P S 571 A4 P5 1891 MAIN LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA GIRT OR Received , 190 Accession No. O % Q / J . Class No. m^ -ON- ^m DESCRIPTIVE. PERSONAL, HUMOROUS. BY AUTHORS KBSIBiNG IN THETEE11T01Y. MaHed Postpaid on Receipt of $1.00. Alaskan Office, Sitka, Alaska. ILLUSTRATED. ASK AX P1UNT, SITKA. ALASKA. nur -ON- DESCRIPTIVE, PERSONAL. HUMOROUS. BY ABT10ES RESIDING IK TIE TE1IX!Y ILLUSTRATED. ALASKAN PRINT, SITKA, ALASKA. ?zo 77 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1891, by MAURICE E. KENEALY AND WALTER B. PORTER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. P357I HAIL AND FAREWELL! Brief no mers to our Northern Isle From sunnier lands of balm and bloom, We hold your hands a little while, Then s'.iy good bye, ah! oversoon. We give you greeting such an they Can only give who exiled long, Environed by the ocean grey. Have learned its wild iveird song. The freedom of our rocky shores Whereon wild Arctic storms are hurled, And sea bloivn spray in^salt rain pours On this rude outpost of tfyeworld; The ivitching greenery of the wood, Where sunshine falls on mount and glen, Writing a language understood fty those who love their fellow men; The tender bloom of un-named flowers, Which blossoming in beauty rare, Outline thefeiv and happy hours When they look heavenward in prayer; The rippling of the glacier stream, Whiuh hurruinj seawird strong and fleet, Like a glad voice heard in a dream, Murmurs a music soft and sweet; Are all for thee,for thcc and thine, By Nature's hand so grandly set, Like jewels in this far off clime, Our Ouuntrv's Northern coronet. And we, who tarry for a space In this lone land, these verses bring, Assured there is some happy place For wandering birds iv?io try to sing. Some tender hearts which will enshrine These rude songs sung beside the sea, With memories of the present time And other joyous days to be. IllliLllHMlliill lliljlMM.lliltlllinlljltllll.HliiL'lllllllillilllllilillllMllllIillllll'jllllllllAllli ; -Jjg POEMS BY ....!^ Hill Ukmlllki ^'^''^^^^^ ' >'* >> '"^' "' > ' , LEGEND OF BARANOFF CASTLE. Oh ! Castle,, grim and hoary, Shorn of every pristine glory. You will live in song and story Though thy splendors all have flown. While the sad sea winds are singing And the ocean surge up-springing Its briny tears are flinging At thy feet, with solemn moan. Lo ! I catch the silver gleaming Of the sunset gently beaming, As if there were some meaning Borne to thee from out the West: Do departed sons and daughters Talk with thee across the waters? Does the Russian faith they brought us, Bring sweet peace for thine unrest 'I In the stormy, wintry weather. When the shades of evening gather, And the dusky raven leather Of the black night, quickly falls: In the cold and bleak December, Do phantoms, tall and slender. Haunt the places they remember In thy now deserted halls ? Do they come in silks brocaded. Full blown flowers and buds unmated. Maids and matrons all translated From the silent, shadowy land : With their lords and loves beside them, So that none may dare deride them If by day the world descried them Dancing with that ghostly band ? IllU'llil'-II'llilllllll'llil "^ I^HinlJJllLlli '> List ! T hear the music, swelling From this gaunt and ghastly dwelling, AmHhe dancing waves are telling A strange story of the past, The birds iiy low to listen. And the islands seem to glisten, And a weird, uncanny chrism Above all seems overcast. In the days now long departed. Two young lovers, tender hearted. Whose bark of life had started Without heed of time and tide. Kept their trysting in the Castle. Each to each a willing vassal, While the elder folk held wassail. They wandered, side by side While the stormy winds were crying. And the ocean spray was flying. And the wild bird; wen* replying To the thunders of the sea: Bound by love's immortal tether, What cared they for wind and weather? > Sunshine always when together Pledged to truth and constancy. She was the high born daughter Of a Prince across the water. And her watchful father brought her To this far off Northern land. But sweet Fate had overtook her. Love, though blind, could not overlook her. And if all the world forsook her She still owned her heart and hand. And she gave both of them gladly. For she loved her lover madlv. llili l^llliiiilliillliiiilllillliiiilliillliiiUlllllliiiiUjilHiMilliillJiiiillJill liillllimljJllllMiiliJk And she never thought how sadly Could a love so pure and true Be the cause of their undoing Bring the curse of awful ruin; Or that murder, pale, was brewing For them rosemary and rue. He was young and fair, and stately, And he bore himself sedately With a native grace, which greatly Added to his noble mind. No princely race had borne him; No ancestral name hung o'er him; With his future all before him What cared he for days behind f And he loved the Prince's daughter, And not knowing fear, he sought her; Like the tide of ocean water Rose the tide of love in him. When their happy troth was plighted And their red. warm lips united. Like a hero newly knighted, With life's glass tilled to the brim. He felt pledged to high endeavor. Which no time nor change could sever Like the Northern star, forever Would her love shine as his guide. Sung in song, and told in story. Queen of Court, and cam]), and foray, Of his life the crowning glory, What ill fortune could betide f And no thought of dire disaster Made his pulses beat the faster. When his haughty Eussian master Came to him one tateful day; "d" d" And ordered quick repairing For a mission full of daring, With some other brave hearts sharing From the warships in the bay. One long kiss on sweet lips, saintly, Some fond words spoken, faintly; For he loved the Princess quaintly, As men love some far off star. Xo complaint or murmur making. With his true heart almost breaking, Sad and tender love-leave taking. For the glory of the (V.ar. ''Oh ! my love, do not forestall me. For whatever may befall me I shall hear your sweet voice call me Through the intervening space: J shall feel your white arms clinging. And the tears, which now are springing. Are like priceless jewels flinging A new splendor on your face. "Whatever fate may send me. Your sweet love its strength shall lend me And Dame Fortune will befriend me Surely bringing safe return. And wheresoever I wander. Neither time nor change can sunder Those true ties which grow the fonder. While the lamp of life shall burn. | " Though I sail for seas uncharted. All the days that we are parted, . TT IJlHii..illllli liJIl llill! imili.nlUlllli.nlllllllii.illJlllliiMllllllliHiliail Illilllnnllillii.illliillinMllillliMilliilllhnlllilllMnillillliMillliUlHuUlill llk.Mlllk.mllill lllk.nlljillln 4 ' And the promise you have spoken In the past shall not be broken; And I seal it with the token, Sign it with this dagger thrust, We shall never more be parted, But forever single hearted The blood, this sharp knife started, Shall cement united dust." Then the dagger pierced her bosom, And his own life's cord did loosen, And he fell beside his chosen On the polished cedar floor: While, without, the wild waves wailing, Were like mountain demons hailing To phantom vessels sailing Far bevoud the rockv shore. The slow, lapsing years are flitting Round the Castle, grimly sitting Like a yellow old crone knitting With the sombve yarn of fate. All bereft of sons and daughters, Looking out across the waters Toward the far off land which wrought us Such a tale of love and hate. But if any heart undaunted. By Castle's horror haunted, Dare to brave your walls enchanted At this murder's trysting time, Lo ! the Lady and her lover, Where the darkest shadows hover. Will their ghostly forms uncover Till the morning watches .chime. THE MESSENGER BIRD. UK HOVK 7SSWTKT ANT) FL.IKS WITH SWA M.OW'S W I XUS." SH A K KSI'KA KK. A Ii5ii)py bird with a heart of music And tender hopes in his loving breast, Came blithely singing o'er plain and mountain From out of the Golden West. ^ His eager wings bore him strong and bravely To a distant land so tar away That it seemed as if the world forever Would gladden no more to his roundelay. But straight and steady as llighl of arrow. With bright eyes fixed on the goal before, He Hew on his Heaven-inspired mission. This beautiful, bonnie troubadour. Hi' sang some songs on his lonely journey. Which fell on listening ears below. Like music from over the walls of Heaven. .Where the blessed angels walk to and fro. He came to an island sad and lonely. Like a ragged rock in ;i dismal sea: And he found the end of his blissful mission In a heart athirst for his melodv. lllilllH.iUljllliM l Annll^i..i!llibln,illli(l..iMillill illtyih.illikiililllmiAMil^ Olilllliiiallll :l!illlti 9 He sang and sang till the gray mist falling Blossomed in flowers of rainbow hue. As over the mountains the sun's bright lances Came piercing the sea fogs through and through : Till the far North Laud was all a-glitter With the glint of jewels and skies so bine, That it seemed as if the Paradise gardens Had washed the world with their golden dew. And the tired heart on the sea-girt island Beat strong again as the sweet bird's throat Sang songs for him of a bright home somewhere Beyond the hills, in the land of hope. Then the messenger bird, his mission ended, With peace and joy in his loving breast, Spread his brave, strong wings to the winds of Heaven And flew awav toward the Golden West. i L mlJty ...... lilll ..... I dill ...... IJJli HOO-CHI-NOO!* Once upon a midnight woeful, when I wandered homeward, so full That I could not find the key-hole in the door of my domain. Queerly feeling, almost reeling, suddenly there came a squealing, On the solemn silence pealing, like a human soul in pain. '"Tis some little child," I muttered, "crying 'ma-ma," all in vain- Only this with might and main. But the weird, uncanny calling on the midnight watches tailing. Filled me, thrilled me, although surely I was very full before: So, that now to still the beating of my heart, 1 kept repeating "'Tis the 'jim-jams' surely creeping toward me, standing at the door; Barkeep, bring me one drink more!" Presently my heart grew bolder, and I leaned upon my shoulder. There against the battered doorway of my tumble-down abode. "Child, or Cat, or Raven," said I, "if you' 11 stop that awful calling I will drink O! nevermore! Truly I'd been home before If I had not lost the road, carrying my liquid load 'Scat \ou demon, I'll be blowed !" Ah ! distinctly 1 am thinking it was then 1 gave up drinking, For each separate drink I'd drunken threw its ghost upon the way. L Eagerly I tried to enter, but I could not find the center Of the night-latch, and 1 waited for the coining of the day Waited in bewildered fashion for the rising sun to play Making all things bright and gay. ^ 11 Suddenly with startling violence came a voice from out the silence, Crying, ' Lo ! thou carpet-bagger, 1 have caught thee all alone, And 1 bid thee now to hearken, while the midnight shadows darken, So 1 cannot see the fingers clasped upon my own thigh bone List to that sepulchral moan ! Sit thou miserable Yankee, do not stop to say, 'I thank ye,' Thy accursed race did purchase lands which 1 once called my own, And in aggravating manner hung aloft your gridiron banner, Chanting out a proud hossanna, when the Russian Bear had flown Over seas, back to his home ! "But my perturbed spirit staying, all except my bones decaying, Would not leave my Xew Archangel to the care of stranger hands, And each night I go a walking, crying sometimes, seldom talking, But with grim persistence stalking all about these Russian lands Love has burst my coffin bands ! "Here I held supreme dominion, not a law to clip a pinion Of the wings on which I mounted to an autocratic sway; Here I held high court and wassail every man and maid my vassal- Ill yon stoutly builded Castle, ruled in an imperial way; When 1 came. I came to stay ! But your cursed race of traders, worse than any armed invaders. Sung the syren's song of money to the mighty Russian Czar, And in some unguarded minute some one said, 'There's millions in it' - So he sold his people's birth-right sadly dimmed their rising star As rust dims a Samovar ! " But, thou miserable drinker, stop and think if you're a thinker- To this vow which here I utter in the solemn, ghastly dark. If your people do not sunder all their ties here, then by Thunder ! \ will haunt youi visions nightly in this fashion grim and stark; This remember and then mark ! 4 ^ --So forewarned, you know the danger of your people, drunken | stranger: i & t ^^^^^ l!! ittl UilliMi.ltillllm.llilill liiiillni'illi: n4 . ^ I am gentle in my habits though I may seem somewhat rough; All my fleshless bones will rattle if you do not take each chattel And forever get thee henceward. Stranger, I am Bar-e-nought Somewhat noted as a tough !." Then upon the solemn silence he had broken with such violence, Fell a sudden hush, and nowhere from the mountains or the sea Came a single whisper, only one poor Raven, sad and lonely, Sitting on a hemlock tree, from the darkness cawed at me 'Can such things bef Came the gray dawn gently stealing, Edgecumbe's lofty top revealing, And the sun with silver arrows pierced night's mantle through and through. While, by some strange necromancy, in my brain a subtle fancy, Born, perchance, of dawning reason but most sadly out of season. Gently whispered, 'Hoo-chi-noo!" * Hoo-chi-noo is an intoxicating liquor distilled from molasses by the Alaskan natives. t Baranoif was one of the early Governors of Alaska, stationed in Sitka. He was a stern and relentless despot, but was a most efficient Governor and the most able financial manager the Imperial Government of Russia ever had. nlik.M.ljill.imlliillMmlljIlllmMlilll iJlillii THE SHAMAN'S GRAVE.* On a lone hill, dose to the brine, His war canoe beside, A Shaman of the earlier time, Chief of the Sitka tribe- Lies sleeping an eternal rest That moss and vines entwine. He was a chieftain in the days Before the white men came, And foremost in those awful ways Which lit the torture flame; liaising his murderous hands in praise Oi'blood and human pain. Mercy ne'er touched his heart of steel, Nor woe, nor woman's wail; Nor plaint of children made him feel Beneath his hardened mail. The things which make our senses reel Were crushed beneath his flail. He died as he had lived, and they Who answered to his call, All reverently his grim form lay Where shadows, weird and tall. Fall from the mountains on the Bay Like grim Death's mighty pall. I |l|Hlllilllliiilllibl lilillmilljlilliiiilliiil libhmlliiblmillillimlliimiiiilljiillinilijglliiiill^ Ililtllimlliibliniltiitll llitlliiiilt!ltl IliJilllillljl] 14 The years have passed; the moss has grown About his resting place; The Chieftain' d glory, too. has flown. And none recall his face. And few are l^ft of those who mourn For his departed race. And now when Summer days are long, Or in the twilight dim. Is heard some sweet and tender song, Some bright and joyous hymn, Snug for a victory over wrong. Christ's triumph over sin; it seems as it' the rocky hills Answered the glad refrain With blithesome melody, which thrills Across the tossing main; A requiem tor those savage ills Which none may know again. ()! banner of the Holy Cross. Set here beside the sea, Upheld by those who count not loss, So it be loss for Thee: When wild waves blow and tempests toss. Our shelter must Thou be! O ! Cross of Christ, to which we cling Among the Heathen band, The flowers of hope and faith we bring Make all men understand, And from Thine own unfailing spring Water the thirsty land. # The woi-d Shaman is of Persian or Hindoo origin. A Shaman is a Doctor or Medicine-man who occupies a high place among his people. llilUnnlllillh A SIWASH IDYL. T'was i mm y and many a year ago, On an Isle in the Northern Sea Where they feed on herring and salmon roe, That I was a Si wash maiden's beau, She loved and was loved by me. The name of this maid was Anna Hootz; She wore a blanket and high gum boots. We lived serene in the Native Ranehe And had twenty dogs or more, And an old canoe, close by, to launch. Which was tilled with many an olive branch When we sailed from the perfumed shore. They were all bow legged, with blended eyes, And of different colors, like diamond dyes. The sun came up and the sun went down A very great number of times, And shadows grew long on the mountains brown, And the Russian bells rang Christmas chimes, And foolish poets wrote rambling rhymes For a print in the white man's town. But my Si wash maiden was true to me In our odorous home by the sounding sea. But a change came over my wild rose when A Celestial, named Ah Jim, Who worked as a cook for pale-faced men, Led her heart astrav, toward him. '"'ip 11 P"""i|J|i" IF'"" 1 !!!" W iiin 16 Ah ! then my trouble it did begin, For he carried away my Anna Hoot/. But he left the blanket and high gum boots. And the scvnt of the salmon lingers yet In the place where she used to be, And while life lasts I shall never forget How sweet its perfume to me. And the blear-eyed children upon her knee, With legs adapted for crooked boots, The patentee's sign of Anna Hoot/. And now J sit by the smoky fire Through the day and the twilights dim, Cherishing only a wild desire To build an elaborate funeral pyre And to get one chance at Jim; To mangle and tear him limb from limb And boil him well in a copper pot hi a place where Anna Hoot/ is not. 1 have boiled the blanket and gummy boots, And seasoned them with a tear, ! have formed a liking for human soups As a dish both rare and queer. And now when the nights are dark and drear I sit and mourn in sepulchral tones For a chance to pick Celestial bones. One boon I crave, the chance to squeeze Nutritious revenge from a fat Chinese. Oh ! if I were only a Captain bolt I Or an Officer of Marines, Ah Jim would never grow very old Nor be troubled by Chinese dreams In these violet-scented scenes. I would bury him with the other brutes, In memento mori of Anna Hoot/. lllili jJilUiiiilliilL JlkmillkiiillJkiiillJliliiinilJlH lilLii.iUlJllm.MllJlllli.nmllliiiMiUlllijiiimili lijIilliMiilJlyiMmdIlJiHNmlllinMlllill TO THE UNKNOWN SAILORS, DEAD, MURDERED BY THE X ATI YES, AND BURIED NEAR T HE MOUTH OF INDIAN RIVER, SITKA, ALASKA. Xear where the Indian River meets the sea And kisses with sweet lips its bitter foam, And where the grand majestic melody Of winds and waves make a perpetual moan; Where gray moss clings, like beards of ancient men, On great trees standing at the mountain's feet, And ferns and vines run riot in the glen, And wild birds whisper love songs, low and sweet; Here in the elder time, some sailors bold Made landing from a war-ship in the Bay, Coming for water only. not for gold, And full of life and hope that summer day, Found grim Death waiting for them in the wood, And heard a savage cry of murderous wrath; The tangled thickets saw their warm life blood Which crimsoned all the verdurous woodland path. Staid, staid forever were sea weary feet; Xo more for them sweet thoughts of love and home, And tender memories, which make living sweet. All vanished like the wind-blown, sea-tossed foam. Their shipmates buried them near where they fell. 18. And a rude structure built by alien hands. Beyond the limit of the ocean swell. Told of the unknown dead from far off lands. Since then tlk* mountain dew, and summer rain, And winter snow, have fallen many a day Upon this simple, rude memorial fane, Until at last it sinks into decay. And naught is left save some poor relics cast By whistling winds upon the forest trail. Kecalling legends of that cruel past Which chill our blood and turn our faces pale. lint somewhere, somewhere, in a far off' place A heart beats sadly when fond memory wakes, And dim eyes long for a remembered face When twilight falls, or the fair morning breaks; Longs with unutterable and unvoiced woe For a home-coming to be nevermore. And fancy hears when Northern breezes blow Faint whispered words from this far Northern shore "Ah ! Nevermore!" the sea birds restless cry, Old Ocean's weird and ceaseless monotone, The song of montain winds their lullaby; They sleep forever, far from friends and home. And I who heard their hapless story told, While wandering through the sylvan solitude. Feeling some flowers of sympathy unfold, Would lav them on their graves, however rude. AFTER MANY YEARS. THE QUESTION. SHE. When the roses of youth have faded . And the flowers of life are complete, Can yon gather the petals which follow The trail of some fair girPs feet? Can yon blot out the picture forever Which memory paints on your skies, With tints blended out of life's morning Toned down with its sunset dyes ? Can your heart cease pulsing the music, Or the words of that unknown tongue, Which the ripe red lips of a syren Sang sweet when the day was young ? Can you stand at life's western casement And watch the shadows grow, Without seeing arise from cloudland Some vision of long ago? THE AKSWER, HE. Oh ! yes, my bonnie bright darling, You gathered life's rose complete, And the wayward petals a carpet were llldllim^^ For the tread of your fair young led All pictures before 1 1 knew you Hang- with faces against the wall. Behind one immortal canvas, On which you are all in all. And my heart beats fast to music "With words which are always new. Its chords making quick responses For the burden they bear is yon. As I stand at life's western casement And watch youth's sun decline, I see in the misty cloudland. Love, One face. but the face is thine. ^ millitoiiiill^ ^" THE RESCUE OF THE CASTAWAYS. A rocky Island in the Northern Sea, Where wild birds rest secure after long flights, And where the thundering anthem of the deep Its mighty monotone rings through the days and nights A narrow strip of yellow shell strewn sand, On which the wild waves break with ceaseless moan, As if they came to search the barren land, And grieved because they found it bleak and lone. Upon a rocky point dippod in the brine, Like a brown finger pointing toward the west, What men are these AV!IO, in this chilling clime, Have on the rocks, like sea-birds, built their nest? Day after day they watch the distant rim And purple haze of the horizon line, Waiting and watching, with sad eyes and dim, To see some sail glide up the world's incline. Day after day, and through the dismal dark, They wait and watch and murmur in their sleep, And pray and weep, where there are none to mark Save Him who holds the hollows of the deep. 2s"o rescue comes, and hope grows sick and faint; They wonder if the world they left is dead, While from their quivering lips comes no complaint; Dull-eyed despair enthroned all else has lied. tlhi.."illlll UlilUnMlliillMnMlilllMinHjIUlnnllilllHi II And slowly, surely, like a creeping fate, With brains and bodies burdened overmost, They see grim Death approach, a phantom late. As if he, too, was lost on that rude coast. But at the last, across the silver sheen, Which like a curtain o'er the distance falls. They see a vision like a mi raged dream Outlined against the heavenly-tinted walls, One little sail ! tanned by bright angels' wings, And wafting toward them hope, and love, and light Comes Hying where the golden sunshine flings A pathway like a meteor seen at night. And succor comes, and brown hands brave and strong- Are clasped upon that island's gloomy strand; And from all hearts wells up a grateful song; And rippling waves laugh as they kiss the sand. And cheerily upon her homeward way, Past verduous islands and the mountains brown, The little craft flies fast to the fair bay Whose waters kiss the feet of Sitka Town; Above the green dome of the Russian Church They catch the shining of the holy cross. The lost are found; and Heaven upon our search Has smiled approval, bringing gain from loss. For, we whom sympathy has made one kin In this sweet act of chanty well done, Will find our surest recompense within Our hearts: for God will bless us every one. "P""'^"'"'^ '3p'"? ^ lli '^' ll ''V I sTf^l' 1 ^l'^ 1 ^,lllH,^!U,^,llll!Jp,lll^,lllll^ 'll^llllll^'lll^lllllipinilfllilllllp.!!!!^! Hililllliiiiijillimllllil'.M.iilllliiiiiilJliLiiiiiUlllll illlilimliJlll Am4lllmMlJil]lnnijJllllmilljllllMMl^ OFT-TIMES. Oft-times I long to see the old time faces And clasp again the warm and steadfast hands In those lair happy memory haunted places Beyond the mountains, in the Eastern lands. Oh ! I would fain whip time to taster speeding And end my vigils on this lonely shore; I count the days, the months, the years receding, Until at last I press them to my heart once more. Ah ! then these sombre skies will fade forever; The days which wove the grey mists in my hair Will come no more to mark the wrinkle's gather, Sorrow's sign manual on the brow of care. And [ will tell sad tales and mirthful stories Of my queer living by the Northern Seas, And of an earnest lite whose morning glories Refused to blossom under skies like these. Born for the sunshine, life is not worth living Here where its fading petals sadly fall, Like some sweet flower to desolation giving Its perfume with the shadows over all. My dearly loved ! God's benison be with yon, Keeping for me warm places near your hearths. And every blessing which the world can give you Walk hand in hand through all your household paths. Inllllll IllUhimllJl iJkmlillllllHllJiiNilljJlllliiMllJilllmil^ iyll]liiiil|jIliliii|l|ltlllllMljJilLllll|liilllH|lllilLll|l|lliilii 24 Safe in my heart are stored the priceless treasures Of love, and faith, and loyalty, and truth; And howsoever the rude world pours its measures I keep secure these standards of my youth. And if by any chance my life be ended By these rude waters, in its autumn time. You will recall how all its woof was blended With threads of gold spun in its summer time. And if I come not back no more forever You will clasp tender hands and gently say: "He was our friend; nor time, nor death can sever The love returned, which followed him alwav." llliillMnllJlllln.nlJllllMMliJiill Jiltlnnlllillli.lllllilllimlllltl lllillllilllllillllMlllllllllilllllllliliilllllllHiillllillil.iilllillli.iilllilllMiilllllln CHRISTMAS EVE.-SITKA, ALASKA, 1890. The shadows on Alaskan hills Have lengthened, day by day; The music of the mountain rills, Like dreams, have passed away; And lonely silence everywhere Falls on the mountains, like a prayer. Far off upon the Western Sea White hands seem beckoning in the foam. And wild waves toss tumultuously, Like helpless souls which long for home; The mighty levels of the deep Are crooning songs for those who sleep. -^ Beyond Mount Edgecumbe's crested top And wind-blown turban of the snow. The lantern stars- have made full stop, As if the Angels searched below For some poor lost and wandering sheep, Adrift and lonely on the deep. And lo ! upon the robe of night, Which wraps the sun from eyes of men, There shines a soft and steady light Like that which shone o'er Bethlehem, As if somehow the breaking day Keliected on the Milkv Way. The world may turn a deafened ear To the sweet tale of long- ago; But good deeds born of Christinas cheer Hide on Time's sickle to and fro; And Hope and Faith are leal, as when The star sang "Peace, good will to men !" And here, beside the Northern Sea, A lonely land of storm and wraith. Are those who treasure Gallilee And keep secure the Christian faith, Holding supreme the story old Amid Alaska's hills of gold. And though the shadows early fall And dusky twilight comes apace, They catch, above the sombre pall, The glory of the Saviour's face; And see, beyond each mountain range, A land which knows not time nor change. I "TAPS." O ! Bugle ringing through the solemn silence And all the dusky shadows of the night, Like some lost bird in tender accents calling, With tear, and hop;*, and tremulous delight. The shaggy mountains from snow- erected summits Fling back the echoes of thy silver tone; The solemn sea, its cadenced voice uplifting, Like wailing spirits wandering far from home, All blend with thee to make the sad nights lonely, With memories of some old time past delight When lips we loved in gentle accents murmured In other lands a glad and sweet goodnight. {Serene and clear above the quaint old village, You murk the dying of the passing day, Like tuneful-throated Nightingale, lone singing In some sad scene of ruin and decay. And fancy wakens with the music dying In further distance out beyond the foam Where sea-gulls dip their white wings in the waters, As if they, too, sought rest, and peac:\ and home O! dearly loved, who fondly wait our coming To bid us welcome with true hearts and hands. iiiillllliiiillJtlHiiiiijiliiiiilJlllliiiinill Will not the bugle blow a message to you From these far Northern desolated lands ? We catch some tender scenes as in a vision, Some pictures tinted with dear past delights And with the echoing bugle strains we waft you The sweetest, brightest, tenderest of good nights. * A term applied to three taps on the drum, or sounding of the bugle, at 9:15 nightly, at military quarters, signifying that lights must be extinguished. BY THE PRESBYTERIAN MISSION GATE. Outlined against the blue untat homed distance, With hvt dipped in the brine, The mountains kneel with steadfast, calm persistence Before G.d's altar shrine. Tnt* murmuring waters from the Western Ocean Laugh low. and lay white lips upon the shore; The sea's broad bosom heaves with wrapt emotion, As if it. too, would worship evermore. And soft and clear from the gray village ringing Is borne the sound of church bells rung in chime. And, mellowed by the distance, natives singing Of peace and love in God's appointed time. While towering high in the ethereal azure, Where wild winds whistle and the snow wreaths toss, One lonely crest beyond man's foot or measure Bears on its storm-scarred front, the Holy Cross. As if in some far time beyond our vision, God's tingvr pointing from the mansions blest; Or angels guided from the land Elysian Traced His sign manual on the mountain's breast: ""111 Mllillh.uMlIlnmudlD Aii.MlJlll Oiyimiillilllimljjiii illillliiHilUlllHllli 30 O sea and mount and softly lapsing waters; O snowy cross high on the mountain breast; O native born, ye dusky sons and daughters; O gray sea rolling toward the boundless west. O music tailing with so soft a cadence, It seems as if the days were very nigh When in my mother's eyes 1 saw love's radiance And heard her dear lips sing a lullaby. This day ye all have taught a lesson holy To a poor wanderer waiting for a time Beside the sea, who with a spirit lowly Lavs these rude verses humbly at your shrine ^mlJ^lHillJllllMiilliillliiiillllllliiitlliitllhiilljIllliiiillllllln.illilllli. 31 TWILIGHT. Silent and lonely the islands lie Asleep on the sad sea's breast; The winds are singing a lullaby From out ot'the Golden West: And a single star hangs low in the sky, Like a gem on a purple vest, The sun is hiding itself away In the overspreading sea; The tremulous light of the dying day Makes a silver bridge for me, On which the feet of the Angels may Lead on where my dear ones be. O ! loved and lost ! do you waiting stand On the shores of the other side f Do I catch a glimpse of a beckoning hand Outstretched o'er the waters wide ? Can I hear* a voice from the far off land Call over the tossing tide ? True tender hearts ! when my day is done And the labor of life is o'er. Where shall I stand at set of sun, Which side of the golden door ? Will my feet on the silver bridges run Where the light fades nevermore f imillillliii When I leave the islands of hope behind, And my soul from its anchor slips. What haven of peace will its helmsman find. And a welcome from whose lips '. Will voices hail in accents kind From the decks of familial 1 ships .' Or silent and sad in the lonely dark, Shall J watch the shadows grow. With only memory to mark How the sands in the glass run low I With the sails all furled on my drifting bark. As the wild winds fiercely blow ? Far out at sea in the violet haze Of the misty horizon's rim, I see the dawn of happier days Illumine the twilight dim, And the star of hope is all ablaxi* With the promises made by Him. With the dying day the soft winds blow Sweet words from the Golden West: "Come unto me, my child, and lo ! Your tired soul shall rest !" And I stand and wait for my ship to go When the Master makes request. 33 A VISION OF THE FUTURE. Some day in the great city's crowded streets Amid the glittering splendor, and the glare Of the great human tide which onward sweeps, Stranding so many lives among the breakers there. Where hearts beat wildly in. the maddening race And feverish feet tread fast the dusty ways, Where rest is banished, and no peaceful place Is there for quiet nights or dreamful days, Full oft I know that I shall longing stand And vainly hope that there will come to me, Borne by the winds across the level land, Some fur blown breath from off the Northern Sea; And I shall turn sad eyes to where the clouds Hang low like curtains drawn athwart the skies, And ghosts of memories rising in their shrouds Will bring me back to where old Sitka lies, Framed by the mountains and the crooning deep, Where toil is not and life seems at full stop; While in the sky the Angels seem to keep Perpetual vigil on each mountain top Can I forget the days which I have known By rippling rivers and the rugged shore f The voices of the sea; its sad low moan; Will they come back to me Oh ! nevermore t Shall I not feel my quickening pulses beat To the wild rhythm of the boiling surge! Shall I not climb again with vigorous feet The stately mountains to their top-most verge? .nHiM.H.llilii ..... Hill ...... ilkmillkmUltonnilltoHnilikMi^ 34 Shall I not see Mount Edgecumbe's summit rise White as the bosom of sonic beauteous girl, Its graceful form outlined against the skies. While round its feet the tireless waters whirl > Ah me! full well I know sweet flowers bloom In city gardens: hot-house plants and rare; |, But I shall miss the perfect days in June With ocean's crisp aroma in the air; The nameless witcheries, with which X.iture makes Her worshippers so loyal to her shrine By sea and shore and lonely mountain lakes, And in the woods primeval, all are thine. ASHLEIGH BELLE TURNER. HORN AT SITKA, ALASKA, FEBRUARY 1(), 18SJ). A little ship from an unknown land. Full freighted with hopes, and joys, and fears, And held in the hollow of God's right hand, Sails in with a welcome of smiles and tears. Rocked in the cradle of loving arms; Uu-registered on the world's wide page; Serene and safe from all rude alarms, With her mother's knee for an anchorage. Never a gale from the wind-swept sea Whistles in wrath o'er the baby ships, And barometer-like, what storms there be, Are guaged by the quiver of rosebud lips. Long, long, may she sail through love-lit days, With her fair flag never by sorrow furled ! And her paths be pleasant, o'er flower-strewn ways To the golden gates of the unknown world ! ALASKA'S MOUNTAINS. What mighty marshaled hosts are these. In icy armor mailed, With feet dipped in the Northern Seas And snow white garments trailed, From stalwart shoulders broad outlined Against the Western sky And crested brows clearly defined, The wild winds to defy? Tliis is the guard the Lord hath set To watch the wold and fell. On each one placed His coronet A chosen sentinel. Here on the outposts of the world Grand, silent, and serene, With only Nature's flag unfurled, They dominate the scene. What time the pigmy hosts of men Shall scale each rugged side. And people every lonely glen And cling with foolish pride, Saying: "These are the heights we won By toil and danger past, And all our work has been well done And the last barrier past!" But ever toward the ice bound pole God's army rank on rank, Responsive to His muster roll The sea on either ttank, Arise and stretching far away Beyond the horizon's rim, Stand guardians of the realms- of day, Loyal and true to Him. And so however men may strive And toil for fame and gold. The doings of the human hive Are as a story told. And as time flies with lapsing years, Obedient to God's call. Unheeding all our smiles and tears Eise up the mountains tall. ^ I r jSf^vrfi'iiBi. ;L*SfcSSi Ct'STOAl IlorSF, AM) CASTIJ-:, SITKA. 1SSO. lilll l!illlliiiill]ll!liiiitiilLliiiil!lI[UliiilllIllliiiilUlllHnillJl[lliiiillll|iiill]JJ "* *'"* * I POEMS BY mil. alii mln iik.n.11111 iilii iiiu......^....!!!!!) i^mAi. HliiL'lniillill UJll nillnnl!iiiLi|iii!liiliiliiiillli|ii^j ^ X^L ' "fl" ^ 40 ^\B RAft y- ^ ^ERSITY / ALASKAN PERPLEXITIES. Fort Wrangell sounds quite fair enough, So does the Isle of Baranoff, Though Loring's tame, it still is new, But, Phoebus ! think of Killisnoo ! What poet can indite sweet lays Or singer sing aright in praise Of Knik, so fair, Kowak serene, The rapid Skoot, or slack Stikine? When some day railroad trains arrive, Can female tourist's brain survive The shock when brakemen startP her out With their New Metlakahtla shout? The angry mail clerk oft will scoff At letters for Partovschikoff; Poghibshi, Anvik, Yakutat He'll throw his whole mail packet at. If salmon canners that now can In Lynn Canal not at Howkan Should change about, how will he look Who dares ill luck at Iliulink? 4L> Docs one of our blue-coats know wiio The battle won at Ivootznahoo : Won't lawyers put their suitors off Who cases bring from Kutusoff'f Chileat Chilcoot both thrill me through Like icy blasts from chill Tahkou, Nor- does the name of Slmmagin Bring back the summer's bloom again. I like the smoother, glassier play Of words pronounced like Glacier Bay Or Peril Straits or Seymour Sound: Alaskan names do me confound. jllllllllllillllilllUilll llilll llillll.iiHlfllli.iilUflll 43 CHINOOK AND CHINEE. AN ALASKAN IDYLL. China \Vasherman Ling, when liis day's work was done, Took a very big drink of the vilest Sam Shu; And he said to himself, u My hub belly good fun If my takee a sail in Si wash ee canoe." (This "Sain Shu'' is a liquor that Chinamen brew, And "Siwash" is Chinook for an Indian, too). Ket-le-kat, a lone fisherman, sat on a rock Just beside his canoe drawn up high on the shore. He'd unloaded his fish but had laid in a stock Of the worst Hoo-chi-noo that a still ever bore. ("Hoo-chi-noo" is Alaskan raw rum: and what's more U can knock out "Sam Shu" by a very long score). Then Ling tied up his cue and he filled up his flask, And meandered the beach on the Indian side When he saw Ket-le-kat and proceeded to ask "For my tlee dolla hap, say how muchee can ride f" (That is: three silver dollars and four bits beside; Which would pay for a pretty long float on the tide). "Nika hy-as sick tum-tuni," Ket slowly replied, "Xika mamook row skookum for rnuck-a-muck chuck, Spose you make nika potlatch kloon dolla beside." (What he meant was: his heart with great sorrow was struck, But he'd paddle the Chinaman round like a duck For a three- dollar gift and a drink for good luck). nni||pnn|||inmi|^^ in.nlJilllMinllllllniiillllllimllilll llillnmiilkiHilikiiiiliillliuiililllMmllJlllI liiil Uiil illll liflilimililil AiiiillllllliiiillJill liill llilllliiiillilll lililliinHjIillii mill 44 'Ah! my sabe," said Ling, ''it's all lite.3, my lie: id. But ni y likee to mixee If I bit of your dlink." (For he thought the two liquors would make a line blend, ) "Nika cumtux," said Ket, without stopping to think, (Meaning he would agree, without paper or ink.) And they shoved the canoe off as quick as a wink. So they paddled and sailed till far out on the bay. Each one drank a big drink of his favorite "booze,'' And they touched their cups, too, in the civilized way With the compliments high-toned Americans use, (Such as: "Since you invite me I. cannot refuse;" "Here's the hair off your head !" and "Here's death to the blues!") Then they blended Sam Shu and the Hoo-chi-noo. too; But, alas! in a second 'twas fearful to see Shot a huge sheet of flame from that fated canoe With a sudden, sharp sound, and nowhere on the sea Was a trace to be found of that terrible spree In the Siwash canoe of Chinook and Chinee. 45 THE SITKAN CHRISTMAS-TIDE. WITH INTERPOLATIONS BY THE POET'S YOUNGEST. Above Verstovia's sides, robed thick with fur, Like sides of tarnished beasts that thread its trails In search of food, yet feared to prowl afar, The chill, chaste arrow-head up rears its form. (The old man's dead to wrong; the fur he thinks he sees On Mount Verstovia's sides ain't nothing but fir trees). Midst snowy peaks the Mount of Holy Cross Bears (in its breast its emblem deeply scarred, Uncovered still, and clear, as if the storms Had stayed their wrath in thought of times like these. (Of snow on mountain peaks it ain't no use to boast When here in town there ain't enough to make a coast). Lo ! as the tide its affluent Hood uprolls, Around the point the curling smoke appears, And swiftly shoreward steams the longed-for mail, Deep down with gifts and written words of love. (You can't rely on those old steamers from the States; I'll bet two-bits they'll never bring my pair of skates). Here stands athwart the road, with bulging dome The cruciform, old Gneco- Russian Church, Whose chimes, from brazen, rich engraven bells Call forth its people to their prayer and praise. (That kind of congregation may be very fine, But I don't want to take no Si wash mixed in mine). The bustling housewife speads her morning toil, The browning gobbler basting, as she sings, The while her girls the snowy cloth outspread And glasses place to hold the cheering wine. (Pop knows he went 'round kicking like a Texas steer Because there wa'nt no turkey nor no wine last year). The short day over comes the setting sun. And lamps are lit, and fires are all aglow. Around the Christmas tree the children join AVith eager longing for expected gifts. (These Sitka Christrnasses don't last but half a day; What time, I'd like to know, 's a fellow got to play?) Then carol boys, with tuneful voices blest, Bear forth six-pointed stars atwirled on flashing wheels, And sing from house to home the olden prayer That unto all may come good will and peace. (I think I'll go out with a chap I know, what hollers; Lust year the Peterhotfsky boys took in two dollars). The midnight b->ll rings out in peaceful notes; The pleasure wearied groups retire to rest; And from the sky descend the gentle showers, A benison to those whom Nature loves. (I don't go much on that word pop calls "benison'': It's like what I've had far too much of which is venison. And as for gentle showers in Sitka, when begun They don't let up for long, so's we can see the sun). ||t| ijilllMMtO'lliri'Jillllllll] 48 r^Y FUK THIS WOHK iiUMi 51 THE LEGEND OF THE ISLE. Did you ever stand on the sea-beat strand Where the broad Pacific rests, lu the sombre gleam of the sun's last beam As lie sinks into the west i And catch the bla/e of its fading rays Reflecting earth and sky. \Vhile its golden tints the sea imprints In misty purpling dyes. The placid lave of the restless waves Came murmuring at your feet; On their crests they bore as they came ashore Legends of visions fleet. The sea bird's scream disturbed your dream As these visions in bright array. Your fancy held with a magic spell On the eve oi' that lovely day. Yon traced with care in language rare That mirrored in features bold, Of a rocky crest on the ocean's breast Its mvsteries untold. In the coral caves the babbling waves Revel in legvnds old, With a pearly shell from a fairy dell You traced in lines so bold On the glistening 1 sand of that sea-beat strand What the waves in their mirth revealed, Yon penciled there with thought and care And a key to the visions sealed. Hut the sprites they vied with the rising tide And a record of these legends b.nv. From the sand and waves of the coral eaves In triumph to the shore. The nymphs they sang and the echoes rang Far over the listless dee]). Where the mermaids play in the silvery spray And their nightly vigils keep. The Naiad Queen in her boat was seen As she neared the sea- beat strand; kt (\nne go awhile to a fairy Isle! v And she held out her soft white hand. You step afloat of that tiny boat As its prow recedes from shore, And the wavelets leap as it cleaves the deep Propelled by a golden oar. On on yon glide o'er the silent tide Far over the waters blue, A headland height bursts on tin* sight As the Isle appears in view. That Isle so fair lies sleeping there Kissed by the pale moonlight. Its sloping glades flash emerald shades To crown the brow of night. 53 S The breezes sigli through the balmy sky And come at the midnight hours; On their wings they bear from that Isle so fair The odor of a thousand flowers. The Xorthern lights flash lines of white And in changing beauties glow, Like a mirage fair on the desert air The shadows come and go. The mountains stand so lofty grand. Their snowy peaks so white. On their rocky crests the sun's rays rest Far into the coming night. The musty tomes of the fabled gnomes Tell of an unknown land, Fai' far at rest on the ocean's breast With its wealth of golden sand; Of its rock-girt shore where evermore The waves in their fury beat; Whciv the storm kings hie; the sea birds fly On rapid pinions fleet; Of its groves sind dells where the Genii dwells, Famed in days of yore; The Alchemist bold turned the rocks to gold In caves on that unknown shore; Of a castle grand in that far off land Full of mysterious things, Handed down from crown to crown And sea-led with the blood of kings; Of its ferns and fells and mossy dells, Its frescoed grottoes quaint, Where fairies pi-ay at close of day In memory of their Saint; Of its precious gems and diadems; Its fountains ages old, Where those who lave in its waters bathe Never again grow old. As the legends run the philosopher's stone Lies buried in its golden sands; O'er' its place of rest is a cross and crest Begirt with diamond bands. Fountains fair fill the balmy air, Distilling dew on the trees and flowers, , With depths as cool as Bethesda's pool When stirred at the midnight hours. The sprites and elves on the sea beach shelves, Like maidens of a gala day, Are seen at a glance in the mystic dance, While the moonbeams round them play. The Naiad Queen these elves has seen, And she ships her golden oar. While to soft low notes the music floats That wafts you to the shore. You've gained the strand of that unknown land And lightly step ashore; That queenly guide on the silvery tide Will return when your work is o'er. In love, I ween, with the Naiad Queen, You clasp her jeweled hand; With heart beat true you say, "Adieu! Come back at my command ! "When south winds blow and the crusted snow Pales from Iteta's side, Return once more to this unknown shore And thon shalt be my bride." iilllii"i'dllii"inillli ...... ilHi"-tilH ..... 'HlH ....... llili ...... Dili ...... Uk...nlll 55 A sudden flash, a beauteous blush "Signer, I obey" O'erspread her face with modest grace As she slowly sailed away. Did you ever stand on the golden strand Of a lovely unknown Isle, In the dancing gleam of the sun's first beam The pleasant hours to beguile? The bright blue sea was the mystic key That unlocked so fair a shore; Your pulses thrill with a happy will Its mysteries to explore. You feel a pride as you onward stride Along that pebbly strand. That fate at last your lot had cast In such a wonder land. You wander on through a maze of flowers Through vernal glades and fairy bowers, Until you reach an upland lawn Kissed by the dews of early dawn. Kec lining there on a mossy seat Where creeping tendrils entwine the feet, Your vision gladdened by a mystic spell, Seeks out each grove, each glen, each dell. The eyes then bent on the Isle's extent, As it sweeps the horizon round; In dim perspective on your right Is the shadow of a lofty mound. Your course you guide for its sloping side And soon begin the ascent; Up up you go, while far below Lie plain and valley blent. ily IJllu.nillllllmA .Illlli lltl ill .lllll lllllll Hill illill .dill Uk. mil llilu..,..|lill illlUnullllllI llllll. 56 At hist yon stand on a broad and grand Plateau on the mountain's crest: The beautiful scene that greets the sight Ne'er was seen by brave or gallant knight In the days of chivalry. Ye Gods! what artist's patron saint Could with passion's pencil paint The landscape that before you lies? While slope on slope so gradual ris;* In Nature's vernal fringes dressed. As if the clouds, their presence pressed A faint outline against the sky, Grow dim, still dimmer a sombre gray, Then vanish finally away. The eye commands the world below Where fleecy cloudlets come and go, Which hovering round some lofty peak. Its majesty erstwhile bespeak. Then ranging onward in its flight. Where tinted rays in lines of light Fleck the distant mountains bold In wavy lines of burnished gold; See on yon clouds, so wondrous fair. A silent city painted there; In retrospection's happy trance Thought follows thought; glance follows glance As if the scene the eye could quell' In imagination's dreamy spell; As if the mind a conquest claim And revel in a deathless tame. On that plateau bold is a castle old: Its domes and spiivs are tipped with gold: In regal grandeur and lofty pride It commands that Isli* from side to side. What terraced arches ! What rare design ! It once was the home of a kingly ii lie; Its massive embattlenients seem to frown- As you approach the draw the port-cullis is down; You leap the moat and scale the wall And stand in the court of the castle hall. Xo warrior grim or belted knight Is there to challenge or dispute your right; They are gone, yon say, to a dismal fate, And those hollow arches reverberate, While echoed back through those aisles so drear, ' They' re gone !' ' ' 'They' re gone !' ' falls on the ear. You listen now with bated breath But those fretted vaults are as still as death. You wander on through that palace maze, Entranced your thoughts and fixed your gaze; The hidden mysteries within those halls lleveal themselves on the frescoed walls; Paintings wrought by master hands, Inlaid in pearl with widening bands; Everlasting flower:; in wreathed festo:>ns Welcome you in those 1 grand saloons. F As yon pass along through those mystic halls, Panel doors in the solid walls Attract your gaze, your mind excite. And close inspection at once invite. Yon long to know what those rooms conceal, And further mysteries reveal; You try to enter, but alas ! are shocked, Your effort's vain, they all are locked. Baffled, amazed and sore depressed, You sink upon the floor to rest, When the Clod of Morpheus his vigils keeps And wraps yon close in slumbers deep. Of a irolden key von dream, aye dream, While clasped in slumber's fitful gleam, That the key is hid in a chalice bright Behind the portrait of a kingly knight, Whose picture hangs on the frescoed walls On the upper floor of those grand old halls. You wander round first here and there: At last you come to a spiral stair; Fleet as the wind with a sudden bound Your feet press the floor of that hall profound. Yes ! there hangs the portrait of a kingly knight Descried through the glamour of the waning light; On the wall it hangs in a golden frame. Two jeweled swords crossed o'er the same. You approach the picture with softened pace, For there's a solemn look on that handsome face; In those stern gray eyes there's a dangerous stare; Those haughty lips seem to say "Beware!" Trembling with awe, in your mind the thought's rife. If this panoplied warrior should come back to life, Your life would pay forfeit; .then this mystical lore Lie entombed in oblivion from the world evermore. But what can you do? To retreat were disgrace; You must brave the displeasure on that stern warlike face; So near to the goal with ambition, a name Inscribed on the scroll with the bright deeds of fame. You lind by inspection a niche in the wall; Raising yourself lightly for fear of a fill, Place your hand in the chalice the key to obtain. Kesolving your efforts shall not be in vain. With high bounding pulse just ripe for the tray You speed ah ! so swiftly down the spiral stairway, Cross stealthily the hall, thrust the key in the door And stand in the midst of the mysteries of yore. Then I paused and looked round, What a sight to behold, ....ill ..... ...ill,, ..... l|l|l|,, u ,|llll,,u,lllll llllln ..... llilh.nlllllllml.llilll ..... 111! ....... llilll ..... till ...... illlll ..... Mill ....... Ill) ....... Illll ...... Illll ..... lllll, 51) The panned and mouldings were all inlaid with gold; The ceiling high-arched, and the grand lofty dome Outrivaled in splendor the proud spires of Home; The floor of white marble was as pure as the snow That crowned Mt. Olympus ages ago; Through the many stained windows the snn shed a glow Of soft mellow radiance on objects below, Flushing their forms in a lustre as bright As the soft milky way on a clear cloudless night. Rapturously I gazed on this kaleidoscope scene, Fearing to move lest it turn to a dream; But nature overwrought, at last snapped the chain, And brought me once more to my senses again. On the wall there hangs in an oval frame A gem of art, it has no name; O'er the cheeks there's a Hush; in the eyes a light; And the lips are parted like a rosebud bright. As in revery you stand and the picture view. The lovely vision seems to smile on you. With a low drawn sigh a sense of pain Von pass her by. but return again, And feast your eyes on that face once more The lady of the castle on the unknown shore. Near this lovely vision in the mellow light Hangs the gilded portrait of a haughty knight; Blue eyes and brown hair, right noble in mein, This bold cavalier is her lover I ween. Scotland can boast of a brave, handsome clan, But eyes never rested on a handsomer man Than this brave bold knight of the days of yore- King of a castle on an unknown shore, I think they were lovers from the flush on her face, And the bold lofty bearing that lent him its grace. Then their eyes told a tale so hard to conceal, Which lovers in love are so apt to reveal. Be that as it may I gazed with a frown i 60 On this proud handsome knight of unknown renown, And a pang touched my heart I could not forbear. As I smiled on that lady so wondrously fair. On the quaint weird walls of that room so old Were many portraits of warriors bold: Loyal retainers of a king and queen: Mailed knights of renown in their armor's sheen; The stern looks on their faces so brave and so real Told the tale of their prowess mid clashing of steel; Their visors were lifted from the poise of the head; They looked like men living and not like men dead; Jewel-hilted their swords with their points to the floor; On the shield of their breastplate the word "Evermore." In rapt admiration I gazed on the sight, And studied the portraits of each gallant knight 4 Now gone to the shore where mysteries reign, 4 Where life's wed to life in an unbroken chain; And the king and the queen of this old castle grand Now bask in the summer of an enchanted land; Naught remains but the beauty of these shadowy forms, Enshrouded in the glamour of sunshine and storms. But a truce to this vein, when my mission is o'er I can muse on the wonders of a far distant shore; For Avheu the snow pales on Iteta's bold side I must leave these strange scenes to claim my sweet bride. Methinks I can now hear the dip of her oar As her bark skims the billows for this evergreen shore, And hear that loved voice in melodious strain u My bold handsome lover, I've come back again." In one room I entered through an antique carved door. Hung massive framed mirrors from ceiling to floor; Reflections converging around me thrown then Peopled that room with an army of men. These mirrors were steel with a polish so bright ^ That the focus of rays turned day into night. As I gazed on their surface strange to relate Everything seemed in a transition state, The sorcerer's art, the astrologer's lore, The divination of witches, which all nations deplore, All passed in review their mysteries revealed, 1 noted them down and the book firmly sealed. In that encaanted castle I spent many hours. And i-oain.Ml through its arbors and beautiful bowers, And basked in the midst of its sunshine and flowers. One night, while sitting by the castle's broad moat. In the Hush of the tide I descried a small boat; It glided along like a spectre. I ween. And plying the oars was my beautiful queen. She waved her white hand with such stately grace, And soon we were clasped in love's fond 1*111 brace: There is not in this wide wo rid a bower so sweet As the bower in whose bosom true lovers meet. The snow had now paled from Iteta's side. And I ha 1 at last won mv fair bride. Ki'ader ! tiK* ret of my story's soon told. And the sequel is the same, same story of old. Mid love's enchantment, hand within hand. We wandeivd in bliss through that old castle grand; Stood in amaze in that palace grand dome And saw marine monsters plough through the sea's foam Saw long wavy lines of waves 'gainst coral reefs beat Where the sea and the sky in embrace seemed to iiKM.it. Then the gloaming came on and the full orbed moon rose From the gates of the east in such calm repose, As the conqueror conies with his legions at rest Yon glorious sun lit the gates of the west, 62 j Jn pale shrouds of fire commingling glinted back. To welcome the Queen of Night on her track. And that old castle grand, with its domes and its spires, Imprinted the shadows of those billowy fires On upland and lowland, o'er moorland and lea, Crowning in lustre that fair Isle of the sea. O'erwhelmed with rapture, we gazed on the scene Where silently whispered love's first fond young dream; u Art is beautiful, so gloriously rare, Hut art with nature cannot compare." In the soft haze of a bright autumn day "We left that fair Isle and sailed far away, And gaily our bark sped o'er the bright foam In search of a land, our own native home. The breeze bent our sails; our work is now o'er; Our boat now lies moored on Alaska' stair shore. A VISION OF THE FUTURE, ALASKA'S MOUNTAINS ALASKAN PERPLEXITIES, AFTKR MANY YEARS A Si WASH IDV'L, ASHLEIGH BELLE TURNER, BAKANOFF CASTLE AND CUSTOM HOUSE, 18SO, BY THE PRESBYTERIAN MISSION GATE BAKANOFF CASTLE IN EARLY DAYS, CHRISTMAS EVE SITKA, ALASKA, 18.) ) CHILD'S GLACIER, ALASKA, CHINOOK AND CHINEE, HOO-CHI-NOO, LEGEND OF BARANOFF CASTLE, ... OFT-TIMES, THE RESCUE OF THE CASTAWAYS, TAPS, ....... TWILIGHT, THE SITKAN CHRISTMAS-TIDE, THE MESSENGER BIRD, THE SHAMAN'S GRAVE, To THE UNKNOWN SAILORS DEAD, THE LEGEND OF THE ISLE, PAGE 33 35 40 19 15 34 39 -9 47 25 03 43 10 1 23 21 27 31 4o 8 13 17 f * I 4 ] i -I UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY THiaBOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AUGJ4 1914 MAt ;. 30m-6,'14 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES .: