rious every moment.

As they rushed onwards, so the two walls of the canon came
nearer--shutting out the light until the scene resembled the gloomy
depths of a seething cauldron.

Closer and closer came the walls; swifter and swifter rushed the water.

Now the limits were so narrow that the river was but a smooth riband
darting between walls worn glassy by the wear of countless ages.

The friends came so close that they touched one another's shoulders.

That was one moment.

The next instant each felt himself shot forward through a narrow opening
like a cork that is volleyed from a bottle; and when the men came to
realise their position, they found themselves floating on the surface of
a placid lake into which the canon poured its flood.

They looked at one another. The adventure had parted them, but Arnold
laughingly held up a portion of Holden's coat as a banner to signal his
position.

"Our same old luck!" exclaimed Holden, laughing.

"It'll cost you a new coat!" returned Arnold with equal cheer.

It was perhaps a hundred yards to the nearest shore, so the men
immediately started in that direction. Both were considerably exhausted
by the experiences through which they had providentially passed without
serious injury, and consequently the progress was slow.

But at last they reached the bank, where the red and grey willows bent
their long strands in a tangled trellis.

Knee deep in the mud, the men stood upright, to clear the way to
freedom. But, as they parted the nearest branches, a number of arms were
suddenly forced through the scrub; a number of hands gripped them with
irresistible strength; and before they could realise what had happened
they were rudely dragged up the bank of the lake.

CHAPTER II

DEER-STALKING

The boys did not find that time hung heavily on their hands when left to
their own devices.

The two tents that marked the camp at Crane Creek were pitched on a
grassy slope that led down to the Athabasca's dancing waters. This had
been their camp-ground for several days after a desultory hunting
pilgrimage from Loon Portage--the last town where they had left railways
and civilisation. Having penetrated northwards into a region that was
apparently remote from attacks of the plough and beyond the sound of the
rancher's whoop, it was determined to make this a headquarters for a
couple of months or so. Sport in much variety had already been found.
Moose-tracks had been seen in