oke
in Moise, who very likely did not know what he was talking about.

Alex smiled. "There have always been Mackenzies and Frasers in the fur
trade. This was a long time ago."

"How'll those boy know heem, then?" said Moise. "I don't know. Some
boy she'll read more nowadays than when I'm leetle. Better they know
how to cook and for to keel the grizzly, _hein_?"

"Both," said Alex. "But now we'll read a little, if you please, Moise.
Let's see where we are as nearly as we can tell, according to the old
Mackenzie journal."

"I'll know where we ought for be," grumbled Moise, who did not fancy
this starting-place which had been selected. "We'll ought to been
north many miles on the portage, where there's wagon trail to Lake
McLeod."

"Now, Moise," said Rob, "what fun would that be? Of course we could
put our boats and outfit on a wagon or cart, and go across to Lake
McLeod, without any trouble at all. Everybody goes that way, and has
done so for years. But that isn't the old canoe trail of Mackenzie and
Fraser."

"Everybody goes on the Giscombe Portage now," said Moise.

"Well, all the fur-traders used to come in here, at least before they
had studied out this country very closely. You see, they didn't have
any maps--they were the ones who made the first maps. Mackenzie was
the first over, and he did it all by himself, without any kind of map
to help him."

"Yes, and when he got over this far he was in an awful fix," said
John. "I remember where it says his men were going to leave him and go
back down the Peace River to the east. He wasn't sure his guide was
going to stick to him until he got over to the Fraser, west of here."

"Yes," said Rob, "and there wasn't any Fraser River known by that name
at that time. They all thought it was the Columbia River, which it
wasn't by a long way. But Sir Alexander stuck it out, don't you see.
He was a great man, or he couldn't have done it. I take off my hat to
him, that's what I do."

And in his enthusiasm, Rob did take off his hat, and his young
companions joined him, their eyes lighting with enthusiasm for the man
the simple story of whose deeds had stirred their young blood.

Alex looked on approvingly. "He was of my family," said he. "Perhaps
my great-grandfather--I don't know. He was a good man in the woods.
You see, he went far to the north before he came here--he followed the
Mackenzie River to its mouth in the Arctic Sea. Then he thought there
must be a way acros