“Oh, yes, and it would only be civil,” said the Cornishman. “Just room for one first-class passenger. All right; lend a hand here. I can touch bottom. ’Bout seven foot.”
Poles were thrust down, and the raft was urged across the flowing water till the eddy on the far side was reached, and then, with the fierce roar coming out of a narrow gap in the rocks a few hundred yards lower, the raft was easily thrust into a little cove below the man on the shelf.
“Going down the rapids?” he shouted.
“We are, my lad,” cried their captain. “Why?”
“Will you give a poor fellow a lift down? I can’t get any farther for the rocks.”
“Far as the gold country?”
“Oh, no: I don’t ask that. Only to where I can tramp again.”
“Well, we’ve just room for a little un,” said the Cornishman. “Much luggage?”
“Only this pack,” was the reply.
“Jump in, then,” said the leader, with a grim smile. “P’r’aps, though, you’d better come lower.”