"Fifteen or twenty days to make seventy-five miles!" exclaimed Glenarvan.
"At least, my lord. You will have to cross the most difficult portion of Victoria,—plains covered with underbrush, without any cleared roads, where it has been impossible to establish stations. You will have to travel with the hatchet or the torch in your hand; and, believe me, you will not advance rapidly."
Ayrton's tone was that of a man who is thoroughly acquainted with his subject. Paganel, towards whom questioning glances were turned, nodded approvingly at the words of the quartermaster.
"I acknowledge the difficulties," said Captain Mangles, at length. "Well, in fifteen days, my lord, you can send your orders to the Duncan."
"I may add," resumed Ayrton, "that the principal obstacles do not proceed from the roughness of the journey. We must cross the Snowy, and, very probably, have to wait for the subsidence of the waters."
"Wait!" cried the captain. "Can we not find a ford?"
"I think not," replied Ayrton. "This morning I searched in vain for a practicable one. It is unusual to find a river so much swollen at this season; it is a fatality against which I am powerless."
"This Snowy River is broad, then?" remarked Lady Glenarvan.
"Broad and deep, madam," answered Ayrton; "a mile in breadth, with a strong current. A good swimmer could not cross it without danger."
"Well, then, let us build a boat!" cried Robert, who was never at fault for a plan. "We can cut down a tree, hollow it out, embark, and the thing is done."