide and stay:
Pray give me leave to help you on your way.
Virginia--
Kind sir, if you will take me by the hand,
I'll thank you to assist to that far strand.
No--Don't you lift me up--I didn't mean--
Well--If you must--
[Carried over]
How strong your arms have been.
Paolo--
Virginia, did I hear the kelpies say?
Yes, that's my name. What is your own, I pray?
Call me Paolo, and if I may be
Of any further help fair maid to thee,
Allow me to attend you on your way.
Virginia--
Thank you, I need no further help to-day.
[Exit Virginia.]
Kelpies--
Join with us, dance with us, prance with us
Over the sea.
Roam with us, flee with us, be with us
Where we may be.
Paolo, turning from looking after Virginia--
I'm in no mood to join your frolics now;
Perhaps some other day you'll show me how
You ride the combers on the ocean swell.
I must be going now, Kelpies farewell.