At Fort Bentley, three days later, they secured fresh mounts and another pack-horse. It was while they were resting for a few hours here that they received their first disappointing news.
“Big fire raging to the south of here,” stated Nesbitt, the factor. “The area affected is wide—hundreds of square miles, lying on the east side of the Peace. Unless you make a wide detour, you’ll never get through. It will be impossible to travel along the direct route to Peace River Crossing.”
The faces of the three messengers fell.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Sandy.
“My advice to you,” Factor Nesbitt hurried on, “is to proceed straight west to Fort Vermilion, thence travel along the west side of the river until you reach the Crossing.”
“Will there be any chance to get a boat at Vermilion?” Dick asked.
“I should think so. Company boats will be running up to Peace until the freeze-up.”
The boys decided to go that way. Both Dick and Sandy had visited Fort Vermilion on a previous occasion. They recalled with a great deal of pleasure their meeting with Sheridan Lawrence, the intrepid pioneer, who had achieved almost world-wide renown for his enterprise and foresight. There in the heart of a wilderness were hundreds of acres of cultivated fields, mills, an electric light plant, and the bustling activity of a progressive modern village.
Lawrence possessed launches and boats of his own and would be eager to help in a worthy cause. With this valuable assistance, the boys would be able to make the trip from Fort Vermilion to Peace River Crossing in a very short time.
“It’s our best plan,” approved Dick. “Do you suppose, Mr. Nesbitt, that the fire has worked very far north?”