“Well,” said Rob, as he bent over the book once more. “Here’s Sir Alexander’s story, and here’s a map I made myself. That way, to the west, is the little lake where the Bad River runs out to another river that runs into the Fraser. This lake drains into that little lake. There’s another lake east of here, according to the story; and when we get there we’ll strike a deep, clear creek which will take us pretty soon into the Parsnip River. From there it’s all downhill.”
“Yes,” said Alex, smiling, “considerably downhill.”
“It’s said there was a current westward in this middle lake,” began John.
“Certainly,” Rob answered, “we are really now on Pacific waters.”
“How far is it across to the other lake?” asked Jesse.
“The portage is just eight hundred and seventeen paces,” replied John, promptly. “I remember that’s what Mackenzie wrote down.”
“Fraser in his journal calls it ‘between eight and nine hundred paces,’” said Rob. “Anyhow, that portage goes over the top of the Rocky Mountain range at this place—that’s the top of the divide. Nearly all these natural passes in the mountains run up on each side to a sort of flat place. Anyhow, when we get over that portage we’re on Peace River waters. In yonder direction the waters run into the Pacific. To the east they go into the Arctic. I’m ready to start now, and anxious to get over the height of land.”
“She’ll be downheel then,” laughed Moise. “All same roof on the house, maybe so.”
“You’re not scared, are you, Moise?” asked Rob, smiling.