At least, that's my
opinion."

"And you know it's mine," was the response. "But, I say! Do you think we
are wise to keep quite in the centre of the current? It seems to be
driving pretty hard, and we don't know the course. We might wish to land
if we saw rapids."

"I dare say you are right," replied Arnold. "We'll steer straight
across that bend ahead of us. After that we can keep well under the
shadow of the willows--or near them. We will look for a good landing
spot and strike inwards. There ought to be moose or some equally good
sport among those bluffs and clearings."

It is one thing to make plans; it is quite another matter to carry them
out. Especially is this the case when strangers are travelling in
strange country.

Of course the present mode of travel was no novelty to either of the
men. Their youth had been passed in Western Canada (though not in the
vicinity of the present voyage) before their parents sent them home to
college in England. But even the hardened voyager knows that experience
does not anticipate all chances, and this case was no exception to the
rule.

The river was certainly beginning to run at a pace that was perceptibly
swifter than that of the start when two miles farther up. This did not
give any cause for concern, however, for the ears of the travellers were
prepared for any sound that indicated rapids, and there was no other
contingency that they felt need to dread.

At a little distance ahead, the course could be seen to take a sharp
turn to the right, where the dense growth of beech and towering pines
resembled the portals of a giant gateway; and, as it neared the opening,
the canoe swung round the curve with the swift flight of a swallow.

It was a sudden change of pace, due mainly to the sharpness of the turn.
But as soon as the men fully entered the fresh span of the course they
both started involuntarily, for the banks were so steep as to prohibit
landing, and the river narrowed towards a second gateway formed by
towering cliffs--steep as a Colorado canon.

"Look out!" exclaimed Holden, as he knelt high and gripped his paddle
firmly. "Leave the steering to me, I can manage better from the stern.
Come back here if you can."

The canoe had already begun to dance among foaming crests like an
egg-shell.

Arnold crept towards his companion.

"Not a pleasant look out!" he remarked, with a grim smile on his face.
"It will be a marvel if we get through that canon with dry