cale fifty miles or so out of the way?"

Wabi looked at him, only partly understanding.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that our third waterfall is more than likely to be mighty
close to this one! And if it is--well, John Ball had a reason, and a
good one! If we strike the last fall to-morrow it will be pretty
good proof that he drew the map in a way intended to puzzle
somebody,--perhaps his two partners, who were just about to start for
civilization."

"Muky, how far have we come?" asked Wabigoon.

"T'ree time first fall," replied the old Indian quickly.

"A hundred and fifty miles--in three days and one night. I don't
believe that is far out of the way. Then, according to the map, we
should still be a hundred miles from the third fall."

"And we're not more than twenty-five!" declared Rod confidently.
"Let's build a fire and go to bed. We'll have enough to do
to-morrow--hunting gold!" The fourth day's journey was begun before it
was yet light. Breakfast was eaten in the glow of the camp-fire, and
by the time dawn broke the adventurers were already an hour upon their
way. Nothing but confidence now, animated them. The mad hunter and his
golden bullets were entirely forgotten in these last hours of their
exciting quest. Once, far back, Rod had thought with chilling dread
that this might be the madman's trail, that his golden bullets might
come from the treasure they were seeking. But he gave no thought to
this possibility now. His own belief that the third and last fall was
not far distant, in spite of the evidence of the map, gradually gained
possession of his companions, and the nerves of all three were keyed
to the highest tension of expectancy. The preceding night Mukoki had
made himself a paddle to replace the one he had broken, and not a
stroke of the three pairs of arms was lost. Early in the morning a
young moose allowed them to pass within a hundred yards of him. But no
shot was fired, for to obtain the meat would have meant an hour's loss
of time.

Two hours after the start the country again began taking on a sudden
change. From east and west the wild mountain ridges closed in, and
with each mile's progress the stream narrowed and grew swifter, until
again it was running between chasm walls that rose black and silent
over the adventurers' heads. Darker and gloomier became the break
between the mountains. Far above, a thousand feet or more, dense
forests of red pine flung their thick shadows over the ed