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The Last West and Paolo's Virginia By: G. B. Warren |
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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... Continue reading book >>
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