What a pity, what a mockery, it was that this obvious entrance to the country had been blocked by nature! Just at his back was Omar, with its deep and sheltered harbor; the lake he had crossed gave a passage through the guardian range, and this tundra--O'Neil estimated that he could lay a mile of track a day over it--led right up to the glaciers. Once through the Coast Range, building would be easy, for the upper Salmon was navigable, and its banks presented no difficulties to track-laying. He turned abruptly to Appleton, who was pulling an oar. "What do you know about that canyon?" he asked. "Not much. Nobody knows much, for those fellows who went through in the gold rush have all left the country. Gordon's right-of-way comes in above, and so does the Trust's. From there on I know every foot of the ground." "I suppose if either of them gets through to the Salmon the rest will be easy." "Dead easy!" "It would be shorter and very much cheaper to build from Omar, through this way." "Of course, but neither outfit knew anything about the outlet to Omar Lake until I told them--and they knew there was the canon to be reckoned with." "Well?" Appleton shook his head. "Look at it! Does it look like a place to build a railroad?" "I can't tell anything about it, from here." "I suppose a road could be built if the glaciers were on the same side of the river, but--they're not. They face each other, and they're alive, too. Listen!" The oarsmen ceased rowing at Dan's signal, and out of the northward silence came a low rumble like the sound of distant cannonading. "We must be at least twenty miles away, in an air line. The ice stands up alongside the river, hundreds of feet high, and it breaks off in chunks as big as a New York office-building." "You've been up there?" "No. But everybody says so, and I've seen glacier ice clear out here in the delta. They're always moving, too--the glaciers themselves--and they're filled with crevasses, so that it's dangerous to cross them on foot even if one keeps back from the river." "How did those men get their outfits through in '98?" O'Neil queried. "I'm blessed if I know--maybe they flew." After a moment Dan added, "Perhaps they dodged the pieces as they fell." O'Neil smiled. He opened his lips to speak, then closed them, and for a long time kept his eyes fixed speculatively in the direction of the canyon. When he had first spoken of a route from Omar he had thrown out the suggestion with only a casual interest. Now, suddenly, the idea took strong possession of his mind; it fascinated him with its daring, its bigness. He had begun to dream.