PS 3523 .044 P5 1906 Copy 1 PLET flMBOllRNE. x^'^^^ PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH PT I... LAN!! wdiqaiJiioi'?; .«i»ii^&^^Ai^£i^ieilidig^i^^ ^ Frontispiece PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH BY ALFRED LAMBOURNE NEW YORK Dodge Publishing Company. igo6 Printed for the author. Copyright, 1891, 1894, 1906, by Alfred Lambourne LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Received DEC 18 1905 , Ospyiight Entry j CLASS A XXc, No. COPY i1 TO HOLD FROM OBLIVION AWHILE, AND TO PRESENT TO MY CHILDREN, THE MEMORY OF HOURS PASSED AT THE PLACE DESCRIBED HEREIN AS OUR HOME LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS By HIRAM PUTNAM BARNES " Our Home stood in a hollow near the mountain top " Frontispiece PAGE " Re-echoed from the snow-clad mountains round " lo " We stood and gazed in silence " i8 " What time their nags came o'er the hollow's rim " . 28 " Now there's a picture I can ne'er forget " ... 32 "For then we danced; yes, danced and danced again " 38 " Our Home was wrecked by slides " 56 " Was he, then, somewhere near ? " 60 " Across ice-bridges o'er the deep-made rifts " .64 " V/here on the flat the snow lay cold and deep " . .72 " Our snow-shoes sent the spray from off our heel " 76 " Those blasts by which his joy the miner tells, And which we used in lieu of wedding bells " , .80 PLET: A CHRISTMAS TALE OF THE WASATCH TALE from out my western life you say? Something to while the Christmas Eve away; And something, too, to suit this festal time. With two old bachelors, long past their prime, Who as they sip in solitude their wine. Are filled with memories of Auld Lang Syne? Well, — I grant it. Yet why did you add. Something to suit the time? I shall be glad — But was the last a tongue slip? Let it go. Still, why I asked, the tale will clearly show. As I proceed and still you care to hear, You^ll find it suits this night of all the year. 7 pltt Oh, yes! to fill your wish I*m full inclined, I need but voice the thoughts within my mind. And then the task's completed. All comes back On every Christmas Eve, I never lack Of food for thought. That time I'll ne'er forget In future years, though distant may be set My time for going. When my younger mate — But why as writers say — anticipate? You'll find the tale, perhaps, a trifle sad, When every dictum says it should be glad. And — hope the last will not astonish you — Once in a while a little preachy, too. And mixed with love, a subject — well, heigh, ho ! Something that we are not supposed to know. 8 PART FIRST Re-echoed from the snow-clad mountains round bfiiim aniBtnuocn bdo-wong 9rit raoi^ bsorias-afl {•i?W§M ■S f ,i|ip ]RASH ! crash ! ! crash ! ! ! A heavy, thun- derous sound, Re-echoed from the snow-clad moun- tains round. Then shrieks and voices hoarse came through the night And far below we saw the lantern^s light, — It was the slides again ! Through misty damp. We hastened downward to the stricken camp. The Christmas Eve ! Ill time had chosen Fate To work her will and joy annihilate! Women and children lay beneath that snow, And many a bronzed cheek was touched with woe. Think not those men who toil amid the hills Lack generous fire that noble bosom fills. II 0Ut Their hearts are tender and then: hearts are true, Their sympathies come quick as mountain dew. I've been at many rescues ; seen the tears Fill manly eyes, when hope came after fears. Seen cheeks turn pale, as from their prisons deep. Crushed, lifeless forms were lifted in last sleep: As some dear comrade, thought past hope, beneath The hard-pack'd snow, was found to live — to breathe. Oh, true those brawny delvers of the mines. Though in their fashion they are rough at times ! Have you ever seen a snow-slide? — No? Ah! oft I've wished their pictures to outgrow! I've drunk a drop or two the thoughts to drown, 'Tis hard, sometimes, to keep emotion down. Soon we had rescued four ; and found three — dead ; A father, mother, child. The cradle-head Stood by the shattered wall, and close there hung — Not one but felt his heart with pity wrung — The child's blue, tiny stocking. On the man Lay the roof -tree ; we hardly dared to scan 12 i^et With sidelong glance the sight. But wife nor child The snow had marr'd, for still the mother smiled ; The little hands were clasped as if in prayer — As lisped words but echoed mother's there, Or as the thoughts were filled with visions bright, Of what the eyes should see at dawn of light. Alas! those eyes would open never more; How quick their time for smiles and tears was o'er! The clasped hands that toy should never lift Saint Nicholas had brought for Christmas gift. And so we worked, and ere the darkness fled Six others we had placed among the dead. But none we found were living. Nine there lay All stark upon the snow, that black night's prey. Where it would end, there was no time to ask, As steadily we held the grewsome task. We did our best ^ I'm over sixty now. And strife with Fortune early lined my brow — So I, when overcome with labor sheer, A lantern held or uttered words of cheer. 13 jl^ te t At last we reached them — all too late it seemed, So pale their faces as the cold morn gleamed. Around the father's neck her arms were flung, As if in terror from her couch she sprung, When first upon her ears came, faint and low, The distant rumble of the loosened snow. Lovely she lay in her long, broidered robe. Her brown hair rippling o'er each argent globe Of her ripe bosom's wealth. A long lash press'd Silken on either cheek. Even when oppressed By death's close presence — she was lovely then, But still more lovely as those days came when Her cheeks with health were red, and in her eye The light of friendship shone, and, by and by. The tender look of love. No wonder Jo Lost then and there his heart. The girl to know Was prelude sure to loving. Wonderful Indeed, had he not loved her. And a full And generous destiny appeared to say. You'll stand together on your Wedding Day. Whene'er I saw them happy side by side, 14 fJ^A My foolish heart said, **Jo has found his bride." Perhaps when hearths for heart, there is a Hnk We do not understand. I sometimes think Love called to love from Death's dark portico — Or else what urged the lad to labor so? Twas he who, reverent, raised her in his arms. All mute at her sweet face and maiden charms. My full beUef it was that from the grave The girl had come to wed my boy so brave. But not so fast, old Time has chastened me. For who can tell what Fate will say, shall be ! Yes, once again the story all revives — Strange part the Christmas Eve played in their lives! O II UR Home — that is our cabin, Jo's and mine, A single room to dwell in, sleep or dine. Stood in a hollow near the mountain top, 15 let Where massive walls the blue sky seemed to prop. A stern, bleak, strange, a lonely rugged place From whence down-looking one could distant trace The far-sunk caiion and the ledges damp That sloped toward the little mining camp. A Babylonish pile at one end rose On which lay through the year the spkal snows; And at the other, lichened, richly mossed. Inlaid by nature's hand, all wild up-tossed, A mass of terraces did steeply lean. While ttmibled debris lay these heights between. And higher still the hoary mountain passed Into a peak, all naked, pale, and vast ; Bleached into gray, but marked with mineral stain The source of which it was our hope to gain. So thus we tunneled and did slow proceed, Striving from day to day to reach " the lead." Across the debris lay a zig-zag track Our feet had made in climbing up and back. And 'tween our claim and cabin, lost in sleep, A mountain lake lay cold, and dark, and deep. i6 tl>let Three years we lived there — in that hollow stern, The mountain's sights and voices well did learn. Peered down the ledges sunk in watery gloom, Beheld the flowers that exhaled rich perfume. By the lake margin they in myriads grew — Unfolded there the starry asters blue; Around each boulder, ere the snow was old. Came gleaming buttercups in rings of gold; Where swift the gathered waters fell away, Forget-me-nots were drenched in crystal spray. The mimulus, the brush, geraniums bright. Lit up the shadows with a sunny light. [plaint. These sounds we heard — the new-born torrent's The bird-like chirp of hidden squirrel faint; And others, too, uncanny, savage, wild — [aisled. The wind that fiend-like shrieked 'mong rocks all Anon, oh, dreadful sound! the thunder-peal. When e'en the giant mountain seemed to reel. Sometimes the echo of a distant blast — Which sound of promise made our hearts beat fast — Full many a sound that made our bosoms swell; 17 0tct Oh, yes, we learned to know the mountains well! But who was Jo? We met upon the slope When I, at least, was well-nigh without hope. I'd struggled long — it was my fate, you see — Had been held down by dark adversity. But from the moment I met Jo — 'twas change, Then from my life began an upward range. Upon the cliffs of purple, iron-gray. Heavy and wan, the clouds held fast that day. The Tower of Babel, in the thick murk gloom'd, Like to a mighty, spectral shadow loom'd Dim, black, gigantic, save for lines of snow Reflected vaguely in the lake below. And clouds as heavy on the peak did rest. While vapors white lay wild along each crest. 'Twas ominous truly, but sudden — lo, behold ! The sunbeams darted through the thick enfold. And then was transformation ! 'Twas a sign — An omen surely good, I did divine. We stood and gazed in silence. All the moss i8 o o ex PO N fsie, vo taut Seemed turned to emerald fire by the cross Of slanting sunbeams. Silver flash they gave To edge of every shoreward lapping wave. And then the flowers! As by magic turned, Each rain- wet leaf as topaz, ruby, burned! Oh, 'twas inspiring! But why more recite? Our friendship dated from that glorious sight. I thought that Fortune dealt anew the cards. When Jo consented to try luck as "pards." Nor did I rue it. 'Twas a well-fought game. Ere that day ended we had staked a claim. Led by a hope not easy to dispel. We built our hut by that deep mountain well. And there we lived. All gloomy thoughts we quelled. Believed success was in the future held. Oft we would sit beside our cabin door. Each chance of winning look at o'er and o'er; And as we lit and smoked a friendly pipe, We'd boast how Fortune's hair we'd tightly gripe. We saw the yellow twilight in the west 19 H&let Grow dim and fade upon the mountain's breast. Oft when the lake and crags had turned to jet, The moon came up and found us watchers yet. Dear lad, I loved him truly as my life, — In those three years we passed no word of strife ; I played the father, he was like a son. Alas ! the end to that so well begun ! A curious fact — and why not tell it here? Though you may think it just a little queer — I wished when my time came, and I lay dead. Within that hollow, Jo should make my bed. In some strange way — I scarce can make it clear, Nor in my hopefulness should it appear — That one of us would live to see his mate The labors of his life there terminate. And so, in shelter that a dwarfed pine gave With mental sight I saw my cone-strewn grave. Yet nothing said to give to Jo distress, And — let an ending come to this digress — I wish to make this truth appear quite plain, 20 0let Twas Jo I thought of more than hope of gain. Brave lad! There shone within his honest eye A daring will to conquer or to die. Perhaps Hwas that endeared him to me so, His fiery youth — and I so tame and slow. Besides my past had all been a mistake, While golden promise said to him. Awake! We started different, I had lost my chance. The future bade him boldly to advance. It seemed to me to take but little guess To know that Jo would make of life success. Ill ND Plet — for later so we found her name The very idol of the camp became ; A roguish, wilful, tomboy, sparkling girl. As ever set a lover's brain awhirl. Full of all tricks, yet gold without alloy. The pride of all, and all her father's joy. 21 iMcJ And modest, too. Her cheek with blushes burned, That day we heard how she her pet name earned. *'You see," her father said, in merry mood, W'Tiile Plet sought quick our glances to elude, '* 'Twas this way," here her face he downward drew, **We found it well to cut your name in two. Yes, darling, in those days that now are fled We Pretty called you, ' Pletty ' your lips said. As Pretty were you, Pletty you became. And soon would answer to no other name. But in good time the * Pletty ' came to ' Plet,^ The name we christened you I half forget. This hair of brown was then all golden curls. Ere you had grown most naughty of all girls. Before this time, when you all care repay. With wicked guiles that turn my old head gray. " Then Plet indulged in charming smile and pout — That she was "papa's darling" none could doubt. She was his all upon life's pilgrimage, A golden letter saved from vanished page, 22 #lct She promised solace of his closing years, A hope that came from out a time of tears : Of children born to him the first and last, The image of her well-loved mother passed. Such Plet — whose noble, sympathetic heart Had others caused to live a better part; A petticoated, pranksome, daring scamp, The dainty hoyden of a mining camp. 23 PART SECOND IV |0 was pure-minded. He possessed a force That kept him always from the low and coarse ; If ugly vice and sin upon him frowned, With head erect he firmly held his ground. When siren Pleasure spread her silken net He was not caught, nor made a conscience debt. They found he was not of their kind — those men. Who sought the brothel, drink-shop, gambling-den. No goody-goody — it was known at length His action came from courage and from strength. And those who made a test were sure to find His virtues were not of the meaner kind, They came from purity and clean desires. 27 t&ut Not lack of passions strong, nor manly fires. *Twas on a bright and noble summer day, When fast the winter snow-drifts ebbed away ; The cloudless sky was like a crystal dome, When Plet and father stood within "Our Home." All nature blended in one vast, grand hymn What time their nags came o'er the hollow's rim. We saw them coming from our perch on high — How quick the love-light sprang in poor Jo's eye! We hastened downward, Jo well on before. And met them ere they reached the cabin door. Their nags were hitched beneath a mighty spruce One grizzled, storm-worn arm stretched out for use And then — Oh ! great, indeed, was Plet's delight. When first she gazed upon the Babel height ! No less the gloom, the aged savageness. Impressed her fancy than the gorgeous dress. Brief summer lends to that high altitude Between the fierce assaults of winter rude. The solitude upon her senses wrought, 28 What time their naps came o'er the hollow's rim •: ax pr w na t '^id noble ^t • snow-' 3SS sky was like a ct7p;ta! dome, and father stood ^r Home.*' upon tiie jaci kit At^ ^l tt Each novel sight some exclamation brought! We showed her" Dead Man's Corner," where was found A hapless miner dead and wrapped around With the same chilly shroud as on the day, The ridge he tried — by snow was swept away. Yet this — although it brought a pretty sigh — But for a moment put her gay mood by. The wonders of " Our Home " the girl beguiled And made her buoyant as a happy child. Then came a banquet. After that steep ride — Plet's skill equestrienne none in camp denied — What better than a tempting dish of fruit, — So true the wild our mood did try and suit. The visit to " Our Home " was timely sure, Those strawberries were fit for epicure. Among the creviced rocks the plants were spread. The just ripe berries hanging rich and red; And these we gathered. At their friendly board, In every cheer and rich abundance stored, We often sat. So now we gave our mite, 29 10 t e t Their many pleasant favors to requite. And yet to our desires how poor and mean, How all inadequate the gift did seem. And then came out — they seemed to think it sport — Our two tin plates, it was our only sort. But Plet's deft fingers quick transition made. With fresh green leaves in starry pattern laid — And while she praised the wild fruits* luscious taste We thought how she our rustic dwelling graced. The life of the prospector — lonely 'tis ! No venture free from daily hazard his. But one of steady, hard, and daring toil He must meet danger, nor from care recoil; To unforeseen and sudden risks exposed. No cease from vigil keen his labor knows. And sudden wealth of all his thoughts the theme, He works, too, in a sort of waking dream. Thus the impressions he from nature drew Results in good and manly impulse true. 30 0let Ah ! one thing seemed to me exceeding plain — The sequel showed my fear was not in vain — That Fate had set for this young pair a trap ! Why, any townish, high-bred, polished chap Had thought himself in fortune all the while Could he have shared that day and Plet's sweet smile And weighing this — depend upon't 'twas so, — Think what it was for lonely, honest Jo! His blue eyes sparkled, one could easy trace The happy thoughts upon his sunburnt face. Did it mean joy, or would it bring regret — Might Jo rue sometime that he e'er saw Plet? That he had nobly served them, that is true. They kept the thought nor gratitude outgrew; He'd striven hard their lives to save, and still — No matter how full strong his hope or will. How rich his manly love might prove or pure — This fact remained, my Jo was very poor. What right had he to think of such a mate. One far above him in this world's estate? But he was worthy of her, free from blame, 31 ^Itt Though Fortune played the lad a niggard game ! In spite of every drawback, this I knew, And hoped the jade would sometime play him true ; For poor or no poor, I could only feel The chance was good if she but turned her wheel. Now there's a picture I can ne'er forget; After these years I seem to see it yet : The figures you can guess were Plet and Jo, With background made of rocks, and lake, and snow; The girl half leaned upon a granite block. Her roguish smile my poor Jo seemed to mock, Part pity, part enjo5rment, I believe — V/hat silly stuff I did in my head weave — And Jo, in timid and in bashful way — 'Twas like a scene I once saw in a play. Offered a bunch of flowers. And his face. As he bent forward, not without a grace. Glowed with confusion and with passion new As his strong heart and his strong brain were true. I'd better stop, I grow nonsensical. — 32 Now, there's a picture I can ne*er forget i* ii iiiic i}u\ tuicifiu .'iCi Y-, :^t; Gl'.>w/:^ with - and ^ ;. new were true. ^Itt A monster ledge served both for pedestal, Jo in his earth-stained garments, heavy boot, Plet in her jaunty hat and riding suit. Did I admire them so? Why so it seems. And even an old man has his need of dreams. A charming picture — so I think, at least, That couple standing where the wave released Fell down the mossy rocks in sparkling foam. The wild flowers growing from the moist, rich loam, And from the sun and pines mosaic shed 0*er Plet's fair form and Jo's uncovered head. A landscape setting, beautiful and grand! The purple epilobiums in Jo's hand — Frail, tender blossoms, delicate and sweet. How strange to see them in that wild retreat ! — Were fitting emblems, in their sudden birth. To soft enwrap and gladden the cold earth, Of that sweet office a true love fulfils. Whose wondrous budding all the being thrills — Of that enchantment grown between those two. The fond desire their hearts together drew! 33 FTER that day to Jo there came a change, — Not that I thought the fact so very strange — For love had come, oh ! that was plain to see, And from the first I felt 'twas a decree. I knew Jo found a heart that Plet had lost, And only feared then* love might be ill-crossed. Perhaps the boy was not without his hopes The eve that Plet returned adown the slopes. Now he abstracted grew and walked alone, To fits of silent reverie was prone. That he had been a talker don't constrain, Jo never was a glib-tongued rattle-brain. For hours in silence to his work he'd stick, Wielding the heavy hammer or the pick ; And I'll confess that I myself kept still. No time to talk much, holding to the drill. 34 naiet But at those times that weM a moment quit, And pass a word to cheer us up a bit, I noticed that his speech was but to ask Concerning work — some detail of our task. And evenings, too, as moody as a churl He'd sit and watch his pipe-smoke upward curl. Sometimes his gaze on vacancy he'd fix, — And well I knew the young god played his tricks, — And if I spoke, some thought wished to impart, 'Twas all unheard, or answered with a start. What all this meant — who could mistake the sign? 'Twas plain to see as three times three are nine. So at our claim we kept; he worked as though A wealth must come, whether it would or no. A new life dwelt within my partner's breast — If my prayers answered, then 'twas surely blessed — But in that present 'twas a torture, too. His question was — what course can I pursue? Were not his hopes but built upon the sand — Could one so poor expect to gain Plet's hand? 35 jaut And constantly this thought his brain did seize — Had not sweet Plet been used to every ease? This truth stared out — a common miner he, — Alas ! for him, a rich man's daughter she ! So his dark moods I clearly understood. Persistent thought that all would end in good. Pretending not to see, I smoked my pipe, And thought, 1*11 live to see the time grow ripe. In proper time I knew that Jo would speak. As in the twilight I would watch him seek — To him I guess 'twas fairest of all bowers — The spot where he had offered Plet the flowers. Oft when eve's shadows deepened into nights. He'll look adown the slopes and watch the lights That we could see within the distant camp. Hoping, I knew, to see one special lamp — Which hope was more than frequent not in vain - The one that burned behind Plet's window pane. Yes, he had grown as fond as any dove ; Beyond a doubt, poor Jo was deep in love ! 36 VI ^ir^^URRAH! hurrah! And true beyond a doubt! I p Hurrah! hurrah! Had we not cause to shout? She turned her wheel, the changeful, fickle witch; Yes, beyond doubt, we too had "struck it rich"! The blind lead we had followed many a day. Suddenly widened to the best of "pay." 'Twas purest carbonates. We had enough. Thousands were ours in that black, gritty "stuff"! How did it serve us? You are bound to ask. How did we take that climax to our task? Twas hard to answer. As I said before, Jo looked at wealth as though heM force the door. But when he saw the end so near him lie. He dazed appeared and heaved a heavy sigh. Jo seemed as one just woke from sleep, and — well, As though a burden from his shoulders fell. 37 jl&let And unto me it came as a surprise ; We stood and stared with dry and eager eyes. A pan of dirt we picked and carried where Our brows could feel a touch of cool, fresh air. I felt my temples throb, my eyeballs bum, My blood alternate ice or fire turn ; I well remember how we held our breath, Talked hushed and low as in a house of death. And then we shouted — shouted long and loud, Shouted as though with brazen lungs endowed ; Shouted until each voice was weak and hoarse, Until the wild bird fluttered in his course ; Shouted until our friends in gray and tan — Across the rocks the fat ground squirrels ran; Until, as though heM like to join the game. An answering echo from " Old Babel " came. Nor was that all, I*m half ashamed to tell The things we did beneath that sudden spell — For then we danced ; yes, danced and danced again, Till I from weariness to rest was fain ! 38 o a. o pa P P> a E3 P9 '4 ?» ♦O' bum, i: