little thought to their rifles. That morning they had set out with the
intention of reaching the second waterfall before dusk, and it was
with disappointment rather than gladness that they saw the swift
current of the chasm torrent change into the slower, steadier sweep of
a stream that had now widened into a fair-sized river. According
to the map the second fall was about fifty-five miles from the mad
hunter's camp. Darkness found them still fifteen miles from where it
should be.

Excitement kept Rod awake most of that night. Try as he would, he
could not keep visions of the lost treasure out of his mind. The next
day they would be far on their way to the third and last waterfall.
And then--the gold! That they might not find it, that the passing of
half a century or more might have obliterated all traces left by its
ancient discoverers, never for a moment disturbed his belief.

He was the first awake the following morning, the first to take his
place in the canoe. Every minute now his ears were keenly attuned for
that distant sound of falling water. But hours passed without a
sign of it. Noon came. They had traveled six hours and had covered
twenty-five miles instead of fifteen! Where was the waterfall?

There was a little more of anxiety in Wabigoon's eyes when they
resumed their journey after dinner. Again and again Rod looked at his
map, figuring out the distances as drawn by John Ball, the murdered
Englishman. Surely the second waterfall could not be far away now! And
still hour after hour passed, and mile after mile slipped behind them,
until the three knew that they had gone fully thirty miles beyond
where the cataract should have been, if the map was right. Twilight
was falling when they stopped for supper. For the last hour Mukoki