am flowed between them and the camp; and
although not a large river, yet at that place it was very wide and deep,
for in the flat table valley it expanded to the dimensions of a little
lake.

Below, where it issued out of the valley, it ran for some distance in a
deep cleft between rocky banks almost or quite perpendicular, and above
the valley it came dashing through an impassable ravine. If they could
only get over to cut the palms, they knew they could roll them to the
bank, and float them across the stretch of still water. But how to get
over required some consideration. Guapo could swim like a water-dog, but
Don Pablo could not; and Leon, having been brought up as a town boy, had
had but little practice, and consequently was but a poor swimmer. What,
then, was to be done, as Guapo could not well manage the palms without
help?

After examining the stream, both above and below, no crossing place
could be found, but just at the point where it ran out of the valley,
the space between the high banks was very narrow. A good long plank
would have reached across it--had they only had one--but that they had
not. Now, upon the opposite bank there grew a tall tree. It was one of
the beautiful silk-cotton trees already mentioned. It stood upon the
very edge of the chasm. Both Don Pablo and Guapo saw at a glance that
this tree could be felled, and made to fall across the stream, so as to
form the very bridge they wanted.

Not much time was lost about it. Guapo, tying his axe upon his
shoulders, ran up the near side, until he was opposite the still running
water; and then plunging in, swam across in a few seconds. He soon after
appeared on the opposite bank, at the root of the bombax, which he
attacked in such a manner that one who did not know what he was about
might have fancied he was angry at it. In a few minutes a great notch
appeared in the side of the tree, and Guapo continuing his sturdy blows,
made the yellow chips fly out in showers. Of course the notch was cut on
the side next the stream, so that the tree would fall in that direction.
The beaver understands that much, and Guapo had considerably more
intelligence than any beaver.

In about half-an-hour the bombax began to creak and lean a little. Then
Don Pablo threw over a lasso, which had been brought along. Guapo noosed
one end over a high limb, and tying a stone to the other, pitched it
back to Don Pablo, who hauled it taut. Then a few cuts of the axe broke
th