"Make them of granite from the hill back of the fort," said Cannon.
"What power?"
"Cattle power."
"Go ahead then," was the governor's answer.
Cannon worked beneath a mighty fir that stands to-day on the old fort plain. He made his frame of fir, and the cogs and wheels of oak hardened by boiling in seal-oil. He worked his burrs down from rough granite with a cold-chisel.
"What are you making that for?" inquired Tom McKay's little Billy as Cannon smoothed the long main-shaft from a comely fir. Little Billy was three quarters Indian and bright, bright as a bluejay. " What are you making that for? "again piped the watchful little interrogation point.
"A whip-handle for the governor," answered the crusty miller, making a sharp eye at the little boy.
All was set up. The oxen were yoked, old Brandy and Lion brought up from California in the "CadboroV Wheat was put in, the whole fort came out to watch, the main-shaft turned, and lo! it ground out flour, the first flour on the Columbia.
Then Cannon built an old-fashioned over-shot wheel saw-mill. Lumber began to accumulate, so that every summer the Hudson's Bay ship left her Indian goods and taking on lumber went over to the Sandwich Islands. In November she came back for her London load of furs. The same ship was lying there now, furs all laden, her officers up at the governor's banquet.
"And how is competition now, Mr. John? How is competition now? "inquired Dr. McLoughlin of John Dunn just down from the northwest coast.
"Poor picking, Governor, poor picking for the Bos
