“We found it on the same principle as they found the Yellowhead Pass,” said Uncle Dick. “When we struck this little creek we knew it must come from somewhere, and as a matter of fact we were hungry for trout. So we followed the creek until we discovered the lake that we call Rainbow Lake, where we are going to-day. It’s bad walking along the creek, however, and we’ll find it much easier to go on up the valley a little way, and then cross over the high ridge to the right. It’s a climb of about a thousand feet, but the going is good, and it’s only a mile or so over to the lake in that way.”
Following their leader, they all started up the valley, each with his fishing-rod in hand. Soon they were making their way up the steep slope of the lofty ridge which lay between the valley and the hidden lake. From time to time they stopped to catch their breath, and at such times sat looking with wonder at the great mountain prospect which rose before them as they climbed.
“It certainly seems as though we were the first to be here,” said Jesse. “You can’t see the track of anybody in here.”
“No,” said Uncle Dick, “no tin cans just yet, and we might as well call ourselves the first, because we’re traveling precisely as the first men did who came through here. But I would like to ask you whether you discovered anything this morning out of the way.”
John and Jesse could not think of anything, but Rob hesitated. “I’ll tell you what,” said he, “it seems to me there must have been more than one trail up this valley. At least, I’ve seen two this morning.”
“Precisely. The main trail ran lower down, below our camp. The other trail which you noticed cut across a low place in this ridge back of us. Now that trail runs right along the side of our little lake over yonder. It passes back above that lake and heads off into the mountains. It’s as deep and broad as the other trail, but nobody seems to know anything about it. It seems to strike in for the mountains somewhere north of Yellowhead Pass. But where does it go? No one can tell you. Is there another pass in there, north of Yellowhead? No one can answer that. Perhaps the two trails meet somewhere between here and the Yellowhead; but if so, no one has found where. That’s a mystery, isn’t it? Some day, if I ever have time, I’m going to follow out that trail and see where it goes.
“But come on,” he concluded; “we’ll go on over the ridge and see the trail itself by the side of the lake.”
They rose now and pushed on up to the top of their steep climb, and soon passed into the dense growth of small pines which covered it. Their leader pushed on ahead, calling to them to follow; and, although the going was very difficult on account of burned timber and tangled undergrowth, they passed on rapidly down the farther slope, until presently they broke from the cover and stood at the edge of the beautiful little mountain lake which lay green and mirrorlike, a mile or so in extent, surrounded closely on all sides by the great mountain walls.
“Well,” said John, “it’s a beauty, sure enough.”
“It certainly is,” said Jesse, “and no tin cans of worm fishermen anywhere along here, either. It looks fishy, too.”