“Let’s go up and help him, fellows!” exclaimed John.
Alex restrained them. “No, you mustn’t do that.” John stopped rather abashed.
“You see,” explained the old hunter, “you are concerned in this, so you must not help.”
“I don’t understand—” began John.
“Well, the truth is, we are going to give you a celebration. In short, we are making a monument for you young gentlemen, all of you.”
Rob broke into the conversation. “A monument? But we’re not dead, and aren’t going to be soon!”
“This is a monument of the Far North. It is not necessary to die. We are making you what we call a ‘lob-stick,’ or ‘lop-stick.’”
“I never heard of anything like that.”
“Very likely not. Nor do I suppose there is one this far to the west, although there are some which we may see down the Peace River. Had Mackenzie and Fraser got their dues, each of them would have had a ‘lob-stick’ somewhere in here. Probably they were too busy in those days. But if either of them had had a ‘lob-stick’ made for him it would very likely be standing to-day. In that case every man who went past on the river would know why it had been given.”