Alton took the letters, and his face grew a trifle grim under the flickering light of the lantern as he thrust them crumpled into his pocket.  “From England, and they will keep,” he said.  “There’s nobody I’m anxious to hear from in that country.  Now we’ll go on again, Charley.”

The Cayuse, however, objected, and there was a struggle before Alton convinced it that resistance would be useless, while presently the trail grew steeper and the roar of water came out of the darkness before them.

“This,” said Alton gravely, “is a great country, but it’s mighty unfinished yet, and it kind of hurts me to see all that power wasted.”

“Wasted?” said Seaforth, smiling.  “Don’t the salmon swim in it, and the bear and deer come down to drink?”

“Oh, yes,” said Alton.  “And sometimes the Siwash wash themselves in it too, but that’s not the question.  This earth wasn’t made for the bear and deer, and they’ve thousands of poor folks they can’t find a use for back there in the old country.  Isn’t that so, Charley?”

Seaforth, who was a young Englishman of good upbringing, laughed.  “I have no reason for doubting it,” said he.  “In any case, none of my worthy relations had any use for me.  Still, I don’t see the connection exactly.”

“No?” said Alton.  “Well, it’s simple.  We have the gold and silver, and the coal and iron, too, while it don’t strike one that these forests were put here just to look pretty.”

“The metals you allude to take some trouble in getting out,” said Seaforth dryly.

Alton nodded.  “Of course,” he said.  “That’s what man got his brains for, and the one difference between a white man and a Siwash is that he’s always striking for something better.”

Seaforth laughed.  “You are trying to get at something, as usual,” said he.

“Yes,” said Alton gravely.  “I generally am.  Well, I can see what we don’t want of these forests sailing sawn up to China, and this river sprinkled with sawmills and wood-pulp factories.  Then I can hear the big dynamoes humming, and the thump of the mine stamps run with the current the men who put them down will get for nothing.  What we’re wasting round Somasco is going to feed ten thousand people by and by.”

“It’s a big idea,” said Seaforth reflectively.  “Still, I don’t know that if it were ever put through the place would look any prettier—­and the question is, who’s going to set the whole thing running?”

“God knows,” said Alton gravely.  “But somebody will, and if I live long enough I’ll make a shot at it.  Oh, yes, it’s very pretty as it is, but the greatest thing in this world is man, and it was made as it is for him to master.”

“You have curious notions for a Canadian bush rancher,” said Seaforth.  “You are, however, really an Englishman, aren’t you?”

“No,” said Alton grimly.  “My father used to be, but he was too much of my way of thinking and they fired him out of the country.  It’s a thing I don’t like to talk of, Charley, and just now I’m a low-down packer hauling in a pile of truck I’ll never get paid for.  Steady, come up.  There’s nothing going to hurt you, Julius Caesar.”