“Precisely—they call that the Dominion Prairie over yonder. But a mountain pass is rarely what it is supposed to be. Take the Tennessee Pass, for instance, down in Colorado; you’ll see a wide meadow with a dull creek running through it, something like this. The deep gorges and cañons are lower down in the mountains, not on top of them. What you see before you is the old Yellowhead Pass, and we are now almost at the highest point. The grade rises very little from here to the actual summit.”
“Well,” said John, “I never thought I’d be in a place like this in all my life. It seems a long way off from everywhere.”
“It comes near being the wilderness,” said his uncle. “Far north of us is the Peace River Pass, which you made last year. Just the other way is the Athabasca Pass. Yonder, south of us, is Mount Geikie, between us and the Athabasca. Over west is Mount Fitzwilliam, and across the lake from him is Yellowhead Mountain; that’s the one the early traders through here used to call Mount Bingley. And on every side of us there is all kinds of country where, so far as any one knows, no white man’s foot has ever trod. Northwest of the pass and north of here we don’t pretend to map the country, and not one mountain in ten has got its name yet. In short, we are in the wilderness here about as much as you’re apt to be in many a long day’s journey, no matter where you go.”
“And yet right out in there it looks like a farm meadow,” said Jesse, pointing to the green flats broken with willows and poplar mottes here and there.
“Beaver out there one time, no doubt,” said Uncle Dick, “and maybe even now; but sometime there will be farms in here. At least, this is the top of the mountains and the lowest pass in all the Rockies. I’ll show you the actual summit when we come to it.”
They sat for some time looking about them and allowing their horses to graze. All at once Rob broke the silence. “I’m going to be an engineer sometime,” said he. “I believe I’d like to do locating work in wild countries like this.”
“As for me,” said John, “I believe I’d rather stay in the office and make maps and things.”
“And I’m going to be a merchant,” said Jesse, “and I’ll ship things over your road when you get it built.”
“That reminds me,” said Uncle Dick, “you young men have not brought up your own map of the country we have crossed over. You are only using the maps that you could make or buy ready-made. Now, John, suppose you be official map-maker for the party and take your notes from day to day.”
“Pshaw! What do I know about making a map?” said John.