“Shake hands, Frank.  You did nobly.  I might have laughed, only I didn’t seem to have breath enough,” said Jerry, but the look in his eyes told how he had enjoyed seeing his chum passing through the same experience.

A fire was made, so that the soaked ones might dry off.  Meanwhile, Mr. Mabie and Will succeeded in successfully shooting the rapids, though the latter was wise enough to leave his precious camera in the care of Bluff.

As noon found them still there, they took a “snack” before resuming the water journey.  Below the fierce rapids the current was still swift, but there were places where the stream widened, and here the scenery was very fine, although the leaves looked more or less parched on account of the scarcity of rain during the summer that was passing.

An hour later, and they saw signs of smoke below.

“The boys have arrived ahead of us,” said Mr. Mabie, pointing to the wreaths that ascended above the trees.

“All on account of our mishap.  We lost three hours that way,” remarked Frank, who felt a little provoked over the accident, since he aspired to be a capable canoeman at all times.

“Those things will happen to the best of guides at times,” consoled the stockman.  “I’ve often been in the drink myself.  There are some cross-currents in our rapids, that one can only learn by experience.  I rather expected you would go over, and instructed Reddy to be on the watch below.”

“I wager I wouldn’t get caught in that same way again, sir,” asserted Frank.

“And I’m sure you wouldn’t, lad.  Experience is the best teacher, and if we didn’t have some of these bad turns we’d grow too confident.”

The camp was soon looking quite cozy again, when the tents had been placed and everything made snug.

“I’m going to like this place almost as well as the one under the cascade,” remarked Will, who had been rather skeptical all along.

So the first evening came along, and supper was the same hearty, enjoyable meal they had always found it.  The camp appetites worked overtime, the coffee tasted splendid, the elk steaks were just what each one had been hungering for, and as the cook supplemented these with a heaping platter of flapjacks the contentment of the four chums seemed complete.

“How long do we stay here, Mr. Mabie?” asked Bluff, never hesitating when in search of information.

“Possibly a week or so.  Then back to the ranch, and a new line of experiences.  This terribly dry weather is making me anxious, for the range is drying up, and we shall be hard set to find pasture for the cattle soon, unless rain comes along.”

“Do you have such a dry spell in summer often up here?” asked Frank.

“Never saw the equal of this since I settled in the valley, many years ago.  Now, down in Ohio, where I originally came from, they have drouths even in May, at times, and I’ve seen things go to the dogs more than once, gardens dried up, and even a forest fire in July, but never up here,” replied the stockman.