“It’s broken!” cried Forrester.  “Poor old Milt!”

Poor old Milt, indeed!  When he finally opened his eyes, he was lying on his blankets on a flat rock, and Jonas and Harden, still dripping, were finishing the fastenings of a rude splint around his left leg.  Enoch was kindling a fire.  Forrester and Agnew were unloading the Ida.  He tried to sit up.

“What the deuce happened?” he demanded.

“That’s what we want to know!” exclaimed Harden cheerfully.

“You had a dizzy attack after you pulled Forr in,” said Enoch, “and rolled off the boat.  Just how you broke your leg, we don’t know.”

“Broke my leg!” Dismay and disbelief struggled in Milton’s face.  “Broke my leg!  Why, but I can’t break my leg!”

“That’s good news,” said Agnew unsmilingly, “and it would be important if it were only true.”

“But I can’t!” insisted Milton.  “What becomes of the work?”

“The work stops till you get well.”  Harden stood up to survey his and Jonas’s surgical job with considerable satisfaction.  “We’ll hurry on down to the Ferry and get you to a doctor.”

Milton sank back with a groan, then hoisted himself to his elbow to say: 

“You fellows change your clothes quick, now.”

The men looked at each other, half guilty.

“What is it!” cried Milton.  “What are you keeping from me.”

“The Na-che’s gone!” Jonas spoke huskily.

“How’d she go?” demanded Milton.

“A sucking whirlpool up there took her, after we struck a rock at the bottom of the falls,” answered Harden.  “We struck at such speed that it stove in her bottom and threw us clear of the whirlpool.  But she’s gone and everything in her.”

“How about the Ida?” Milton’s face was white and his lips were compressed.

“She’ll do, with some patching,” replied Enoch.

“Some leader, I am, eh?” Milton lay back on his blanket.

“I think I’ve heard of a number of other leaders losing boats on this trip,” said Enoch.  “Now, you fellows can dry off piecemeal.  This fire would dry anything.  We’ve got to shift Milton’s clothes somehow.  Lucky for you your clothes were in the Ida, Milt.  Mine were in the Na-che.”

“And two thirds of the grub in the Na-che, too!” exclaimed Agnew.

Jonas had rooted out Milton’s change of clothing and very tenderly, if awkwardly, Agnew and Harden helping, he was made dry and propped up where he could direct proceedings.

“Forrester, I wish you’d bring the whole grub supply here,” Milton said, when his nurses had finished.

It was a pitifully small collection that was placed on the edge of the blanket.

“I wonder how many times,” said Milton, “I’ve told you chaps to load the grub half and half between the boats?  Somebody blundered.  I’m not going to ask who because I’m the chief blunderer myself, for neglecting to check you over, at every loading.  With care, we’ve about two days’ very scanty rations here, and only beans and coffee, at that.  With the best of luck and no stops for Survey work we’re five days from the Ferry.”