r long journey from the
Ohio River to the Pacific slope, and, standing on an elevation near the
Columbia, spent hours in looking out upon the face of the mightiest
ocean of the globe. They feasted their vision on the magnificent scene,
with the miles of wilderness, mountain, vale, river and Indian villages
spread between their feet and the ocean.

It was a picture worth journeying across the continent to see. From
beyond the convex world a ship had sailed up to view, its snowy sails
looking at first like a tiny but growing cloud in the soft sky. As the
craft drew steadily nearer, they saw it careening to one side under the
impulse of the wind against the bellying canvas, while the curling foam
at the bows spread out like a fan and dissolved in the clear waters
beyond the stern.

Deerfoot had taken the glass after Mul-tal-la was through, and he stood
for a long time gazing at the waste of waters. None spoke, for there
was that in the scene and the occasion which made all thoughtful. The
grandeur, the majesty, the vastness filled them with awe and held them
mute. Finally, the Shawanoe lowered the instrument, and turning toward
the boys, said gravely, as he pointed first to the east and then to the
west:

"Yonder is the endless forest of wood, and yonder the endless forest of
water; they shall all become the home of the white man."

"I don't doubt you are right," replied George Shelton, "but it will be
hundreds of years after you and I are dead; there is room between here
and the Ohio for millions upon millions, but where will they come
from?"

"The white men will become like the leaves in the forest and the sands
on the seashore; no one can count the numbers that will overspread the
land; they will be everywhere."

"And what of your own people, Deerfoot?" asked Victor.

The dusky youth shook his head, as if the problem was beyond him.

"The two ought to live in peace side by side, for such is the will of
the Great Spirit. The white man cannot become like the red man, but the
red man may grow into the ways of the pale-faces, and all may be
brothers, and so live till time shall be no more."

The theme was too profound for the youths, though it was manifest that
the Shawanoe had given much thought to it. He added nothing, and while
the day was young they walked back to the Columbia, re-entered the
canoe and headed up stream.

Henceforward their work was different from that which they faced when
descending the ri