ences.

Bill Brudenell sat in the middle of the canoe, a smallish, thickly
coated figure with a beaver cap pressed low down on his iron gray head.
Kars and the Indian were at the paddles, kneeling and resting against
the struts. Kars was in the bow. He was a skilled paddle, but just
now the Indian claimed responsibility for their destination and the
landing. Charley, in consequence, felt his importance. Besides, there
was the praise for his skilful navigation yet to come.

The rhythmic pressure of the paddles was perfectly muffled. The stream
was with them. It was a swift and silent progress. For all his
knowledge and experience Kars had difficulty in recognizing their
course. Then there were possible submerged boulders and other "snags"
and their danger to the frail craft. But these things were quite
undisturbing to the scout. His sight seemed to possess something of
feline powers. His sense of locality, and of danger, were something
almost uncanny on the water. He had made their present journey once
before, and his sureness was characteristic of his native instincts.

The journey occupied perhaps a quarter of an hour. Then a low spoken
order came from the Indian.

"Charley tak' him," was all he said, and Kars, obediently, shipped his
paddle.

Then came an exhibition of canoeing which rewarded the white men for
their faith in their disreputable henchman. Charley played with the
light craft in the great volume of stream as a feather might yield to a
gentle breeze. The canoe sidled in to the shore through a threatening
shoal of rocky outcrop, and the first stage of the journey was
completed.

The second stage began after the little craft had been lifted and
placed high above the water's level. Scarcely a word was spoken as the
various articles were taken out of it, and matters were adjusted.
There was nothing slipshod in the arrangements. Every precaution was
taken. These men knew, only too well, the hazard of their undertaking,
and the necessity for provision against emergency.

The profound darkness was their cover. It was also their danger.
There was no light anywhere under the clouded sky. The northern lights
were hidden, and not even a star was visible. It was what they
desired, what they needed. But the gaping jaws of the profound gorge
might easily form a trap for their undoing.

Charley led the way over the rocks, and the murmur of cascading waters
greeted the white men's ears.