Mukoki’s voice came strangely from out of the gloom.

“No man do that!  No man—­no man—­”

“Hush!” commanded Rod.  “Now is our time, boys!  Quick, get everything to the creek.  He’s half a mile out on the plain and we can get away before he comes back.  I’d rather risk a few rocks than another one of his golden bullets!”

“So had I!” cried Wabi.

As if their lives depended on their exertions the three set to work.  Mukoki staggered ahead over the rocks with his burden while the boys followed with the light canoe and the remaining pack.  Their previous experiences in the chasm had taught them where to approach the stream, and ten minutes later they were at its side.  Without a moment’s hesitation Mukoki dropped his pack and plunged in.  The edge of the moon was just appearing over the southern mountain wall and by its light Rod and Wabigoon could see that the water of the creek was rushing with great swiftness as high as the old warrior’s knees.

“No ver’ deep,” said the Indian.  “Rocks—­”

“I followed this creek for half a dozen miles and its bottom is as smooth as a floor!” interrupted Rod.  “There’s no danger of rocks for that distance!”

He made no effort now to suppress the pleasure which he felt at the escape from their unpleasant situation.  Mukoki steadied the canoe as it was placed in the water, and was the last to climb into it, taking his usual position in the stern where he could use to best advantage the powerful sweeps of his paddle.  In an instant the swift current of the little stream caught the birch bark and carried it along with remarkable speed.  After several futile strokes of his paddle Wabi settled back upon his heels.

“It’s all up to you, Muky,” he called softly.  “I can’t do a thing from the bow.  The current is too swift.  All you can do is to keep her nose straight.”

The light of the moon was now filling the chasm and the adventurers could see distinctly for a hundred yards or more ahead of them.  Each minute seemed to add to the swiftness and size of the stream, and by the use of his paddle Wabi found that it was constantly deepening, until he could no longer touch bottom.  Rod’s eyes were ceaselessly on the alert for familiar signs along the shore.  He was sure that he knew when they passed the spot where he killed the silver fox, and he called Wabi’s attention to it.  Then the rocks sped past with increasing swiftness, and as the moon rose higher the three could see where the overflowing torrent sent out little streams that twisted and dashed themselves into leaping foam in the wildness of the chasm beyond the main channel.  These increased in number and size as the journey continued, until Mukoki began to feel the influence of their currents and called on Wabi and Rod for assistance.  Suddenly Rod gave a muffled shout as they shot past a mass of huge boulders on their right.

“That’s where I camped the night I dreamed of the skeletons!” he cried.  “I don’t know what the stream is like from here on.  Be careful!”