A short carry of two or three hundred yards brought them to the
cataract. It was, as Mukoki had said after his long trip of
exploration a few months before, a very small fall, not more than a
dozen feet in height. But over it there was now rushing a thundering
deluge of water. An easy trail led to the stream below it, and no time
was lost in getting under way again.

Although they had traveled fully forty miles since morning, the day
had been an easy and most interesting one for the three adventurers.
On the swift current of the chasm stream they had worked but little,
and the ceaseless change of scenery in this wonderful break between
the mountain ridges held an ever-increasing fascination for them. Late
in the afternoon, the course changed from its northeasterly direction
to due north, and at this point there was an ideal spot for camping.
Over an extent of an acre or more there was a sweeping hollow of fine
white sand, with great quantities of dry wood cluttering the edge of
the depression.

"That's a curious spot!" said Wabi as they drew up their canoe. "Looks
like--"

"A lake," grunted Mukoki. "Long time ago--a lake."

"The curve of the stream right here has swept up so much sand that the
water can't get into it," added Rod, looking the place over.

Wabi had gone a few paces back. Suddenly he stopped, and with a half
shout he gesticulated excitedly to his companions. Something in his
manner took Rod and Mukoki to him on the run.