“True, Max—what then?”
“Why then,” said I, “what would you say if I were to construct a saw-mill!”
“I’d say you were a clever fellow,” replied my friend, with one of his knowing looks.
“But what say you to my making the attempt?”
“Do so, by all means, my boy—only don’t use up too many pit-saws in the attempt!”
I saw that he did not believe in my powers, and became all the more determined to succeed.
Accordingly, I went next day with Coppet and Dumont, on whom of course I depended for the carrying out of my designs, to examine the ground where the mill-dam was to be made.
“You see,” I explained, “we have a superabundance of water in the rivulet at the back of the fort, and by collecting it we may get any amount of power we please, which is of importance, because it will enable us to simplify the machinery.”
“Oui, oui, monsieur,” said Coppet, who either was, or wished to appear, very knowing on such matters.
“Now,” continued I, “here is a natural basin formed by rocks, which only wants a small dam at its lower end to enable us to collect water enough to drive the biggest mill in the world. By making our opening at the very bottom of the basin, the pressure of water, when it is full, will be so great that a very small water-wheel, without any multiplying gear, will suffice to drive our saw—don’t you see?”