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                           HEROES OF TO-DAY

           [Illustration: John Muir among his beloved trees]




                           HEROES OF TO-DAY

                 JOHN MUIR ⁂ JOHN BURROUGHS ⁂ WILFRED
                  GRENFELL ⁂ ROBERT F. SCOTT ⁂ SAMUEL
                       PIERPONT LANGLEY ⁂ EDWARD
                   TRUDEAU ⁂ BISHOP ROWE ⁂ JACOB A.
                       RIIS ⁂ HERBERT C. HOOVER
                        RUPERT BROOKE ⁂ GEORGE
                              W. GOETHALS

                                  BY
                            MARY R. PARKMAN

                 Author of “Heroines of Service,” etc.

                           ILLUSTRATED WITH
                              PHOTOGRAPHS

                            [Illustration]

                               NEW YORK
                            THE CENTURY CO.
                                 1917


                       Copyright, 1916, 1917, by
                            THE CENTURY CO.

                      _Published September, 1917_


                                  TO
                               MY FATHER




FOREWORD


Once, when I had been telling a group of children some stories of the
heroes of old, one of the number who had always followed the tales with
breathless interest, said:

“Tell us the story of a hero of to-day!”

“There are no heroes to-day, no _real_ heroes, are there?” put in
another. “Oh, of course I know there are great men who do important
things,” he added, “but there isn’t any _story_ to what they do, is
there?--anything like the daring deeds of the knights and vikings, or of
the American pioneers?”

Of course I tried to tell the children that the times in which we live
bring out as true hero stuff as any time gone by. Nay, I grew quite
eloquent in speaking of the many phases of our complex modern life with
its many duties, its new conscience, its new feeling of individual
responsibility for the welfare of all.

Then I told the stories of some of the heroes who are fighting “in the
patient modern way,” not against flesh and blood with sword and spear,
but against the unseen enemies of disease and pestilence; against the
monster evils of ignorance, poverty and injustice. We decided that the
“modern viking,” Jacob Riis, had a story that was as truly adventurous
as those of the plundering vikings of long ago; that Dr. Grenfell, the
strong friend of Labrador, had certainly proved that life might be a
splendid adventure; and that the account of Captain Scott’s noble
conquest of every danger and hardship, and at the last of disappointment
and defeat itself, was indeed an “undying story.” Joyously we followed
the trail of that splendid hero of the heights, John Muir, and of that
gentle lover of the friendly by-paths of Nature, John Burroughs, and
found that there was no spot in woods or fields, among mountains or
streams, that did not have its wonder tale. The stories of those brave
souls--like Edward Trudeau, the good physician of Saranac, and Samuel
Pierpont Langley, the inventor of the heavier-than-air flying-machine,
who struggled undaunted in the face of failure for a success that only
those who should come after them might enjoy, were particularly
inspiring. From them we turned to the heroic figure of the
“prophet-engineer,” General Goethals, who proved that faith and
perseverance can truly remove mountains; and Herbert C. Hoover, master
of mines and of men, whose great talent for organization and efficient
management brought bread to starving millions.

Carlyle has said that “the history of what man has accomplished in this
world is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here.”
When the real history of our day is written, will it not be seen that
some of its most important and significant chapters are those which have
nothing to do with great cataclysms, such as the wars of nation against
nation? Will it not be seen that the victories of peace are not only “no
less renowned than war,” but that they are, in truth, the most enduring?
These “heroes of to-day”--doctor, naturalist, explorer, missionary,
engineer, inventor, journalist, patriot--workers for humanity in many
places and in many ways, are indeed

    “A glorious company, the flower of men,
     To serve as model for the mighty world,
     And be the fair beginning of a time.”




CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                                             PAGE

I THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND: JOHN MUIR                                      3

II THE SEER OF WOODCHUCK LODGE: JOHN BURROUGHS                        31

III THE DEEP-SEA DOCTOR: WILFRED GRENFELL                             53

IV THE CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL: CAPTAIN SCOTT                             81

V A MODERN VIKING: JACOB RIIS                                        105

VI A PIONEER OF THE OPEN: EDWARD L. TRUDEAU                          133

VII “THE PROPHET-ENGINEER”: GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS               163

VIII A SHEPHERD OF “THE GREAT COUNTRY”: BISHOP ROWE                  201

IX A HERO OF FLIGHT: SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY                         233

X A POET-SOLDIER: RUPERT BROOKE                                      263

XI A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD: HERBERT C. HOOVER                         295




ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                                    PAGE

John Muir Among His Beloved Trees                          _Frontispiece_

John Muir and John Burroughs in the Yosemite Valley                   25

Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell                                               55

The Hospital at St. Anthony, Northern Newfoundland                    66

Captain Robert F. Scott                                               87

Jacob A. Riis                                                        110

The Jacob A. Riis Settlement                                         119

Edward L. Trudeau                                                    146

First Sanitarium Cottage Built                                       155

Major Goethals                                                       178

The “Man of Panama” at Panama                                        195

Bishop Peter T. Rowe                                                 213

Samuel P. Langley                                                    248

Rupert Brooke                                                        274

Herbert C. Hoover                                                    300

The Belgian Children’s Christmas Card                                317




THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND: JOHN MUIR

    Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
    Nature’s peace will flow into you
    As sunshine into trees;
    The winds will blow their freshness into you,
    And the storms their energy;
    While cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
               JOHN MUIR.




HEROES OF TO-DAY




THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND


A small Scotch laddie was scrambling about on the storm-swept, craggy
ruins of Dunbar Castle. He was not thinking of the thousand years that
had passed over the grim fortress, or of the brave deeds, celebrated in
legend and ballad, that its stones had witnessed. He was glorying in his
own strength and daring that had won for him a foothold on the highest
of the crumbling peaks, where he could watch the waves dash in spray,
and where, with out-flung arms and face aglow with exultation, he felt
himself a part of the scene. Sea, sky, rocks, and wild, boy heart seemed
mingled together as one.

Little John Muir loved everything that was wild. The warnings and
“skelpings” of his strict father could not keep him within the safe
confines of the home garden. The true world was beyond--the salt
meadows, with nests of skylarks and field-mice, the rocky pools along
the shore where one might find crabs, eels, and all sorts of interesting
scaly creatures. But above all, there were the rocky heights where one
might climb.

Sometimes the truant was sent to bed without his supper. But even then
he made opportunities for climbing feats. In company with his little
brother David, John played games of “scootchers” (dares) in which the
boys crept out of their dormer-windows and found congenial
mountaineering exercise on the slate roof, sometimes hanging from the
eaves by one hand, or even--for an instant--by a single finger.

It was only on Saturdays and during vacations, however, that these lads
could taste the delights of roving. Johnnie Muir’s school-days began
when he was not quite three years old. Can you picture the sturdy infant
trudging along, with the sea-wind blowing out behind him like a flag the
little green bag that his mother had hung around his neck to hold his
first book? This infant had already learned his letters, however, from
the shop signs, and it was not long before he passed the first
mile-stone and spelled his way into the second book. When eight years
old, John entered the grammar-school. Here he studied Latin and French,
besides English, history, geography, and arithmetic. In regard to the
methods employed, this doughty Scotchman used to say, with a twinkle:
“We were simply driven pointblank against our books like a soldier
against the enemy, and sternly ordered: ‘Up and at ’em! Commit your
lessons to memory!’ If we failed in any part, however slight, we were
whipped, for the grand, simple, Scotch discovery had been made that
there was a close connection between the skin and the memory, and that
irritating the skin excited the memory to any required degree.”

From the school playground the boys loved to watch the ships at sea and
guess where they were bound. In stormy weather, that brought the salt
spume from the waves over the wall, they often saw the brave vessels
tossed against the rocky shore. Many of John’s school-books showed ships
at full sail on the margins, particularly the one that stirred his
imagination most--the reader which told about the forests of America,
with their wonderful birds and sugarmaple trees.

One evening, when John and David were loyally trying to forget dreams of
voyages to magic lands where brave adventure awaited one at every turn,
and master their lessons for the next day, their father came into the
room with wonderful news.

“Bairns,” he said, “you need na learn your lessons the nicht, for we’re
gaen to America the morn!”

How the words sang in their hearts! “America the morn!” Instead of
grammar, a land where sugar-trees grew in ground full of gold; with
forests where myriads of eagles, hawks, and pigeons circled about
millions of birds’ nests; where deer hid in every thicket; and where
there was never a gamekeeper to deny a lad the freedom of the woods!

Only their grandfather looked troubled, and said in a voice that
trembled more than usual: “Ah, puir laddies! Ye’ll find something else
ower the sea forby gold and birds’ nests and freedom frae lessons.
Ye’ll find plenty of hard, hard work.”

But nothing could cast a shadow on their joy. “I’m gaen to Amaraka the
morn!” they shouted to their envying, doubting schoolmates.

It took six weeks and a half for the old-fashioned sailing-vessel to
cross the Atlantic. The