“Now,” Sam said, with a note of pride in his voice, “I’ll bet you didn’t know that you’ve just passed through the biggest shipping highway in the world.”
“Oh, no,” Jerry argued. “You don’t mean that the Soo is bigger than the Panama Canal.”
“And the Suez, too?” Sandy asked.
“Bigger’n both, boys. Of course, I mean more ships pass through these locks. Look,” he said, turning to survey the scene that was rapidly falling behind them. “Just look at that.”
Sandy Steele and Jerry James did take a long look, and when they had finished, they were inclined to agree with Sam. In all, there must have been fifty of those peculiar long boats passing through the locks at one stage or another, their stubby smokestacks sending thin columns of smoke into the darkening sky.
“Boy, oh, boy,” Jerry said. “And to think I never knew there was such a place two weeks ago.”
“You weren’t the only one, Jerry,” Sam said, smiling. “There aren’t too many Americans who know what you mean when you say Sault Sainte Marie.”
“What does that mean, anyway?” Sandy asked.
“Simple. It’s French for Rapids of St. Mary. You see, where we’re sailing now, the St. Mary’s River dropped twenty feet in less than a mile. With all of Lake Superior pouring through here down into Huron, that made for mighty rapid rapids. The Indians used to carry their canoes around the rapids. So did the Frenchies. Of course, as soon as commerce started springing up between the Lakes cities, and as soon as they started tapping all that ore up north, they had to have a way into Lake Superior that was safe for the big boats. So they built the locks.”
Neither youth opened his mouth to speak. They were impressed. But Sam’s reference to the ore deposits had also recalled to their minds the fact that this was no ordinary summer’s voyage for them. During the hard work of the day, and the excitement of pulling poor Cookie out of the water, they had forgotten their resolve to inform Mr. Kennedy of the good news that Captain West was treacherously keeping from him.