“And I want to remind you fellows of one more thing,” said Charley. “When the current is sweeping you toward a concave shore—that is, where the river makes a bend—don’t try to keep your canoe clear of the shore by hard paddling. Just backwater on the side of the canoe that is toward the middle of the river.”
“That’s Macgregor again!” 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 in a wild and beautiful spot. The great “Rock Forest,” as it is called, through which the Magog runs, is of vast extent, and is inhabited by bears and smaller wild animals. The boys from their camping-ground could see nothing but the river, the dense woods on either bank, and the bright moonlit sky above them. The rapid was roaring as if it was angry at having failed to wreck the canoes, and the only other sound was the crackling of branches in the forest, and the occasional sighing of the gentle breeze. The boys were 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 depth it was dry and inflammable. A small 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 burnt very slowly on the surface, but the dry sawdust immediately below burnt 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.