Authors, American -- 19th century -- Biography; Authors, American -- 20th century -- Biography; Garland, Hamlin, 1860-1940
On the day appointed the Morris automobile called for us and took us to
the train, and when the children found that they were to travel in a
private pullman and that the stateroom was to be their own little house
they were transported with pride. Thereafter they knew nothing of heat
or dust or weariness. Their meals came regularly, and they went to bed
in their berths with warbles of satisfaction.
The plains of the second day's travel absorbed them. The prairie dogs,
the herds of cattle, the cactus blooms all came in for joyous
recognition. They had read about them: now here they were in actuality.
"Are those the mountains?" asked Mary Isabel as we came in sight of the
buttes of Eastern Wyoming. "No, only hills," I replied.
Then, at last, came the Big Horns deep blue and lined with snow. Mary
Isabel's eyes expanded with awe. "Oh, they are so much finer than I
expected them to be," she said, and from that moment, she gave them her
adoration. They were papa's mountains and hence not to be feared. "Are
we really going up there?" she asked. "Yes," I replied pointing out
Cloud Peak, "we shall go up almost directly toward that highest mountain
of all."
At a camp just above Big Horn City we spent a month of just the sort of
riding, trailing and camping which I was eager to have my children know,
and in a few days under my instruction, they both learned to sit a horse
in fearless confidence. Mary Isabel, who was eleven, accompanied me on a
ride to Cloud Peak Lake, a matter of twenty miles over a rough trail,
and came into camp almost unwearied. She was a chip of the old block in
this regard, and as I listened to her cheery voice and looked down into
her shining face I was a picture of shameless parental pride. For
several weeks I was able to remain with them and then at last set forth
for Colorado on my lecture tour.
Meanwhile, unsuspected by Americans, colossal armies were secretly
mobilizing in Europe, and on August first, whilst we were on our way
home, the sound of cannon proclaimed to the world the end of one era and
the beginning of another. Germany announced to the rulers of the Eastern
Hemisphere that she intended to dominate not merely the land but the
seas, and in my quiet hotel in a Colorado college town this proclamation
found amazed readers. I, for one, could not believe it--even after my
return to Chicago in August, while the papers were shouting "War! War!"
I remained unconvinced. Germany's program seemed monstrous, impossible.
The children and their mother arrived two days later and to Zulime I
said "Father is patiently waiting for us and in the present state of
things West Salem seems a haven, of rest. We must go to him at once."
She was willing and on August six, two days after England declared war,
the old soldier met us, looking thin and white but so happy in our
coming that his health seemed miraculously restored.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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