tailieunhanh - THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN A STORY OF THE THREE RIVER COUNTRY

Before the railroad's thin lines of steel bit their way up through the wilderness, Athabasca Landing was the picturesque threshold over which one must step who would enter into the mystery and adventure of the great white North. It is still Iskwatam—the "door" which opens to the lower reaches of the Athabasca, the Slave, and the Mackenzie. It is somewhat difficult to find on the map, yet it is there, because its history is written in more than a hundred and forty years of romance and tragedy and adventure in the lives of men, and is not easily forgotten | From die jarrf s revdwr leaped ÍDTth .1 sudden spent of AJiii ke and Éliitní. f THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN A STORY OF THE THREE RIVER COUNTRY BY JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD AUTHOR OF THE RIVER S END ETC. THE VALLEY OF SILENT MEN Before the railroad s thin lines of steel bit their way up through the wilderness Athabasca Landing was the picturesque threshold over which one must step who would enter into the mystery and adventure of the great white North. It is still Iskwatam the door which opens to the lower reaches of the Athabasca the Slave and the Mackenzie. It is somewhat difficult to find on the map yet it is there because its history is written in more than a hundred and forty years of romance and tragedy and adventure in the lives of men and is not easily forgotten. Over the old trail it was about a hundred and fifty miles north of Edmonton. The railroad has brought it nearer to that base of civilization but beyond it the wilderness still howls as it has howled for a thousand years and the waters of a continent flow north and into the Arctic Ocean. It is possible that the beautiful dream of the real-estate dealers may come true for the most avid of all the sportsmen of the earth the money-hunters have come up on the bumpy railroad that sometimes lights its sleeping cars with lanterns and with them have come typewriters and stenographers and the art of printing advertisements and the Golden Rule of those who sell handfuls of earth to hopeful purchasers thousands of miles away Do others as they would do you. And with it too has come the legitimate business of barter and trade with eyes on all that treasure of the North which lies between the Grand Rapids of the Athabasca and the edge of the polar sea. But still more beautiful than the dream of fortunes quickly made is the deep-forest superstition that the spirits of the wilderness dead move onward as steam and steel advance and if this is so the ghosts of a thousand Pierres and Jacquelines have risen uneasily from their

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