"I see something prettier," said Dave.
A bird, singing cheerily, had just darted across, a flaming spot of orange against the rich green hemlocks beyond.
"An oriole," announced the "poet." "A beautiful little bird, and a noisy one, too. Listen to his chatter."
"If you fellows don't want to sleep out in the open to-night, you'd better be coming along," said Havens, and Dave, with a sigh, again struggled to his feet.
"Listen!" Dick stopped and held up his hand. "What's that noise?" he asked.
"The rapids," replied Havens. "I thought we must be pretty close to them."
"When we get there, let's stop and have some grub," said Dick. "Wow! My back's 'most broken. Always did hate to lug things."
"I'll sleep all day to-morrow," declared Dave.
"If you do, I'll set a bear on you," laughed Dick.
The noise of rushing water grew louder, and finally, after scrambling over a pile of rocks and forcing their way through a tangled thicket, they reached the bank.