he wide eastern end of the valley, which
broadens out near the historic Tete Jaune Cache, they made rapid
progress, animated by the continually changing scene before them.

For the last five miles they were in a broad, grassy valley where many
hoofs had worn a plainly marked trail. On ahead they could see the
Fraser swinging in from its southwest bend to meet them. The courses
of many other small streams, outlined by green bushes, also could be
seen coming in from almost every direction. Farther to the west and
south lofty mountains rose, broken by caps which seemed to be of no
great altitude. The Selwyns, on the other side of the Fraser, stood
behind them, and off on the right gradually rose the high, sweeping
hills which climbed to the shoulders of Mount Robson itself. The whole
made an extraordinary landscape.

"We're in the Tete Jaune Valley," said Uncle Dick, halting at the edge
of the grassy expanse which seemed quite flat for five miles or so
ahead of them. "We're coming now to one of the most interesting points
in all the Rocky Mountains, and one of the least known. Some day,
where we are here, there will be a town, perhaps a good one. Yonder is
the original pathway of the Fraser--five hundred feet across here
already, and a great river before it gets much farther toward the
Pacific. We leave it here, so let's not give it a worse name than we
have to, for, take it all in all, it hasn't harmed us thus far.

"On across the Fraser, to the south, is the North Thompson," he
continued. "Not very much known by any except a few of our explorers.
It's rather rough-looking in there, isn't it? The Albreda Pass makes
up from the Thompson, over yonder where you see the big mountains
rising."

"Is that where we go to get to the Canoe River?" said John. "It's over
in there somewhere."

"No, the pass to the Canoe River is a wonderful thing in its way for
this high country. Look over there to the south twenty miles or so,
and you'll see Cranberry Lake. The McLennan River runs out of that to
join the Fraser right here, and that lake is just twenty-one feet
above the level of this ground where we stand! You could pole a boat
up there if you liked. Just over Cranberry Lake it's only a mile to
where the Canoe River bends in from the west. That country is just
made for a pass from the Fraser to the Columbia, and to my mind it's
quite as interesting as any of these great mountain passes. I don't
know of any divide as low as this