"Mebbe you'd like to make a dive for it," suggested the man.
"No, I've had enough of that. How shall I thank you for what you have done?"
"By not saying anything about it. By a piece of good luck I happened to be on the spot in time to give you a lift."
The boys now looked more closely at the Good Samaritan. He was attired in the dress common among the trappers and hunters of the Northwest in those days, and was a magnificent specimen of physical manhood, being fully six feet in height, with a broad, massive frame and an immense grizzled beard, which flowed over his chest and covered his face almost to the eyes. He had laid down his long, formidable rifle when he hurried to the rescue of the boy, and he now stooped and picked up the weapon. Moving back a few paces, so as to get beyond the noise made by the rushing waters, he said, in his gruff but not unpleasant voice:
"Tell me how this thing happened."
George briefly gave the particulars of the mishap, to which the man silently listened.
"You ain't the only younker or man either who has lost all by a little slip. The next time you want to make a big jump be sure of your footing. What are you two chaps doing in this part of the world?"
"We have been across the continent, almost to the Pacific, and are now on the way to our home in Ohio."
"You ain't traveling alone, are you?"
"No; we have a companion, who is off somewhere in the mountains, but will soon join us in camp."