hen, after some ten rods of smooth, swift current, poured down a
cataract of several feet. Huge black rocks, split and tumbled, broke
up the cataract, and the hoarse roar filled the pine woods with sound.

"I move we camp!" said Fred, eyeing this obstacle with disgust.

"Let's get over the carry first and camp at the top," Peter urged.
"Then we'll have a clear start for morning."

Fred grumbled that they would certainly be fresher in the morning than
they were then, but they unpacked the canoe, and began to carry the
outfit around the broken water, as they had done so many tunes that
day. Once at the head of the upper rapid Horace began to get out the
cooking-utensils.

"I'll start supper," he said. "You fellows might see if you can't land
a few trout. There ought to be big fellows between these two cascades."

It did look a good place for trout, and Mac had an appetite for fishing
that no fatigue could stifle. He took the steel fly-rod, and walked a
little way down the stream past the upper rapid. Fred cut a long,
slender pole, tied a line to it and prepared to fish in a less
scientific fashion. As his rod and line were considerably shorter than
Mac's, he got into the canoe, put a loop of the tracking-rope around a
rock, and let himself drift for the length of the rope, nearly to the
edge of the rough water. Hung in this rather precarious position, he
was able to throw his hook into the foamy water just at the foot of the
fall, and had a bite almost instantly, throwing out a good half-pound
fish whose orange spots glittered in the sunlight.

Peter meanwhile was fishing from the shore lower down. The thickets
were farther back from the water than usual, and he had plenty of room
for the back cast. He was kept busy from the first, and when he had
time to glance up Fred seemed to be having equally good luck.

But at one of these hurried glances his eye caught something that
appalled him. The looped rope that held the straining canoe seemed to
be in danger of slipping from its hold on the rock.

He shouted, but the roar of the water drowned his voice. He started up
the bank, shouting and gesticulating, but Fred was busy with a fish and
did not hear or see. Horace was cutting wood at a distance. And at
that moment the rope slipped free. The canoe shot forward, and before
Fred could even drop his rod he was whirled broadside on into the rapid.

Instantly the canoe capsized. Fred went out of sight in t