"Why so?" asked Dr. Pestle.
"Because the way this current runs leads me to believe that there must be a falls close by."
"Then we'd better get ashore," remarked Lank Edwards.
"If we do that we will get into trouble. See! both sides of the river are lined with the white savages."
"Well," said Van, after a pause, "I think we had better stick to the raft as long as it holds together under us."
Our hero's words seemed to satisfy all hands, so they settled down and watched the shore, which was flitting by them so rapidly.
In half an hour the country no longer looked as though it was inhabited.
The scene was now one of wild grandeur—sublime and picturesque.
The stream had narrowed down to twice the width of the raft, and our friends knew that it was only a question of a short time before it would strike the shore and be split asunder.
Yet they dared not leave it. To trust themselves in the boiling, surging waters which were now running with the speed of a race horse, meant nothing but death itself.