am and jetsam of this
northern country--miners, prospectors, drifters, government employees,
and adventurers--all caught here as though in the cleats of a flume,
at this focusing-point at the foot of the wild northern waters.

"John," said Jesse, at last, as he drew a full breath of warm yet
invigorating air, "how is your map coming along?"

"Pretty well," replied John. "I've got everything charted this far.
Look here how I've put down our journey through the rapids of the
Slave River; we zigzagged all about. I put down the rocks and the
biggest headlands, so I think I've got it pretty close to correct. I
wonder how we ever got through there, and how the old Company men
first went through."

"Two boats came through directly over the big rapids which we didn't
dare tackle," said Rob. "They were tenderfeet, and they don't know to
this day how lucky they were."

"Well, we were lucky enough, too," said John, "for in spite of our bad
omens at Chippewyan, everything has come through fine. Here we are,
all ready for our last great swing to the North. Look here on the map,
fellows--I always thought that the Mackenzie River ran straight north
up to the Arctic Ocean, but look here--if you start from where we are
right now, and follow the Great Slave River on out through Great Slave
Lake, you'll find it runs almost as much west as it does north. It
lurches clear over toward Alaska, although it's all on British
ground."

Jesse expressed his surprise at seeing so many "common-looking
people," as he called it, up here in the fur country, where he had
expected to find only gaudily dressed traders and trappers; but Rob,
who had observed more closely, explained some of this to him.

"A good many of these people," he said, "are simply drifters who
intend to live any way they can. They make a sort of fringe on the
last thrust of west-bound settler folk; there is always such a wave
goes out ahead of the permanent settlers.

"Not that they can settle this country permanently. They tell me that
they raise potatoes even north of here, and, as you know, they raise
fine wheat at Chippewyan; but this will never be an agricultural
country. No, it's the country of the fur trade--always has been, and I
hope and believe always will be."

"Well," said John, drawing himself up to his full height, "I'm for a
little more excitement. It's getting slow here, watching the people
load the boats."

As to what did happen in the way of interest to