he
lake where the rapids began, that the hours glided by till late in the
afternoon, and still the task was not done.

"Who could have thought it would take so long?" said Dallas at last.
"You see, we have everything to cut."

"No one, my son," said their big friend, smiling; "but I bet we
shouldn't have got the job done for us in double the time."

"It would be madness to start to-night."

"Stark. Couldn't get loaded up before dark, and then it'll be like
pitch. Let's cut some poles for punting and a mast to make a bit of
sail if we like, and then I think we may say that we have got our job
well done, ready for loading up and starting in the morning."

"Yes," said Abel, who seemed little the worse for his last mishap; "it
was better to make a good job of the raft."

"And that we've done," said the Cornishman.

The poles were cut, trimmed, and laid upon the deck, which had been
finished after launching; and now, as they examined their work, all were
satisfied that it could not have been done better in the time, for as it
lay in the clear water, swinging by a rope secured to a pine-stump, all
felt that it would easily bear the party, their sledges and stores; and
the pity seemed to be that it could not be used for the whole of their
journey.

"Who knows? Perhaps it may."

There was an hour's daylight yet, and this was utilised down on the
sandy shore of the stream which ran into the lake hard by.

It was the first trial, and no little interest was felt as every man
waded into the icy cold water, pannikin in hand, to scoop the sand aside
and then get a tinful from as deep down as they could.

This was washed and watched beneath the water, the stones thrown out,
and washed again, till only a little sand remained, and this was
carefully examined.

"Gold!" cried Dallas excitedly; and this was eagerly responded to by the
others, for in every pan there was some of the precious metal, but such
tiny grains that it was decided that a halt would be useless there.

"Farther on," said Dallas excitedly; "this is only the edge of the
golden land, but here is proof that we are going right."

"Yes," said the big Cornishman; "but I don't rest till we can shovel it
up like gravel from a pit."

Darkness put an end to their search, and once more the fire was
quenched, and in silence they sought the shelter of the great tree,
placed their arms ready, rolled themselves in their blankets, and were
soon asleep.

It seeme