The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of WondersRathborne, St. George
General
The Pioneer Boys of the Yellowstone; or, Lost in the Land of Wonders
Rathborne, St. George
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Yellowstone National Park -- Juvenile fiction
"We'll soon begin to believe in those stories the red men tell of the
Evil Spirits that live in this enchanted valley," laughed Dick, who
seemed determined not to allow himself to be dismayed by anything
wonderful they might encounter in their wanderings.
"I'm getting that way even now, Dick. I tell you, it wouldn't surprise
me very much if we ran upon one of those monsters they say used to live
in America centuries and centuries ago, much larger than an elephant. I
only hope my rifle speaks true, if ever I have to face anything like
that!"
Leaving the hot spring behind them, they pushed on along the trail made
by Jasper Williams's party. Doubtless those three men were also filled
with wonder at what they saw. Roger more than once expressed doubt as
to whether they would have the courage to continue their explorations
much further, surrounded as they found themselves by such marvelous
freaks of nature.
"It wouldn't surprise me if we met them hurrying back out of here," he
told his companions. "Jasper himself is a bold spirit, but I have a
poor opinion of the two other men with him. I believe they are inclined
to be superstitious, like the Indians, and these things are enough to
make the flesh creep."
Here and there, as openings occurred, they could catch glimpses of
distant peaks that looked like cathedral spires in the gilding rays
of the sun. Dick was drinking in these pictures with eagerness, for
the boy had something of the artist in his nature. He could appreciate
such glorious works wrought by the deft hand of nature more fully than
Roger, who saw rather the practical side of the picture.
Once, during that morning tramp, Roger did receive a fright. It did
not come from any threatened attack on the part of a ferocious wild
beast, nor yet through his narrow escape from falling into some pit
where strange, gurgling, mysterious sounds oozed forth. On the contrary
it was just because it started to snow furiously, so that the whole
landscape was blotted out.
"That settles it, Dick," he exclaimed, in sheer disgust, "we're done
for now. The only thing left us is to head as best we may for the place
we believe the Valley of Wonders lies, and which we must be close to,
right now."
"You are in too big a hurry, Roger," his cousin told him. "Just because
a few flakes chance to come down is no proof that we are in for a
storm. Look up and you will see the blue sky over yonder. It is only a
passing squall, and soon over with, so cheer up."
His prophecy proved true, because in another minute the snow ceased
to fall, and out came the welcome sun again, to once more paint the
hillsides with his wondrous brush, and stripe them with rainbow tints.
"You must own up that most of our troubles come and go like that,"
commented Dick. "At first they seem to be dark and heavy, but all at
once the sun breaks out, and we forget the gloomy past. It ought to be
a lesson to you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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