o strong."

"They tell me that they are not going to drag all the scows across,"
said John. "They're going to try to run that bad chute below our
landing with a couple of scows. The men say it takes too long to wagon
them across, and they would much rather take the chance."

"Fine!" said Rob. "We'll go make some pictures of them as they go
through."

"Hurry on, then," rejoined John, "and get Jesse. We ought to get some
fine pictures there. I've been down and seen that place, and the water
drops higher than the roof of a house and goes through a narrow place
where you could touch both sides with the oars."

It was indeed as they had said--the half-breeds, careless ever of
danger, and willing only to work when work was necessary, actually did
run two scows down the narrow chute of the Middle Rapids. The boys,
cameras in hand, did their best to make pictures of the event, and
stood hardly breathing as they saw the boats go down the toboggan-like
incline between two great boulders which the poles of the boatmen
touched on either side.

As the scow struck the level water at the foot of this chute or
cascade, her bow was submerged for almost a third of the length, and
the men in front were wet waist-high. She still floated, however, as
she swung into the strong current below, and the men with shouts of
excitement rowed and poled her ashore. To them it seemed much better
to take a half-hour of danger than a half-day of work. As a matter of
fact, both boats came through not much the worse for wear, and perhaps
not as badly damaged as they would have been if dragged on the rollers
across the rocky hillside.

"Well, boys," said Uncle Dick to them, as at length he found them
returning from this exciting incident, "it's time to eat again. It
ought to please you, John. These men have to work so hard that they
are fed four times a day. This is meal Number Four we're going to have
now."

John laughingly agreed to this, and soon their party were seated
cross-legged, with their tin plates, around the stove which the
contractor's cook had set up on the shore. The delay was not very
long, for now, after finishing the second portage of the boats, the
men fell to and slid the last of the scows down a twenty-five-foot
bank and once more into the current of the stream.

The next great labor of this short but strenuous sixteen miles was, so
they were informed, to come at the Mountain Portage, a spot historic
in all the annals of the