It was a proud moment when one of the builders stepped forward and touched his hat to a blue-uniformed official—a moment, too, that was fraught with serious issues, for the blue-uniform said, "Let her go!" All Edmonton ceased to breathe and the Indians looked almost pale.
There was a vast creaking; a shudder as if the caverns of the deep were opened; the wheels turned—and turned—and turned, and with each turn buried the machine deeper into the earth, there to remain till the day that Kenneth Macleod bought the marine boiler and engine for his sawmill. They say he bought it for a song, but no one ever heard the song. Ah! but those were right royal days for the Old-Timers, the like of which can never be.
I nearly forgot about the three cabooses. These stampeders who did not die of scurvy, hardship, starvation, or accident, and who returned via Edmonton, used the cabooses for shelter while they wrote home for money.
It was a long time before they were free of occupants.
CHAPTER XXVI
A SONG OF THIS LAND
Out of the North comes tumult, say they who are poets, and clangorous challenge to battle.
True, O Poets! And out of the North come men of robust mood who will keep our nation's honour, for this is a country where courage and truth are inborn; a land which sways the souls of its citizens unto high endeavour. From this country where, of old, dwelt the bow-bearers who were eaters of strong meat, will come high-hearted men of loyal temper, for this is the world's House of Youth. This shall be its nurse of heroes.
Money-flingers and careless, are these Northmen, says another, and wasters of wealth.