“The fire was in the pines west of the shanty when I entered it,” answered the young man, “and the smoke was so thick that I couldn’t see it from the river as I landed.”

“I conceited as much,” replied the trapper, “I conceited as much.  Yis, I knowed ’twould be a close shave ef ye got ’em, and I feared ye would run a resk that ye oughtn’t to run, in yer love for the dogs.”

“I didn’t propose to leave the dogs to die,” responded the young man; “I think I should have heard their cries in my ears for a year, had they been burned to death in the shanty where we left them.”

“Ye speak with right feelin’, Herbert,” replied the trapper.  “No, a hunter has no right to desart his dog when danger be nigh; for the Creator has made ’em in their loves and their dangers, alike.  Did ye save the powder and the bullits, boy?”

“I did not,” responded Herbert; “the sparks were all around me and the shanty was smoking while I was feeling around for the dogs’ leash.  I heard the canister explode before I reached the first bend.”

“’Twas a narrer rub, boy,” rejoined the trapper.  “Yis, I can see ’twas a narrer rub ye had of it, and the holes in yer shirt show that the sparks was fallin’ pritty thick and pritty hot, too, when ye come out of the shanty.  How does the stroke tell on ye, boy?” continued the old man, interrogatively.  “Ye be pullin’ a slashin’ stroke, ye see, and there’s five mile more of it, ef there’s a rod.”

“The stroke begins to tell on my left side,” answered Herbert; “but if you were sitting where you could see what’s coming down upon us as I can, you would see it wasn’t any time for us to take things leisurely.”

“Lord, boy,” rejoined the trapper, “do ye think I haven’t any ears?  The fire’s at the fourth bend above us and the pines on the ridge we passed five minutes ago ought to be blazin’ by this time.  Ah me, boy, this isn’t the fust time I’ve run a race with a fire of the devil’s own kindlin’, alone and in company, both.  And my ears have measured the roar and the cracklin’ ontil I can tell to a rod, eenamost, how fur the red line be behind me.”

“What do you think of our chances?” queried his companion; “shall we get over the carry in time? for I suppose we are making for the big pool, are we not?”

“Yis, we be makin’ for the pool,” replied the trapper, “for it’s the only safe spot on the river; and as for the chances, I sartinly doubt ef we can fetch the carry in time.  Ef the fire isn’t there ahead of us, it will be on us afore we could git to the pool at the other eend.”

“Why can’t we run the rapids?” asked Herbert promptly.

“The rapids can be run, as you and me know,” responded the old man, “for we have both did it, although they be onusually swift, and there be spots where good jedgment and a quick paddle is needed.”

“Why,” exclaimed Herbert, “the last time we went down we never took in a drop of water.”