“Well,” said Rob, thoughtfully, after a time, “after all, the best way to learn about a country is to go and see it yourself. You can read all about it in books, but still it looks different when you come to see it yourself.”
“Wait till I get my map done,” said John, “and many a time after this we’ll talk it all over, and we can tell on the map right where we were all the time.”
“Well, you’re at the summit now at this camp,” said Uncle Dick. “Yonder to the east is Miette water. Over yonder is the Fraser. It’s downhill from here west, and sometimes downhill rather faster than you’ll like. We’ve come a couple of hundred miles on our journey to the summit here, and in a little more than fifty more we’ll be at the Tête Jaune Cache. That’s on the Fraser—and a wicked old river she is, too.”
“How’s the trail between here and there, Uncle Dick?” asked Jesse, somewhat anxiously.
“Bad enough, you may depend.”
“And don’t we get any more fishing?”
Uncle Dick smiled. “Well, I’ll tell you,” said he; “we’ll probably not have a great many chances for trout as good as we’ll have to-morrow. It’s only two or three miles from here to Yellowhead Lake, and I think we’ll find that almost as good a fishing-place as Rainbow Lake was the other day.”