“Over there!” She pointed to the giant peaks projecting here and there in dim, blue waves beyond the Great Craggy Range in the foreground.
“Holy Moses! Do we have to climb those crags before we start?”
“To go to Black Mountain?”
“Yes. That's where the lawyer said they lived, under Cat-tail Peak in the Black Mountain Range—wherever t'ell that is.”
“No, no! You don't climb the Great Craggy; you go around this end of it and follow the Swannanoa River right up to the foot of Mount Mitchell, the highest peak this side of the Rockies. The Cat-tail is just beyond Mount Mitchell.”
“You've been there?” he asked in surprise.
“Once, with a party from Asheville. We spent three days and slept in caves.”
“Suppose you'd know the way now?”
“We couldn't miss it. We follow the bed of the Swannanoa to its source——-”
“Then that settles it. We'll go by ourselves. I don't want any mutt along to show us the way. We couldn't get lost nohow, could we?”