His valley must be hemmed in. The only way to
market must lie _down_ the valley, with the river. And the river that
flowed down his valley must be swift, with sufficient volume all twelve
months of the year to turn possible mill wheels.... As yet he thought
only of the direct application of power. He had not dreamed yet of great
turbine generators which should transport thousands of horse power,
written in terms of electricity, hundreds of miles across country, there
to light cities and turn the wheels of huge manufactories....
Coldriver Valley was that valley! He felt it as soon as he turned into
it; certainty increased as he progressed between those gigantic walls
black with tall, straight, beautiful spruce. So, when he sat shoeless,
resting his blistered feet on Locker's porch, he was ready to make his
decision. The mere making of it was a negligible detail.
So Scattergood Baines found his valley. He entered it consciously as an
invader, determined to conquer. Pitiful as were the resources of Cortez
as he adventured against the power of Montezuma, or of Pizarro as he
clambered over the Peruvian Andes, they were gigantic compared with
Scattergood's.
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