CHAPTER XIX
To the Rescue

GERTRUDE LORIMER was in her office, waiting rather impatiently for the hour of her release from duty. There were so many reasons why she wanted to be free on this particular night.

For one thing, Mrs. Nichols had arrived home earlier in the evening, after a long stay on American territory, and Gertrude was anxious to hear the story of her adventures⁠—⁠so far, at least, as it could be told over an early supper. Afterwards Dr. Russell had suggested that a walk up to Skwail Point in the moonlight would be a pleasant way of passing the autumn evening.

The schoolmistress was going, and Neal Peters, the baggage-clerk’s younger brother; Tom Smithers, his wife and her sister would be pretty sure to go also, for moonlight walks when the day’s work was done were becoming quite a favourite recreation among the young people.

Skwail Point was always worth seeing, whether by moonlight or daylight, because of the Indian legend attaching to it.

The Point or Peak was the highest ground in all that hilly district, and the Squamish tribe held the belief that from Skwail Point the blessing of daylight had first been let loose upon the world. Previously it had been shut up in a box and jealously guarded by the sea-gull. But one very severe winter when the Chinook did not blow, the sea-gull was driven inland from the coast in search of shelter from the bitter cold, and, pausing to rest for a few minutes on the Point, found his feet frozen to the ground. While the sea-gull, with the precious box of daylight under his wing, was making frantic efforts to free himself, a raven came along and offered to assist.

But the raven’s attempts only hurt the sea-gull, who cried to him to desist.

“I should not hurt you if I could see better,” said the wily raven. “Why don’t you open your daylight box, and let me see to get you out of this fix? For if you stay here much longer, you will certainly be frozen to death.”

At this the sea-gull opened the box just a little way, being in terror of letting the imprisoned daylight escape, and in still greater terror of being frozen to death.