"Some day," the chief of the party said, "an enterprising man will start a big farm here, to supply the posts all along the Yukon with provisions, for which they now have to pay big prices on being brought by steamer all the way from Seattle. That man will make ten times as much money as any of the gold mine operators, and besides, will be living in security and comfort."
They halted for the midday stop, a few miles above the junction of the Tanana with the Yukon, and about four o'clock the canoes shot into that great river of the north. Surprised as the boy had been at the size of the Alaskan rivers, he was by no means prepared for the body of water where the Tanana joins the Yukon.
"Why," he said in amaze, "I had no idea it was as big as this."
"Heap big river," commented Harry, who was in the stern.
The chief was in the boat, and hearing the lad's exclamation he turned to him.
"This is the fifth largest river in North America," he said.
"What are the others, Mr. Rivers?" the boy asked. "The Mississippi comes first of course."
"Yes, and then the Mackenzie, the Winnipeg, and the St. Lawrence, in that order. But the Yukon and the St. Lawrence are just about the same size."
"Well," Roger said, "it certainly is big enough."
Harry grunted. "Plenty big to paddle up," he said.