“When do we leave for this promised land o’ gold and sixty degrees below zero?” inquired impatient red-headed Bill.
“It’s about the right time of the year for us to be pilgriming now,” returned his partner; “that’s why I’m here.”
“How long will it take us to get up there?”
“Oh, about three weeks or so if we make connections and don’t lose too much time on the way.”
“Then I takes it the weather’ll still be warm when we arrives. We’ll get a canoe, or maybe a couple o’ them, and paddle up this Big Black River until we comes to the land of the Yeehats,” suggested Bill.
“No, that’s not my idea of it at all. You see, Bill, so much of the country where we are going is low that it is more or less wet all the time and it would make traveling overland in summer with our outfit a hard game. The way I’ve figured it out is that we ought to start from Circle City when winter sets in and travel by dogsled; then we can go up or down rivers, over them, cut cross country, yes, to the North Pole if we want to, and without any hard work on our part.
“Winter sets in early up there and by the time we reach Circle, get our outfit, learn the lay of the land, hear what all the old timers have to say and the first snow begins to fly, we’ll be just about ready to strike out.”
Bill shoved his hands in his pockets, went to the window and focused his eyes on a great warship that lay at anchor in the Hudson. He was wondering, not about the craft for he knew all about her and every other kind afloat; he likewise knew about some of those craft that navigated the land as for instance hawses, but this traveling in winter in search of gold with dog-sleds was a deep mystery to him.
“In winter the gold’ll be snowed under and we’d never find it I’m a-thinkin’,” he said thoughtfully.
“Take it from me, Bill, wherever the gold has been cached there will be signs that will point out the place as plain as the nose on your face. All we’ve got to do is to find the signs—uncovering the gold will be easy,” argued Jack.