The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1900-08-09
Cruise Of the White Dove
BY Charles Moreau Harger.


XAIONDER and delight thrilled the
Wv Mangold boys when the railroad
gang reached the edge of the prairie
claim. For days, almost for weeks,
the slow approach of the laborers had
been watched. First, just above the
horizon, then creeping across the level
plain-it seemed that they would never
come.
Rob,'Tad and roly-poly Link stood in
line, gazing obviously as the wielders
of pick and shovel crossed the boundary
of the farm.
"Want a ride, bubs?' called one of
the men, m%otioning toward the fiat
push car standing on the newly laid
track.
Course we do" and the three boys
SOC sat on the long car, their six bare
brown legs hanging off, while the men
trundled them along the track toward
the piles of rails and ties.
That was the beginning. The men
stayed for a long time on the Mangold
claim, for there were along the creek
bluffs and hills to work through. The
boys fairly lived beside the track and
pushed the low little used fatcar back
and forth, enjoying the novel play
thing.
"Wish we had an engine" remarked
Tad one summer day, gazing away to
the north; cts such hard work push
ing"
There were no grades on the line
from the bluffs northward, and the
boys richly earned all the rides they
secured.
Rob, wide7hatted and brown checked
lad of IA, had an idea. Perhaps it came
because of seafaring ancestors back in
Maine, the family's native state.
II know" he exclaimed; "let's put
up a sail"
A shout arose from the trio, and a
council was held as they sat on the
edge of the battered car platform.
what can we make it of, and where
can we get it?" asked Tad, rather in
definitely.
Rob thought a minute. Then he
whispered something to the others,
and a series of chuckles and leg-slap-
pings followed. The three hurried
through the prairie grass homeward.
Father had gone, to the county seat
town 20 miles away; mother was pa
tiently finishing the weeks ironing in
the summer kitchen.
Cautiously Rob led the way to the
little implanted granary where were
kept the implements and tools be-
longing to the farm. Over the plows
and binders he crawled until he came
to a pile of brown sacks-long, close
woven and soiled. When the sheep were
sheared in the spring the 1eeces were
packed in such receptacles, tramped
down by Rob's bare feet. A few of the
sacks had been left and were tossed
on the granary floor, forming one of
the favorite resting places of the three
boys.
sJust the thing" declared Rob-"
holding one high in the air, and when
Tad had joined him they quickly ripped
the stitching and had before them sew
eral large squares of bagging.
Snow for a mast" Nothing is quite
so scarce on the prairie claim, long
miles from a lumber lard, as a stick of
timber. But the granary itself was a
Climbing among the rafters,
Rob found a long narrow board which
he thought would do and could be
spared. Down it came gathering to the
floor.
DAYS of labor followed before the sail
was completed. With a picture from a
magazine as a guide, with some cord
and wire for ~fastenings, Rob measured
and sewed, and dreamed of the sea, al
most making himself believe that he
was to guide an obedient sloop over
blue waters.
When it was ready he lifted the odd
apparatus against the granary wall.
There were three timbers-the up
right mast and the cross-pieces hold
ing the big and nearly square sail.
"Well call it the white Dove,'" an
nounced Rob.
"But it amt white" protested Tad.
"Never mind-that was the name
of grandpa's boat, and he sailed to the
Newfoundland banks in it."
So the white Dove" it was. Next
was to come the launching.
The hills and a curve in the rail-
road made opportunity for the young
navigators. One day, when father
was again in town, they toiled toward
the track-Rob burdened with the sail
rolled tight and Tad laboriously drag
ging the timbers.
Up and down the track they looked
Ito the southwest it wounu into the
bluffs where the men were making the
dirt fly; to the north it stretched
straight away until it was lost in the
shimmering haze of the horizon.
"Quick, Tad, bring it on" were
Capt. Rob's orders, and the equipment
of the land sloop began. The task
was more difficult than they had
thought, but patiently they labored
and contrived, all the time forgetful
of their surroundings or of danger
Of being discovered.
Little Link had been left behind.
Big tears made white paths through
the dirt on his round cheeks, but he
was loyal to the adventures, who