"That's Macgregor!" cried Harry; "but I'd forgotten it. To-morrow we'll run our rapids in real scientific style."
"Provided there are any more rapids," suggested Tom.
"What did that Sherbrooke postmaster say about the Magog rapids?" inquired Joe.
"Said there weren't any, except one or two which we could easily run," replied Harry.
"Then we've probably got through with the rapids," said Charley. "I'm rather sorry, for it's good fun running them."
Supper was now over, and the canoeists, spreading their rubber blankets on the sawdust, prepared to "turn in." They were very tired, and, lulled by the sound of the rapids, soon dropped asleep.
The recent rains had dampened the sawdust to the depth of about two inches, but below this it was dry and inflammable. A fire had been made with which to cook supper, and the dampness of the sawdust had made the boys so confident that the fire would not spread, that they had not taken the trouble to put it out before going to sleep.
Now it happened that the damp sawdust on which the fire had been kindled gradually became dry, and finally took fire. It burned very slowly on the surface, but the dry sawdust immediately below burned like tinder. About two hours after Harry had closed his eyes he was awakened from a dream that he had upset a burning spirit-lamp over his legs. To his horror he saw that the whole bank of sawdust was on fire. Smoke was everywhere creeping up through the damp top layer, and at a little distance from the canoes the smouldering fire had burst into roaring flames.
Harry instantly called his comrades, and starting up, they rushed to the canoes, threw their blankets and stores into them, and prepared to launch them. They had not a moment to spare. The flames were close to them, and were spreading every moment, and as they shoved the canoes toward the water their feet repeatedly sank down through the ashes below the surface, the flames springing up as they drew them back. It did not take many minutes to get the canoes into the water and to embark, but as the canoeists pushed out into the river, the part of the bank where they had been sleeping burst into flames.
A light breeze had sprung up, which was just enough to fan the fire and to carry it into an immense pile of dry drift-wood that lay on the shore below the sawdust bank. The boys waited in the quiet eddy near the bank and watched the progress of the fire. It licked up the drift-wood in a very few moments, and then, roaring with exultation over the work it had done, it swept into the forest. In half an hour's time a forest fire was burning which threatened to make a terrible destruction of timber, and the heat had grown so intense that the canoeists were compelled to drop down the stream to avoid it.