they had passed
through, and Miki, looking down stream, saw the quiet shores again, the
deep forest, and the stream aglow with the warm sun. He drew in a
breath that filled his whole body and let it out again with a sigh of
relief so deep and sincere that it blew out a scatter of foam from the
ends of his nose and whiskers. For the first time he became conscious
of his own discomfort. One of his hind legs was twisted under him, and
a foreleg was under his chest. The smoothness of the water and the
nearness of the shores gave him confidence, and he proceeded to
straighten himself. Unlike Neewa he was an experienced VOYAGEUR. For
more than a month he had travelled steadily with Challoner in his
canoe, and of ordinarily decent water he was unafraid. So he perked up
a little, and offered Neewa a congratulatory yip that was half a whine.

But Neewa's education had travelled along another line, and while his
experience in a canoe had been confined to that day he did know what a
log was. He knew from more than one adventure of his own that a log in
the water is the next thing to a live thing, and that its capacity for
playing evil jokes was beyond any computation that he had ever been
able to make. That was where Miki's store of knowledge was fatally
defective. Inasmuch as the log had carried them safely through the
worst stretch of water he had ever seen he regarded it in the light of
a first-class canoe--with the exception that it was unpleasantly
rounded on top. But this little defect did not worry him. To Neewa's
horror he sat up boldly, and looked about him.

Instinctively the cub hugged the log still closer, while Miki was
seized with an overwhelming desire to shake from himself the mass of
suds in which, with the exception of the end of his tail and his eyes,
he was completely swathed. He had often shaken himself in the canoe;
why not here? Without either asking or answering the question he did it.

Like the trap of a gibbet suddenly sprung by the hangman, the log
instantly responded by turning half over. Without so much as a wail
Miki was off like a shot, hit the water with a deep and solemn CHUG,
and once more disappeared as completely as if he had been made of lead.

Finding himself completely submerged for the first time, Neewa hung on
gloriously, and when the log righted itself again he was tenaciously
hugging his old place, all the froth washed from him. He looked for
Miki--but Miki was gone. And then he felt