“What would we do if that sort of thing happened?” demanded John.
“Well,” said Uncle Dick, “we’d do precisely what other fellows have done when that happened to them. But it hasn’t happened yet, and maybe won’t at all.”
“It’s over a thousand feet high,” said Rob, standing and looking at the face of the big cliff ahead of them.
“Yes, and that means a thousand feet down on the other side, too. Worse than that, it means fording the Rocky River on beyond, and she’s a wild one. Then you’ve got to ford the Maligne, as well as a lot of little creeks. After that you’ve got to ford the Athabasca—because we’ve got to get across the Athabasca in order to go up the Miette River to the Yellowhead Pass.”
The boys stood silent, looking at one another, none too happy at these hardships and dangers which confronted them.
“Don’t look so glum,” said Uncle Dick. “I’ve been over this trail three times each way, and the old traders used to cross here dozens of times each way and thought nothing of it. You must learn to be like soldiers, and be contented if you have a good supper and a good place to sleep. Besides, I’ve got a plan that I’ll tell you about in the morning.”