“That queers our plan of reaching Jake Trummer’s place to-night,” Teddy said grimly. “No one but a fool would launch a boat in that.” He watched a huge tree limb go floating by. “Are the rapids worse than this, Pop? Do you think this storm will make them much more dangerous? Will—”
“Take it easy, son,” Pop chuckled. “I’m no bureau of information. You’ve seen those rapids, haven’t you, Teddy?”
“Yes; but it was a long time ago. I forget just how swift they are.”
“Well, they’re bad enough, but not quite this bad. It is possible to shoot ’em in a heavy canoe like we got. Now what else was it you asked?”
“Do you think this rain will make ’em worse?”
“It might. There’s no tellin’. But we won’t take a chance on ’em to-night, at any rate. We’ve got to wait till morning. Now let’s have a look at the stuff that was placed under the boat.”
The rain had ceased by this time, and now the sun came forth in all its glory for a farewell flash before night settled down. The boys turned the canoe over carefully and discovered that the rifles and blankets were as dry as before the storm. This lightened their spirits somewhat, for it meant that they could at least spend a fairly comfortable night.
They fretted a good deal at the delay, but there was no help for it, and they set about making camp. It took them some time to get a fire going, for they had hard work to find dry wood, but finally picked up enough to start a small blaze, sufficient to warm them.
“Guess we won’t be at the grazing ground much before dad, at this rate,” Roy declared, munching on some bacon and bread. “Golly! I hope those Durhams stick around a while longer.”
“Say! I wonder if that storm could have started another slide?” Bug Eye questioned suddenly.