Continually there was something new for the travelers, even after they had finished their steamboat journey across the lake on the second day. Now they were passing down through the deep and crooked little river which connects Slave Lake with the Athabasca River. They made what is known as the Mirror Landing portage in a York boat which happened to be above the rapids of the Little Slave River, where a wagon portage usually is made of some fifteen or sixteen miles. Here on the Athabasca they found yet another steamboat lying alongshore, and waiting for the royal mails from Peace River Landing.

This steamer, the North Star, in common with that plying on Little Slave Lake, they discovered to be owned by a transportation company doing considerable business in carrying settlers and settlers’ supplies into that upper country. Indeed, they found the owner of the boat, a stalwart and kindly man, himself formerly a trader among the Indians, and now a prominent official in the Dominion government, ready to accompany them as far as Athabasca Landing, and eager to talk further with Mr. Wilcox regarding coming development of the country which Moise had called the Land of Plenty.

They found that the Athabasca River also flows to the northward in its main course, joining the water of the Peace River in the great Mackenzie, the artery of this region between the Rockies and the Arctics; but here it makes a great bend far to the south, as though to invite into the Far North any one living in the civilized settlements far below. Their maps, old and new, became objects of still greater interest to the young travelers, both on board the vessel, where they had talked with every one, as usual, regarding their trip and the country, and after they had left the steamer at the thriving frontier town of Athabasca Landing.

Here they were almost in touch with the head of the rails, but still clinging to their wish to travel as the natives long had done, they took wagon transportation from Athabasca Landing to the city of Edmonton, something like a hundred miles southward from the terminus of their water journey. At this point, indeed, they felt again that their long trail was ended, for all around them were tall buildings, busy streets, blazing electric lights, and all the tokens of a thriving modern city. Here, too, they and their journey became objects of newspaper comment, and for the brief time of their stay the young voyageurs were quite lionized by men who could well understand the feat they had performed.

Mr. Wilcox was obliged to remain in the north for some time yet in connection with his engineering duties, which would not close until the approach of winter. He therefore sent the boys off alone for their railway journey, which would take them first to Calgary, and then across the Rockies and Selkirks through Banff, and forward to Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle, from which latter point they were expected to take coast boats up the long Alaska coast to Valdez—a sea voyage of seven days more from Seattle.

Mr. Wilcox gave them full instructions regarding the remaining portions of their journey, and at length shook hands with them as he left them on the sleeping-car.

“Tell the folks in Valdez that I’ll be back home on one of the last boats. So long! Take care of yourselves!”

He turned, left the car, and marched off up the platform without looking around at them even to wave a hand. His kindly look had said good-by. The boys looked after him and made no comment. They saw that they were in a country of men. They were beginning to learn the ways of the breed of men who, in the last century or so, have conquered the American continent for their race—a race much the same, under whatever flag.

Even on the railway train they found plenty of new friends who were curious to learn of their long journey across the Rockies. The boys gave a modest account of themselves, and were of the belief that almost any one could have done as much had they had along such good guides as Alex and Moise.

The Rockies and the Selkirks impressed them very much, and they still consulted their maps, especially at the time when they found themselves approaching the banks of the Columbia River.

“This river and the Fraser are cousins,” said Rob, “like the Athabasca and the Peace. Both of these rivers west of the Rockies head far to the south, then go far to the north, and swing back—but they run to the Pacific instead of to the Arctic. Now right here”—he put his finger on the place marked as the Yellowhead Pass—“is the head of the Saskatchewan River, and the fur-traders used to cross here from the Saskatchewan to the Columbia just the way Mackenzie and Fraser and Finlay used to cross to the Peace from the Fraser. I tell you what I think, fellows. I’d like to come back next year some time, and have a go at this Yellowhead Pass, the way we did at that on the head of the Peace—wouldn’t you? We could study up on Alexander Henry, and Thompson, and all those fellows, just as we did on Fraser and Mackenzie for the northern pass.”

“Well,” said John, “if we could have Alex and Moise, there’s nothing in the world I’d like better than just that trip.”

“That’s the way I feel, too,” added Jesse. “But now we’re done with this trip. When you stop to think about it, we’ve been quite a little way from home, haven’t we?”

“I feel as though I’d been gone a year,” said John.

“And now it’s all over,” added Rob, “and we’re really going back to our own country, I feel as if it would be a year from here to home.”

Jesse remained silent for a time. “Do you know what I am thinking about now? It’s about our ‘lob-stick’ tree that our men trimmed up for us. We’ll put one on every river we ever run. What do you say to that?”

“No,” replied Rob, “we can’t do that for ourselves—that has to be voted to us by others, and only if we deserve it. I’ll tell you what—let’s do our best to deserve it first!”

The others of the Young Alaskans agreed to this very cheerfully, and thus they turned happily toward home.

THE END

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent.

2. “Uncle Dick” is variously referred to as both Richard Hardy and as Richard Wilcox in the text; in transcribing this book, no effort was made to correct this.